Site of the first human ascent from British soil

21 November 1783 is a date that, really, we should all have fixed in our minds. Make a point of memorising it now, if you haven’t already. On that day, our species conquered gravity and gained the ability to fly among the birds. Human eyes, for the first time in their 200,000 year history, gazed down at the earth receding below as the first manned balloon flight rose 910 metres above Paris. The Montgolfiers’ craft, piloted by the physician Pilâtre de Rozier the Marquis d’Arlandes (not the Montgolfiers themselves, as is often thought) travelled nine kilometres during its historic 25 minute flight.

In parallel, a rival technology to the Montgolfiers’ hot-air ballon was under development. The lifting properties of hydrogen were first glimpsed by Henry Cavendish, who isolated the gas in 1766. The technology moved from test tube to test flight very quickly, with the first manned hydrogen balloon ascents on December 1, 1783, reaching an incredible 3000 metres on the second flight. The pilot, Jacques Charles, poetically related how he’d become the first human to watch the sun set twice in one day.

Lunardi’s balloon, on show at the Pantheon

The first ascent from British soil came less than a year later. The Italian Vincenzo Lunardi journeyed in a hydrogen balloon from the Artillery Ground in Moorgate. Some 200,000 people turned out to watch the spectacle, and many more must have seen the craft floating over north London towards Hertfordshire. A monument marks the spot where Lunardi landed, 24 miles away in Standon Green End. The balloon later drew amazed crowds to the Pantheon building on Oxford Street (now the Marks and Spencer to the eastern end of the street).

The field where Lunardi’s journey began is still there today, and used as a training ground for the Honourable Artillery Company. As a working barracks, it’s difficult to gain entrance (your best bet is to get invited along to a corporate event, when the lawns are hired out during summer). However, I was recently able to gain this balloonist’s-eye view (top of page) from the roof of the nearby Cromwell Tower on the Barbican Estate. Those with a fear of heights can catch a glimpse into the field from various points around the perimeter. It seems a shame that the most important benchmark in British aviation remains so little known and the site, once thronging with a large portion of London’s population, is now cut off from the general public.

For more on the early years of ballooning, and particularly its dismissal by the scientific elite as a fad of no practical utility, I recommend Richard Holmes’ peerless account of Enlightenment science, The Age of Wonder.

Previous instalments of the Scientific Tourist in London.