The rope-flying French acrobat and Balloonist who gave city its
Bygones regular BRIAN STUBBS takes to the skies to tell the stories of Gillinoe and Windham Sadler, two men who introduced the dangerous and daring concept of flight to the city
In its first year of publication, the Derby Mercury newspaper gathered most of its news from the London press, but in October 1732 it reported on an unusual local event. A travelling French acrobat named Gillinoe “flew down a rope from the top of All Saints’ Church steeple, to St Michael’s Church”.
On his way down, he fired a pistol and blew a trumpet, to the great acclaim of a large crowd that had gathered to watch.
In Hutton’s ‘History of Derby,’ he described how the ‘Flyer’ had worn a wooden breastplate that had a groove in it, to fit the rope, allowing Gillinoe to slide down on his front, with his arms and legs extended.
The descent lasted no more than six or seven seconds but the speed reached was such that plumes of smoke appeared to follow the man down, caused by the friction of the rope on the wood!
For three days, Gillinoe performed his act, sometimes walking back up the rope after a descent and stopping to perform tricks such as lying on his back with his arms folded – sometimes even hanging by his chin!
After each performance, he went round the crowd with a box for a collection and most were pleased to contribute, having been well entertained.
For two years after Gillinoe’s visit, the younger population in Derby began to copy what they had seen him do, and ‘rope flying’ became a common pastime for many of them, using trees, houses and any available pole from which they could run a rope.
In a time before the notion of health and safety or animal welfare, even unsuspecting cats and dogs were flown down ropes.
But this all came to an abrupt end when, in 1734, another itinerant rope artist visited Derby.
His name was never discovered, but he certainly left his mark on the
town. This performer, much older than Gillinoe, was noted for being shabbily dressed when he first appeared in the town and he proposed a more daring act than his predecessor to ensure a large crowd.
Attaching a rope to the steeple of All Saints, he ran it all the way down to the bottom of St Mary’s Gate, a distance twice that of Gillinoe’s.
His first descent involved a wheelbarrow, coming down behind him, in which was crouched a young boy, (whether the boy had volunteered or had to pay for this privilege is not known).
After landing with the wheelbarrow and boy intact, the next dramatic part of his entertainment began.
A donkey had, several days earlier, somehow been winched up to the All Saints steeple and could be heard braying by people passing below. Now, this unfortunate animal was fitted with a breast plate and, with some weight attached to each foot for balance, was sent on its way down the rope.
The roars of surprise, soon gave way to cries of horror as, about 20 feet from the end of the run, the sheer weight of the poor donkey, caused the rope to break.
Many of those waiting below suffered broken arms and legs and many more serious injuries as the unfortunate animal dropped the final few feet into the crowd and rolled over them, onto the pavement.
Amazingly, no one was killed and remarkably, the donkey survived unhurt and was led away to receive a well-earned drink and some food.
No collection was made and the last Derby ‘rope flyer,’ made a quick getaway out of town, to avoid an angry mob.
The young people of Derby, decided that this particular pastime was too dangerous and, in the future sought other activities.
Fifty years later, the possibility of flight gripped the public imagination, with the development of ballooning.
In Derby, the first attempted ascent occurred in September 1813, when William Strutt, with the support of the Derby Philosophical Society, engaged a Mr Wilkes to pilot a balloon from an area called the Siddals, which at that time was used as the Derby Racecourse, situated where the present Derby Railway Station is located.
The entrance fee for people wanting to see the ascent were to be donated to the Derby General Infirmary Hospital fund.
Advertisements for the event appeared in newspapers as far afield as Leicester, Birmingham, Nottingham and Sheffield. On the day of the proposed flight, several thousand spectators waited patiently as coal gas was pumped into the balloon to inflate it.
Unfortunately, large tears began to appear in the linen fabric, which allowed much of the gas to escape and the flight had to be abandoned.
After realising what was happening, several people in the crowd rushed towards the balloon and began tearing pieces of the fabric away. Dragoons had to be called in to guard it, as it was transported back to town.
