Part 11

We descended at the village of Cryston; Robert Kaye, Esq., of Mill Brae, was present, rendering material assistance, and invited us to take refreshment at his house.

In a third trip from Glasgow, in which Mr. Maxwell again accompanied me, Duncan McIntyre was initiated into the enjoyments of ballooning; a few extracts of his own version of the scene will sufficiently bring it within view.

“After having witnessed the ascents made by Mr. H. Coxwell on the 9th and 13th of October, I had no hesitation in making arrangements for a trip with him on the 18th instant.

“Almost immediately on leaving, the aëronaut commenced a most entertaining lecture on aërostation, and described graphically, the beautiful scene which gradually opened out to our view.

“The tortuous winding of the Clutha, appeared like a small rivulet, dotted here and there with Liliputian steamers. Dumbarton with its ship-building yards and ancient Castle-Greenock, in the distance, with its forest of shipping, were all seen to great advantage, although on the same dwarfish scale. On ascending still higher, the country, to my inexperienced eye, assumed a somewhat concave appearance, reminding me of the plains of South America, and for miles there was not apparently an eminence of a foot high; but this deceitful appearance was fully explained by our enterprising captain, who pointed out many places and informed us of their height.

“Near to Garscube bridge, Mr. Maxwell left the car, as we wished to go much higher than we had been, and this time the captain took a variety of observations with his instruments, by which he told me of the degrees of cold, and our height in feet, a few of which I put down in my pocket book; for instance, just before we entered a cloud, though I had not observed it overhead, I was requested to button up my coat, as the thermometer had fallen fourteen degrees, and we were three-quarters of a mile high, and in another minute we should enter a cloud, and there it would be ten degrees colder still. I remember he said we were then more than a mile high.

“Our descent was made in a masterly style about half a mile west of Milngaire. It is worthy of remark that this is the same field in which Mr. Sadler, twenty-nine years ago, made his descent, and still more remarkable, it was the same man who caught the rope of Mr. Sadler’s balloon, who performed a similar service for us.”

After the three ascents already recorded, I made one more in conclusion, and it is no vain exaggeration to assert, that my first season in London, besides my numerous ascents previously as an amateur, did actually comprise a greater number of trips than any three balloonists had made, even in the preceding exhibition year.

1853.

During the summer months I maintained the interest in aërostatics by numerous voyages, and although they did not exceed twenty-two in number, still they furnished fresh experiences, and enabled me to take up more than fifty passengers.

One of the most remarkable was an ascent from the New Globe Pleasure Grounds, Mile End Road. The date fixed for the fête was October 16th, but it was a wet and windy morning, which caused postponement notices to be got out, but no sooner were they delivered into the hands of the bill-sticker and his assistants, than a gleam of sunshine shot forth, and the drift of the clouds betokened a favourable break, while a low, but steady, barometer, together with a slight shift in the wind, induced all parties interested to suspend movements until a consultation had been held, as to what was to be the order of the day. The workmen were at their posts ready to proceed, the foreman of the gas-works was awaiting the word to turn on. My own assistant stood by the balloon, anxious to unfold at a moment’s notice.

In the Board Room were myself, the gas-engineer, and the proprietor of the gardens in earnest discussion, as to whether or not it was too late to fill the balloon. Extra pressure was promised, and a little pressure of another sort was put on me, so that the decision was to proceed.

Biscuits and a hasty glass of sherry were served, when out we all sallied into the grounds, which were now steaming from the rarefaction caused by the sun, which had burst forth with an unmistakable intention of shining uninterruptedly until sunset.

I having raised my hand to go on, the “Sylph” was brought forth, the tube was connected with all available speed, and in less than an hour we presented a bold aspect; it quickly buzzed abroad that the balloon was filling, and that, despite rain and wind, the ascent would be made. The bills, of course, were not posted.

When six o’clock struck, and several watches were examined, numerous were the shakes of the heads as to the state of the balloon; it was not more than half full, and as it rolled and flopped about in the high wind, everyone saw that it was not in a fit state to ascend, and less still, to offer a compact resistance to the freshening gusts. Another half hour’s flow turned the tide in its favour, and produced the required ascending power, but there was nothing to spare, and when I let go the last connecting cord, a violent puff of wind caught the balloon sideways, driving it rather down than up, and although two bags of sand were discharged, it still dashed along at a frightful pace, when every beholder saw that a stack of chimnies and the car must inevitably clash; and so they did--but I had thrown myself into position just previous to the moment of contact, and, although the bricks and mortar were hurled downwards, the “Sylph” shot clear away and mounted gaily to an immense elevation, so that by the time I was over the Houses of Parliament, the wind being east, I found my barometer had fallen five inches, and that temperature had decreased just nineteen degrees, by which I knew that I should continue an upward movement for at least another six thousand feet, owing to the space left for expansion, unless I confined the balloon to the same level by the use of the valve. As I had no object in going very high, I attempted with the cord a slight check, but neither the customary pull nor an extra tug would open the valve. It then struck me that in the hurry of making a beginning my assistant had allowed a fold to form itself in the silk, which prevented the valve-shutters from opening, on looking up through the neck internally, I observed that this was the case, so I determined to allow the balloon to rise and come down without any interference on my part, but in so doing I had to go nearly as far as Basingstoke, before a downward inclination took place.

