WHEN DID it all begin, this enthusiasm for adventures undertaken for charity – philanthr-adventure, it might be called? Cian Ó Brolcháin’s achievement in conquering Everest in aid of the Cystic Fibrosis Association (Irish Times, May 28th) overlapped with an amazing journey on foot, by bike and in kayaks, by an intrepid pair, Maghnus Collins Smyth and David Burns, who are on a 16,000km trip from Istanbul to Shanghai in aid of Self Help Africa (Irish Times, April 20th).
Could the trend perhaps be traced back to 1822 and an event organised by balloonist Edmund D Livingston in Dublin? This was in the second phase of ballooning in Ireland, following Richard Crosbie’s spectacular balloon launches which enthralled the public in 1785-86.
Livingston was an associate of the English balloonists James and Windham Sadler, a father-and-son team. James was the first Englishman to fly, ascending in a balloon near Oxford in 1784. Windham’s greatest claim to fame was that he was the first to cross the Irish Sea by balloon, flying from Dublin to Holyhead on July 27th, 1817. Livingston made some ascents with the Sadlers in England, and in 1822, he went on to make two solo balloon flights in Dublin. The first of these showed that he had a generous and philanthropic nature – or perhaps just a keen entrepreneurial instinct.
In 1821-22, the potato crop failed in the south and west of the country, and the resulting famine caused up to 100,000 deaths. The Mansion House Committee, headed by the lord mayor of Dublin, established a fund to provide relief to the distressed.
Livingston was already planning a balloon flight in the city in June 1822, and on learning that some fund-raising events for famine relief had yielded very little money, he announced that all profits from his flight would go to the relief fund. Livingston’s only request was for the assistance of some people to act as cashiers and stewards on the day. His magnanimous offer was warmly welcomed. Livingston also announced that he would drop tickets for the state lottery from the basket as he ascended and that the finders could claim prizes. The event attracted a large crowd, and Livingston ultimately contributed over £230 to the lord mayor’s fund. This was among the highest single amounts donated, and Livingston’s balloon launch may well have been the only profitable one in Ireland up to then.
On Thursday, June 27th, 1822, the balloon took off from Portobello Barracks, from where Windham Sadler had set off on his successful crossing of the Irish Sea five years earlier. The scene was reported as presenting “a very agreeable coup d’oeil; carriages with very handsome equipages and beautiful inmates were drawn up around the barrack yard whilst an ample space for promenade was almost enclosed by the surrounding vehicles”. The flight, alas, was not very successful. All seemed to go well at first, with the balloon “in a direct line for Holyhead”, but then “a counter-current of air pushed it northwards”. It ultimately came down in the sea near Baldoyle. Livingston was in the water for some time before being rescued by a lifeboat under the command of Capt Speck. He returned to Dublin by post-chaise and the damaged car and balloon were lodged for safe-keeping in the new Metropolitan Chapel on Marlborough Street.
Livingston was encouraged by the lord mayor and others to hold a second flight for his own profit, and he agreed to do so. After many frustrating postponements, common for this kind of event, the flight took place on August 5th, again from Portobello Barracks. An incident at the launch provided great amusement to the waiting crowd, as reported in the press. A viewing platform had been erected and it was commandeered by a group of dandies who proceeded to make an exhibition of themselves. But “some envious elf” went underneath and removed supports from the platform, which then toppled to the ground. “Suddenly they became a promiscuous heap, moving on all fours, to the great injury of stays and derangement of well-adjusted stiffners. It afforded great amusement to many who diverted themselves by enjoying a laugh at the expense of a set of coxcombs”.
Livingston took off at 2.40pm and was seen gliding over Ranelagh (where Crosbie had made the first manned balloon flight in Ireland in January 1785) and Stillorgan. However, the balloon fell to earth in an area described as “Corner’s Court, Cabinteely” (today’s Cornelscourt). There, Livingston was attacked by unimpressed farmers who claimed he had destroyed their crops, and who demanded compensation with menaces. They held on to the balloon – and to the balloonist – until he finally handed over £5. The Freeman’s Journal lamented this attack by the peasantry on a man who had so generously supported their suffering brethren in the south of Ireland.
To add to his woes, Livingston learned that this second flight was not a financial success. The Journal’s comment was terse: “Mr Livingston’s losses last Monday . . . will greatly exceed £200. We know it is only necessary to state this fact. We are, therefore, done”. This rebuke must have had some effect, because his total loss was later reported as £90.
Livingston went on to make a successful flight in his native Belfast in June 1824, the first in that city.
The last report I have found about him was in 1826, when his offer to stage a balloon flight in aid of distressed weavers of Dublin was politely declined by the relief committee.
Perhaps it was recognised that balloon fatigue had set in, and that such spectacular events were no longer successful as fundraisers. However, their time has come again, it seems, 190 years after Livingston’s Portobello Barracks exploits.