Unfortunately, the mob followed it and managed to hurl stones at the guards as they crossed the canal bridge. A contingent of Scots Greys, on horseback, were called in and charged the crowd, slashing them with the sides of their swords, until the crowd was finally dispersed!
A further attempt at organising a flight took place shortly after, when the authorities contacted James Sadler, who at that time was Britain’s most famous ‘aeronaut,’ but his fee of 500 guineas caused negotiations to slow down to such an extent that he eventually withdrew his services and instead was hired by Nottingham Town Council, and in November 1813, the first balloon flight from that town, was made.
If you walk along George Street, just off Friargate, it brings you to what remains of Cavendish Street. Directly ahead is a large development of flats, the site of which used to be part of the Derby Gas and Coke Company gas works, built in 1820.
Back in October 1823, just to the
rear of the gas works, was a piece of land, known locally as The Orchard and it was from here that the first manned balloon flight from Derby, took place.
Windham Sadler was the son of James Sadler and was engaged to pilot his own balloon from Derby.
After his arrival in the town, the balloon was put on show in a specially constructed building in the Old George Yard, Cornmarket ,and could be seen, in the days leading up to the launch.
The Derby Mercury described the car as being: “A deep canoe shape, made of basket work, covered in fabric and neatly painted in clouds,
with the signs of the zodiac and stars interspersed.”
The balloon itself consisted of 534 square yards of strong linen, in alternate patterns of crimson and white. It was 42 feet in height and 34 feet in diameter and had a capacity of 27,500 cubic feet of gas.
The launch site was well chosen as there was plenty of room to accommodate the expected large crowd and there were no tall
buildings in the vicinity, which could have hindered the balloon, during takeoff. On the morning of launch day, October 28,
1823, Derby awoke to a cloudy sky, and doubts about whether the flight could go ahead began to circulate. But at 7am, a signal gun was fired from the top of All Saints’ Church, and a flag displayed, to inform the public the ascent would take place.
At 9am, a second signal was fired to announce that the inflation process was about to begin.
A crowd started to gather at the launch site, as a six- inch diameter pipe was run from the gasworks to the balloon. By midday, 22,000 cubic feet of coal gas had been let into it.
The Mercury reported that: “The silken ball was distended so as to exhibit its surpassing beauty”.
Finally, the third signal gun alerted the crowd that the car was about to be attached beneath the balloon. When all was secured, Windham Sadler introduced to the crowd, his friend Mr Brown from Sheffield, who had agreed to accompany him on the flight.
The Mercury noted: “All the surrounding space was full of life, the neighbouring walls and windows, the roofs of the houses and the steeple tops, were crowded with unbreathing multitudes, eager to behold the commencement of a voyage which few would dare to make”
At twenty minutes to two, the Misses Mundy and Bilbe from Shipley Hall presented two flags to the ‘aeronauts,’ and shortly after, Windham Sadler gave the order to set the balloon free.
It slowly began to rise, causing at first, astonishment, throughout the watching crowd ,which then gave way to loud cheering and waving as it gained height and started to drift in a north easterly direction.
The two aeronauts returned the waves from the people below, by enthusiastically waving their flags, from each end of the car. Within five minutes, the balloon entered thick cloud and was lost to view.
In a subsequent interview with the Derby Mercury, Windham Sadler gave his own account of the voyage. “After several minutes. two pigeons were released ,which fluttered about rather astonished at their elevation,” he said.
A third pigeon was released but “seemed so very timid, that it would not leave the car, although I attempted repeatedly to free it from the edge, and perceiving the alarm of the poor creature, I desisted, and allowed it to remain with us”
After fifteen minutes, the balloon had reached a height of one mile and a quarter.
Both aeronauts marvelled at the clouds beneath them, likening them to “Immense craters, covered by eternal snows, variously tinged with the sun’s rays”
Windham now started to let gas escape from the balloon and began a descent that soon brought them below the cloud level and into view of inhabitants of the villages below.
At seven hundred yards above the ground, the aeronauts were able to converse with people on the ground, with the aid of a speaking trumpet.
Finally, after the third pigeon had accepted its freedom and flown away, the balloonists made an approach towards a large area of grassland.