Soon after the first dip, I noticed a splendid meteor, which was below the level of the car, and apparently about six hundred feet distant--it was blue and yellow, moving rapidly in a north-easterly direction and became extinguished without noise or sparks.

It is just possible that the apparent closeness of this meteor was illusory, and that the real distance was very many miles; its size was half that of the moon, and I could not but feel that if such another visitor were to cross my path, the end of the “Sylph” and its master would be at hand.

The range of temperature was 35°, it being 54° at starting, and 19° at the greatest elevation, viz, two and a half miles.

The car touched the earth soon after 8 o’clock, but it was dark, and no signs of habitation were at hand; I shouted lustily to see if any labourers were within hail, but no one appeared to hear me, or see the balloon. Being quite out of my latitude and longitude, I was naturally curious to ascertain my whereabouts.

I resolved upon a last effort, and having charged my lungs fully I cried out “Air balloon,” some half-dozen times, but getting no encouragement by a response I made up my mind to settle down in the car, and do the best I could to procure rest.

But there were matters requiring immediate attention and of greater importance than sleep, the first was the reduction of the “Sylph” in point of bulk; now it is not exactly an easy matter to get all the gas out of a balloon single-handed; when the valve drops to the ground the gas will not escape unless it is pressed out by men holding down the network, and, as I had no such assistance, I got thus far and no farther; the wind, however, had abated, so that my silken companion presented very much the appearance of a whale.

I drew some part of the loose folds over the car, and then remembered the kind attention of Mr. Gardner, the lessee of the Gardens, who always made up for me something to comfort the inner man before I ascended. This time there was a beef sandwich with a liberal supply of mustard and pepper, but it was not too hot, nor was the pocket pistol, containing brown brandy and water, at all dangerous, for it was rather needed, the cold weather aloft having chilled one somewhat; whilst good Mr. Gardner’s basket, and its truly acceptable contents, produced a glow of gratitude which prompted me, the moment I had unscrewed the flask, to drink to his long life and happiness. I did so twice, and after having taxed the reserve sandwich I felt myself a fresher and more thoughtful man.

The next question was, whether it would be well to turn in where I was for the night, or strike out by the nearest road for assistance.

There would be no harm, I thought, in taking a short reconnoitre as far as the boundaries of the field I was in possession of; it being dark, I could only by close inspection ascertain how the ground lay.

At the further extremity I came upon a gate and a bye lane; now if I pursued this, wouldn’t it lead to a farm house? And if I placed a stone, or, as I did, a chalk and flint opposite the gate in the centre of the lane, shouldn’t I be able to see it on my return?

The argument was conclusive, I struck out in a sanguine spirit, and after a quarter of an hour’s cautious walking came to a farm with a light in one window; bravo! there was a yard wall surrounding the premises, but the stile was visible, and I mounted step after step, determined to knock or ring them up.

But gracious goodness! what dark object was that springing at my throat with a fierce growl?

A bounding, unchained, Newfoundland dog had never entered my dreams.

I confess to being both surprised and alarmed, and to having beat, or attempted to do so, one of the most expeditious retreats on record. If recollection serves me correctly I fairly bolted, but whether I stopped before the flint stone tripped me up or not I cannot say.

Halting at the outside of the gate, and seizing the big flint in my right hand, I breathed more freely, and was not displeased when I ascertained that I had no followers.

Having satisfied myself that the balloon was more quiet than the hound, discretion preached an out-door discourse as to being the better part of valour, and I assented by making up my mind to experimentalise with sleep. A ballast bag or two were now filled with hedge-row gatherings to be used as pillows.

I stretched myself nearly at full length in the car and went earnestly in for a doze. I believe, too, that the first stage of it was duly entered upon, when voices in the distance were indistinctly heard through the wicker-work.

I sprang up, casting aside the curtains of oiled silk, and listened attentively. Yes, there were men in the next field, they had doubtless seen and followed the balloon; to welcome them would be most expedient.

“Hallo there! here I am and the balloon as well.”

No sooner had I delivered this piece of information than I heard a voice say, “Hush!” Receding footsteps in an irregular stampede followed, and I was left in wonderment as to what it all meant.

