(_To the Editor of the Mirror_.)
_June_ 10, 1829.
Sir,--With your permission, I will attempt to describe the magnificent
scene I witnessed on my ascent with Mr. G. Green, in his balloon, on
Wednesday, June 10th, 1829; but I really want the power of language to
depict its grandeur; for no poetic taste, or pencil of man, can unfold
the splendid scene we enjoyed while traversing the ethereal regions.
Having implicit confidence in the skill of Mr. Green I ascended with him
from the Jamaica, Tea-gardens, Rotherhithe, amidst the acclamations of the
multitude, whose forms and voices soon passed away; the busy hum of men
(with us) ceased in a few seconds, and a solemn stillness reigned over the
metropolis. The serenity of the evening threw a degree of solemnity over
the scene, which had the effect of enchantment. We never lost sight of the
earth, for our voyage was perfectly cloudless. The fields and buildings
were all in miniature proportions, though most exquisitely depicted; and
as Greenwich Hospital, the Tower of London, St. Paul's, &c. apparently
receded from our view, the country succeeded, resembling one continued
garden. The fields of wheat, &c. were beautifully defined, and the
clearness of the atmosphere threw a sort of varnish (if I may use the term)
over the whole face of nature. We had the Thames in view the whole of the
time, which appeared like a rivulet of silver; but below Kingston Bridge,
about half an hour after our ascent, the setting sun _gilded_ its surface
with magnificent effect. The boats appeared like little pieces of cork.
The Penitentiary, at Millbank, had the resemblance of a twelfth cake cut
into quarters; St. Paul's and the Tower of London could be distinctly seen,
the light falling happily upon their proportions. Old and New London
Bridges, were like two feeble efforts of the works of man; and here we saw
the triumph of nature over art, and the littleness of the great works of
man. At one time, on nearing Battersea Bridge, we observed a small, black
streak ascending from the surface of the Thames, which we concluded to be
the smoke from a Richmond steam packet. At that time the course of the
balloon was south-east, although the smoke above alluded to was driven
towards the west. The air being so serene we felt no motion in the car,
and we could only know we were quietly moving, from seeing the grappling
irons (which hung from the car) pass over the earth rapidly from field
to field; whilst the scene seemed to recede from our view like a moving
panorama. At our greatest altitude a solemn stillness prevailed, and I
cannot describe its awful grandeur and my excitement. We then let loose a
pigeon, and having a favourable country below, we prepared to descend, and
Mr. Green hailed some men with the cry of "we are coming down." I saw them
run (though very small,) and we fell in a field of wheat, near Kingston,
with scarcely any rebound; in fact a child might have alighted with safety.
Thus, Mr. Editor, ended this short and rapid, but splendid voyage. On our
alighting, Mr. Green wrote on a piece of paper our safe arrival, which he
tied to the neck of a pigeon, and sent him off.
Our greatest altitude did not exceed one mile and a quarter, in
consequence, as Mr. Green informed me, of the density of the atmosphere,
which would, at a greater elevation, have dimmed the splendour of the
scene beneath us.