Throwing out a grappling iron, it took hold in the top of a hedgerow, before pulling free and digging into the grass, bringing the car and balloon down to a safe landing.
They had landed in a field that was part of Portland Park in Kirkby, near Mansfield, a journey of 22 miles, covered in 45 minutes.
Several villagers came across to help the aeronauts from the car and Major and Mrs Jessop invited them back to their house for refreshments, while everything was being packed away in readiness for the carriage journey back to Derby.
Several days later , the Derby Mercury commented that they believed Windham Sadler hadn’t received as much money that he should have been entitled to, given the number of people who had watched the launch and taking into account the great risks involved.
The newspaper invited the public to contribute as much as they could afford, with a promise that all money collected would be passed on to the man who had accomplished a remarkable feat and provided the people of Derby with the great spectacle of the first balloon flight from the town.
Tragically, less than a year after his appearance in Derby, Windham Sadler was killed in a balloon accident between Bolton and Blackburn. He was just 28 years old.
A pioneer in his field, Derby should never forget this brave man, and that day in 1823, when its townsfolk witnessed a piece of history.
Bentfield Charles Hucks, known to his friends as ‘Benny’ , first qualified to fly in 1911 and just a year later was sponsored by the Daily Mail newspaper to tour the Midlands, giving flying exhibitions in his 75hp Bleriot Monoplane.
On July 9, 1912, the Derby Telegraph announced that Mr Hucks would be landing on the Racecourse, on the evening of the 11th. This news caused great excitement and anticipation throughout the town as this would be the first time that an aircraft had flown over the skies of Derby.
Benny had originally planned to fly from Birmingham to Dunstall Park in Wolverhampton before flying on to Nottingham and then Derby, but en route to Wolverhampton, three piston rods on his plane smashed and he was forced to spend a day repairing the engine at Dunstall Park.
On the 11th of July, he decided to fly direct to Derby, but had another false start, when, shortly after takeoff, he had to return to replace faulty spark plugs.
Finally, at 5.25 pm, he took off again, and half an hour later, the tiny speck of his Bleriot, was spotted by thousands of people waiting on and around the Racecourse as it approached.
Flying at 1,800ft, the plane had passed over Derby and began to descend. On reaching the course, it banked and gracefully came in for a pinpoint landing, close to a white cross that had been placed on the grass, to guide him in.
On stepping from the plane, he was greeted by the Mayor. The Bleriot had covered the 40 miles from Wolverhampton at an average speed of 80 miles per hour.
At 8pm that evening, an even larger crowd had gathered at the Racecourse to watch the exhibition.
After a smooth take off, Benny took the Bleriot to a great height over Breadsall, almost disappearing from view, before suddenly coming back at a fast speed and flying very low over the watching crowd, causing some spectators to run for cover. He then banked the plane and rose away from the crowd.
Huge numbers of people along Stores Road cheered in approval.
After coming in again, low over the canal, they got a close up view of the plane, before it came in to land, to a rapturous reception.
It was noted that several work horses, grazing on the racecourse fields, suddenly turned and all stood in a straight line, gazing at Benny Hucks, as if in astonishment.
That evening a group of Derby scouts guarded the precious Bleriot, in its temporary shelter on the edge of the cricket ground,
A planned onward flight to Mansfield on the Friday evening was cancelled, due to thunderstorms in the area, and it wasn’t until 11am on the Saturday morning that Benny finally took off, flying over the straight mile and setting course for Mansfield,
Thousands of people had gathered to bid farewell to this pioneer aviator who had given those that had seen his exploits in Derby, a glimpse of the future.
In 1913, Benny Hucks became the first pilot in Britain to perform a loop in an aircraft and shortly before the outbreak of the First World War, joined the Royal Flying Corps.
He served on the Western Front until a severe attack of pleurisy caused him to be sent home.
After recovering, he continued to work as a test pilot at Hendon.
Sadly, he died of pneumonia, just a few days before the war ended, at the age of 34.
Derby should never forget this brave man [Sadler], and that day in 1823, when it’s townsfolk witnessed a piece of history.