I came to the conclusion that a gang of poachers were in the neighbourhood, and that I had disturbed their operations at the very outset.

After shouting again and again, I heard no more of the strange voices or footsteps; I determined upon again sallying forth, but this time in the opposite direction, when I armed myself with the liberating iron, a powerful weapon, and, if used dexterously, far more to be dreaded than a policeman’s truncheon.

Having again deposited another white stone in the lane opposite the gate, I walked for at least a mile, when I came to a village green having a pond at one side and cottages in the distance.

It had struck eleven o’clock when I heard some men approaching, and although they were not exactly steady still I was glad to meet with anyone for information’s sake, and for assistance in the packing up.

“Here my man, be good enough to inform me what place this is, I am a stranger and require assistance.”

“But you surely know where you are?”

“No, the fact is I’ve just popped down here in a balloon, and I require help.”

“Oh, that’s it; well, if you go to the ‘Red Lion’ down the street I daresay you’ll get what you want; the landlord is a retired fighting man, and he’ll put you to rights in no time.”

While I was in the act of laughing, my suspicious adviser moved off in an evident state of doubt and alarm, so I pressed forward down the street, and was glad to hear the measured steps of a policeman.

As he appeared I thus accosted him:--

“Officer, I am glad to have met you, being a stranger and not knowing what _county_ I am in. I have just----.”

The bull’s eye was immediately turned, and my liberating iron scanned, when the policeman backed a step or two and said, “Oh, you don’t know what county you’re in, don’t ye. Well, I should think you know the county gaol pretty well.”

Whether it was the provoking way in which I burst out laughing, or my close resemblance to some criminal character, I cannot say, but the officer drew himself together as if he were about to encounter a robber, and before I could speak with becoming gravity he held up his lantern and assured me that if I did not immediately move off out of the village he should take me to the station house.

“That’s just where I am going either with or without you as an escort,” I said; “but mind what you are about officer, the fact is, I have descended in a balloon not far from here this evening, and I have come for assistance. Which, pray, is the ‘Red Lion’?”

“I thought,” rejoined the policeman, “You didn’t know what county you were in; we had quite enough of you fellows a fortnight ago, and if you hang about here I shall take you into custody.”

“Do so at your peril,” I cried, holding up my iron defiantly.

The officer continued his beat as if he were perplexed as to my business in that part of the country; I observed that he kept his eye upon me, and turned round occasionally as he went up the street.

I failed to obtain an entrance into the “Red Lion,” nor did I see anyone to ask where the station house was, and as the persons met with appeared semi-savages, I became anxious about the balloon, and decided upon going back and having a parting word with the policeman.

That official, however, was not to be seen, he had either gone further on the road, or he was watching me from some unseen place.

On recognizing the stone, and regaining the field, sleep was once more sought, and this time successfully.

I did not awake until voices were faintly heard in the morning.

I then peeped from my cage, and found that farm labourers were going to work.

Feeling assured that they would pass the gate, notice the stone, and then the balloon, I remained quiet, but could clearly discern the men as they came to a dead halt, as if paralyzed with astonishment at the strange appearance in the field.

“What be that Jim?” said the foremost man with one leg raised on the gate.

“Dang’d if I know,” said another, “either the owld’un or sum’mut alive.”

“Let’s over and see lads.”

As the men approached the balloon their cautious movements and general expression betokened fear.

When they first reached the car, I threw aside my covering, anxious to convince them without further doubt, what it was they were gazing upon.

Whether or not I was too energetic, and sprang up like Jack in the box, I cannot say, but the moment their eyes rested upon me they fled in dismay.

I followed after them, urging that “it was only a balloon,” but the affrighted ones jumped through a hedge-gap, and it was not until they had drawn up on the other side, as if ashamed of their fear, that they listened to what I had to say, and on regaining self-possession they went back and examined for themselves; after getting reassured they conducted me to their master, who invited me to breakfast.

While we were finishing our coffee, the farmer continually apologized for the rude behaviour of his men, who were not at all polite.

Master Hector, the dog, kept eying and pawing me as if he would be rough, but for the presence of the farmer.

After breakfast we drove over to Basingstoke, and called at the “Red Lion” on our road to the railway station.

The landlord had heard a knocking the previous night, and had been warned by the policeman of a dangerous-looking fellow being about, with a house-breaker’s implement in his possession ready for use.

I showed him the liberating iron and explained its application, and who I was, &c., when the ex-pugilist was much amused, and informed me why the villagers were so cautious about strangers.

A fortnight previously, I learnt, several of the shops had been robbed by a gang of London thieves, and most of them, as well as the police, were apprehensive of a second visitation.

“Another thing,” said the burly landlord, “You must please not forget that you have come among the Hampshire hogs, and that a grunt or two is all in character.”

