A Notable Rescue at Sea

Saved by the Argus

One of the earliest balloon flights in England took place on Saturday, 23 July 1785, at 4.25 p.m. in Quantrell’s Gardens, Norwich – located in the city adjacent to present-day Queen’s Road (part of the A147) in the area now occupied by a large Sainsbury supermarket. The chief organiser and sponsor of the event was Major John Money (1724-1817), a local man who lived at Crown Point, Trowse, and was an officer in the 9th (East Norfolk) Regiment of Foot. He had something of a penchant for acts of daring and this particular episode was no exception. The means of lifting the balloon and keeping it airborne was not hot air (as pioneered by the Montgolfier brothers, in France, during 1782 and 1783), but hydrogen gas – which was produced in a sealed container by mixing sulphuric and iron filings and then directed by lead piping into the balloon, the fabric of which was rubberised silk.

This widely advertised event did not start well. John Money was to have made the ascent with two other gentleman named Lockwood and Blake, with the sale of the admission tickets of 2s 6d aimed at producing funds for the Norfolk and Norwich Hospital. But it was ascertained at around 4 p.m. that there were not enough iron filings to produce the amount of hydrogen gas required to carry three people. So, it was decided that Money would go it alone. And not only this: no ballast would be able to be carried to assist with eventual descent. The delayed ascent ended up with the balloon becoming tangled with a tree – from which Money managed to disengage, followed by him throwing out his overcoat, and away he went up into the warm summer air. 

Initially, he was carried away westwards by the wind – but, as he gained height, the currents of air changed course and he eventually found himself going in the opposite direction. Which took him out over the North Sea. And this is where accounts of what happened differ widely. Some sources say that he finished up over the sandbanks off the north-east coast of Norfolk, in the vicinity of the Leman and Ower shoals, while others have him going as far in the opposite direction as Southwold. Yet others cite the waters off Great Yarmouth and Lowestoft as his eventual landing in the sea. And, on the evidence of his eventual rescue from the waves, it was Southwold which was the one.

His surrender to the North Sea was deliberate, of course, and he gave an account of what happened to the Norfolk Chronicle – which was published the following Saturday (30 July). He had sought to control the amount of gas in the balloon by means of a string attached to a valve at its bottom, but this proved difficult to operate. He then realised that he was going to be carried out to sea and that it would be best to get down into the water during the hours of daylight, which would give him the best chance of being rescued. He made contact with the water at around 6 p.m., it taking some time to for the balloon and gondola to stabilise because of the sea’s swell. But, even in such dire circumstances, Money kept a clear head and removed his watch from his under-coat’s pocket before fastening it to the buttonhole so that he could monitor the passing of time. 

One of his problems was the water in the gondola, which had reached his knees by 8 p.m. and his waist by 10, and there was also the problem of it being in the balloon itself as it floated along on the surface. Though he did manage to partly reduce the amount there by pulling on the ropes which secured it to the gondola. And so he remained for a further five hours or more, with his desperation increased by seeing ships which either didn’t see him or chose to ignore his plight. Rescue came at last, somewhere off Southwold, at a time approaching 11.30 p.m. – which would tie in perfectly with him going into the sea somewhere off Lowestoft and then being taken southwards by the flood-tide for a distance of about twelve miles or so at an average current speed of two to two-and-a-half knots.

The vessel which came to his rescue was the Lowestoft revenue cutter Argus – named after the legendary hundred-eyed giant who protected Hera, queen of the Greek deities, with his eternal vigilance. A suitable name for a vessel engaged in monitoring smuggling activity along this particular part of the Suffolk coast. Money, balloon and gondola were taken on board and arrived in Lowestoft at about 8 a.m. on Sunday morning. Which suggests that the vessel did not make an immediate return, but possibly continued with its regular duties before heading home. John Money left Lowestoft in a chaise (no information given at what time) and arrived home at Crown Point at 2 p.m. It is not recorded anywhere how the balloon and gondola were conveyed – the former not too badly damaged and the latter rather more so.

This whole episode was widely publicised in the local area, of course, and one of the most interesting things connected with it was a mock epic poem (involving the presence of the Roman deities) composed by George Townshend (1724-1807), 4th Viscount, grandson of “Turnip” Townshend and a distinguished retired professional soldier. He was also a gifted amateur caricaturist, who had a way with words as well as pen, ink and colour. Money himself had this particular work put into print – which must have been at some point during or after 1787, the year in which Townshend was further ennobled to 1st Marquess. It is available, in facsimile form, on the Internet via Gale Ecco Print Editions. 

The title-page reads thus (spaced lines indicated by use of forward slash): A / POETICAL EPISTLE / ON MAJORMONEY’S / ASCENT IN A BALLOON / FROM THE / CITY OF NORWICH / AND HIS / DESCENT INTO THE SEA / SEVEN LEAGUES OFF LOWESTOFT / BY THE / MARQUIS TOWNSHEND. It is preceded by this acknowledgement: “To the Marquis Townshend: My Lord, Having seen several incorrect copies of those very pleasant lines your Lordship did me the honor to write, on the experiments I made with Balloons, and having been importuned by your Friends for copies, I have ventured to order, from the original, a few to be printed.  I have the honor to be, with respect, Your Lordship’s Most Faithful Servant, J. Money.”

The nineteen pages which follow begin with an introductory “run-in”, covering the origin of ballooning in France, the earliest English flights in London and the calling of a general election in 1784, before turning to the matter of John Money’s flight. Which then comes to the attention of the god Jupiter, who has noted human attempts to rise above their station and invade his domain – the skies – and sends his messenger, Mercury, to ascertain who has made  a balloon ascent from Norwich. Mercury returns with the name Money and Jupiter claims to know the man, at the same time grasping a thunderbolt with which to dispatch him for his insolence. Juno and Venus intercede on Money’s behalf. Money then (somehow) perceives the gods discussing him and – as a soldier – calls on Mars, who speaks on his behalf and testifies to his military prowess. Pallas Athena, however, goddess of wisdom (a cross-over, here, to the Greek deities) – although she wishes to see him spared – said that she could not justify the folly of aerial adventure. At which point, Neptune suggests that Jupiter move the balloon out over the sea and land Money in its waters.

This duly occurs and the narrative then switches to the aeronaut’s struggle with the waves as the light fails and darkness falls. Two ships pass close to him during that time, but offer no help, and – as a last resort – he prays to Jupiter, promising that he will no more take to the skies and make trespass on the heavenly regions, but turn his attentions to charitable works in his local area. His prayer is heard and Neptune authorised to intervene, who then sends twenty Tritons to seek out “faithful Haggass” (William Haggis, commander of the Argus), who – once located – carries out the rescue of Money and his balloon. Both are landed at Lowestoft and Money finds a rapturous welcome awaiting him at Poringland (just down the road from Trowse and Crown Point) when he finally approaches home. 

Much of the information used here derives from a three-part account of this notable incident, to be found in William Savage’s excellent Internet site titled Pen and Pension. This is a wide-ranging collection of articles relating to Norfolk during the Georgian Period and is well worth looking at.

CREDIT: David Butcher