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Flights of Fancy James Sadler was the son of a pastry cook and confectioner, and had inherited his father’s business on High Street in Oxford; but his taste was for science and engineering -- not confections. The first of English astronauts, Sadler became a skillful and daring pilot, and used his inventive mind to develop an ingenious damper mechanism to control the flow of hot air into the balloon. The following is an account of his first flight in a “Montgolfiére” of his own design. Oxford
Journal, October 4, 1784 Sadler’s next ascent occurred on November 12, 1784 at the Physic Garden in Oxford. This time he went up in a hydrogen balloon in the presence of a very large crowd and was immediately and rapidly swept over Otmoor and Thame. Seventeen minutes after take-off, he experienced a very rough landing on the estate of Sir William Lee at Hartwell, near Aylesbury. After dragging for some distance, the balloon blew into a tree and was completely destroyed. Luckily, Sadler escaped injury. His next attempt was not until May 5, 1785, and fared only slightly better.
Oxford, 1785 Mr. Sadler and his companion descended at the spot near where the Thames and Medway join; but owing to the aukwardness of the country people who assisted to secure the balloon, it got from them, and ascended into the atmosphere with great velocity; it went in an E.S.E. direction, and was seen by a gentleman with a glass to descend about three leagues beyond Nore. Sadler made 4 more ascents in 1785, with some interesting but unpleasant results. On his second ascent from Manchester in May, he rose to 13,000 ft, traveled 50 miles, and landed or, rather, half-landed at Pontefract. He was badly injured when the balloon dragged him for 2 miles and finally toppled him out onto the ground before escaping into the air.
In September, his first flight from Worcester went off without a hitch and landed him safely at Stretton Grandison in Herefordshire. His next flight, in October, was a nightmare. Caught up in a strong northerly wind, Sadler attempted to land under very difficult conditions at Lichfield. The balloon dragged him across country and battered him about for upwards of 5 miles. Sadler held on for dear life until he finally fell out while the balloon was close to ground --whereupon it immediately shot upwards and was never seen again. Ballooning had literally become a drag for Sadler and, luckily for England, after this terrifying experience, plus the loss of his balloon, he determined that it was safer to remain earthbound -- for the next 24 years, anyway. During that time Sadler used his genius to improve the steam engine. He experimented with the application of steam-power to road vehicles, and even patented a rotary engine. We shall rejoin Sadler in the air at a later date, but now it is time to introduce a team of aeronauts who made a great splash in the ballooning world, and just barely avoiding a dunking. **** Channeling 101
While Sadler was having a rough go of it with “by guess and by God” ballooning, Monsieur Jean-Pierre Blanchard had been preparing for a momentous event that would awaken the world. One correspondent wrote: “The frontiers are broken down by the Great Discovery!” Another stated, quite prophetically, “The seas no longer are barriers.” It was touted as “The Dawn of the Greatest Age in Human History.“ And what was this great event? The crossing of the English Channel by balloon. And it was given the designation of “The Eighth Wonder of the World.” With Blanchard on the occasion was Dr. John Jeffries, an American from Boston. Jeffries had helped finance the expedition to the tune of £700, and paid Blanchard an extra £100 for the privilege of accompanying him. The date set for the flight was January 7, 1785, and at shortly before 1 p.m. on that winter day the balloon was poised for ascent from the chalk cliffs at Dover. Blanchard was extremely nervous from the start and, at the last moment, had even tried to persuade Jeffries from accompanying him. It was only upon Jeffries promise to jump overboard into the channel if all else failed to keep the balloon aloft that Blanchard agreed to take him. Jean-Pierre Blanchard Dr. John Jeffries
The balloon rose
gracefully at 1 p.m., but well out over the channel they were forced to spill
out the 30 lbs. of ballast they had with them in order avoid descending into the
sea. By 2:30 p.m. they were fast approaching the French coast, but they had lost
about one quarter of their gas and were descending rapidly. Dr. Jeffries records
in his book: Luckily, at this instant we found the mercury beginning to fall in the barometer and we soon ascended much higher than ever before, and made a most beautiful entre into France exactly at three o’clock. We entered rising, and to such a height that the arch we described brought us down just twelve miles into the country, when we descended most tranquilly into the midst of the forest De Felmores, almost as naked as the trees, not an inch of rope or cord left, no anchor or anything to help us, nor a being within several miles. My good little captain begged for all my exertion to stop at the first tree I could reach. I succeeded beyond my comprehension, and you would have laughed to see us, each without a coat of any sort, Mr. Blanchard assisting at the valve, and I holding at the top of a lofty tree, and the balloon playing to and fro over us, holding almost too severe a contest for my arms. It took exactly twenty-eight minutes to let out air (i.e. inflammable air) enough to relieve the balloon without injury. We soon heard the wood surrounded by footmen, horsemen &c and received every possible assistance from them. I was soon well mounted and had a fine gallop of seven miles.”
The triumphant aeronauts were conducted to Calais, which they reached past midnight, and the gates of the city were officially opened to them. Upon hearing of this great feat, Louis XVI awarded Blanchard 12,000 francs, plus an annual pension of 1,200 francs. A monument was erected near Calais in honor of their historic achievement. Although Blanchard had lost his shirt -- and pants -- he gained a fortune. A sidelight of this historic channel crossing is that it also resulted in the first air mail delivery, which consisted of a packet of letters tied up in a bladder. The only item that has survived from this packet is a letter from William Franklin, addressed to his son Temple, which is now in the possession of the American Philosophical Society. Blanchard returned to London and, with part of his prize money, opened “The Grand Aerostatic Academy”, the first ballooning school, located in Stockwell Road, Vauxhall. Dr. Jeffries returned to Boston where he practiced medicine for the next 30 years -- and probably wore only light clothing. The car of their balloon is still preserved in the Calais museum, and a balloon-topped marble monument was erected at their landing spot in Guisnes. **** In our next: The flying clerk, the flying beauty, and the flying horse. |