On putting me down at the railway station the farmer expressed his regret that he had not heard my call when I descended, and that the persons I sought information from were so unfriendly.

I told him that I had frequently met with almost similar receptions, and that the treatment I had received was owing to the balloon not having been seen in the air.

* * * * *

As the story of my life represents thoughts and acts in childhood, youth, and early experience, I have now to account for a break in the narrative, which must leave off while barely touching the year 1853. As there yet remains five and thirty years of my career to describe it follows that I cannot do so in the present volume, which, to be candid, owes its appearance to a circumstance which requires mentioning.

I had supplied my publishers with an article on Military Ballooning for one of their magazines. This led to the question whether or not the matter would lend itself to expansion for a small book, and as Military and Meteorological Ballooning had revived in Paris, I expressed myself ready to allude to the current topics of the day, and further stated that I had written part of my life. It was then decided to connect the two; but there is this striking contrast between the narrative and the more matured remarks which are added, viz, that the former gives faithfully the buoyant allusions to my early ascents in a gossiping, anecdotal strain, whereas the following chapters are the more matured opinions of later years.

I have noticed hitherto that ballooning best commends itself to general readers when amusement is blended with instruction, and especially if the scientific and practical part is introduced incidentally, so as to avoid abstruse treatment and long calculations.

I must ask the reader’s indulgence to recollect that the writer was born in 1819 (I ought perhaps, with becoming loyalty, to add that considering this is the era of Her Majesty’s Jubilee, I had the _honour_ of being born in that year). An apology is perhaps therefore due for a mixed composition, and for the writer’s boyish views in the earlier part, although it may not be unreasonably presumed that as I have seen some service in trying to advance Aëronautic Science and Military Ballooning, the latter remarks may have more value.

I may add that in a succeeding Volume my autobiography will be continued and concluded.

THE BEGINNING OF MILITARY BALLOONING.

Many articles have appeared on this subject, but they are mostly concise compilations as to the dates of the employment of war balloons, and there is yet wanting a more simple and systematic arrangement of the order and particulars under which the respective balloons figured in early aëronautic history.

I have endeavoured to supply these requirements and to add a few practical and critical observations as to the merits and faults of the various equipments and plans from an aëronautic standpoint; as this kind of treatment may interest military aëronauts, and assist civilians who are studying the matter, and it may also prove more attractive to general readers who like to know what professional men have to say (in friendly rivalry) as to the ideas of naval and military officers, who have devoted attention to ballooning.

On the other hand military men, the young especially, who are apt to conclude that veterans know very little compared with modern tacticians, may find that in this speciality they are somewhat mistaken, and that ballooning is not to be “picked up,” so to speak, without having a regular and legitimate schooling in an art which so very few understand.

“One science only will one genius fit, So vast is art, so narrow human wit.”

The inventive genius of the French may be traced no less than their intrepidity in their early efforts to apply the balloon to purposes of warfare.

In the year 1793, a scientific committee was formed in Paris with this object, when it was suggested that balloons should be used both for attack and defence, and for ascertaining the movement of armies in the field, and to get at the strength of fortified places.

Here was a clear and comprehensive plan for a new departure in military science which the leading nations of Europe have been slow in imitating.

A great deal of doubt and ridicule have been cast upon those (myself included), who, in different countries had the courage of their convictions to urge such a movement upon the attention of those in power.

Austria, whose forces first faced a war balloon at the battle of Fleurus, directed her government not to neglect a bird’s-eye view of the enemy.

Russia took up the idea pretty early.

Italy followed suit.

Germany was slow to move in the air, but has been steady and scientific in carrying out her projects.

Old England, proverbially averse to new fangled notions, resisted all overtures even from an experienced aëronaut for many years, pooh-poohing this kind of feather-brained mode of strategy as at that period imagined.

At last, after experiments had been made by Colonel Beaumont and myself at Aldershot and Woolwich, a balloon corps was formed and permitted to try their hand with calico balloons.

This new force, however, ignoring the first instructors most persistently, ventured to teach the British army without recognized balloonists to aid them; but one day, in an unfortunate hour, a war balloon, while taking a preliminary canter, not, of course, in an official capacity, dashed off on a dark December evening to sea, with an enterprising and much lamented member of Parliament, who knew no fear, but had a poor chance of being rescued from a watery grave.

Then, after this calamity, the British balloon force languished, but not for long, as war clouds were to be seen in the East, where military balloons should have been sent, particularly to Alexandria, but they were not, nor to other places in which Lord Wolseley has himself admitted that they might have proved very useful.

Our own progress at home and the activity displayed on the continent form an instructive contrast, but if we want to ascertain and compare the present with the past we must go back to the year 1793, and follow on chronologically.