The inhabitants of the quiet village of Marsham have grown accustomed to the aerial exploits of Mr. Francis Rowbotham. For a small fee Mr. Rowbotham would take thrill seekers into the heavens in his hot air balloon. In those lofty heights many passengers discovered a new sense of joy at the beauty of God's creation as they viewed the unparalleled vistas of the Kentish countryside. Alas, Mr. Rowbotham will no longer be imparting such delights to his happy customers, for on the third of June senseless tragedy ended his life.
It was clear from early morning that the day would be unusual, though none of the inhabitants could have imagined the shocking conclusion. Mr. Joseph Twistleton, who manages the stable in this quiet hamlet east of Chiselhurst, observed the preparations.
"Mr. Rowbotham was out in the field early that day," Mr. Twistleton explained. "His equipment took four men to set up, though he often operated it by himself once things had been arranged to his liking. This time of year, the crowds are very small, so he would send his men back to his farm to attend to the fields. They were just setting things up when the wagon arrived.
"There were three men in the wagon; two gentlemen and the driver. They greeted Mr. Rowbotham, who seemed to be expecting them. There was a great deal of equipment to unload from the wagon, the largest item appeared to be some sort of cannon, though it looked as if it had two barrels. They set up the cannon in the next field over and across the road from Mr. Rowbotham's balloon. I was busy with my own work, of course, and couldn't watch them the entire time. Eventually, I heard Mr. Rowbotham's men driving by the stable, so I looked outside and saw the balloon rising slowly into the air. The two gentlemen were in the basket with him.
"A while later, while I was brushing one of the horses, there was a tremendous roaring sound outside, like a great wind or distant thunder. It excited the horses. I was calming the animals down when a tremendous explosion shook the very timbers of the stable, which disturbed the horses no end. Once I got all the animals under control, I rushed outside to see what was amiss.
"I looked around, and I could see the balloon high in the sky, drifting east. The flame of its engine wsa burning full on, and the rope, which ordiniarly was attached to a winch anchored firmly to the ground, had been cut loose. I heard the strange roaring/thunder sound again, and saw, rising from the cannon, a rocket, much larger than any I have every seen on Guy Fawkes day. As it rose up into the sky on its tail of fire I followed it across the sky. It was aimed straight at the drifting balloon! Before it had reached the balloon, some small projectile was fired from the basket, and the rocket exploded with a sound like the crack of doom. It was even worse than the first explosion, and this time two of the horses got out of the barn. I chased them out into the road, but they were too fast for me.
"As I turned to run back to the stable, I noticed someone on the road near the field where the cannon was stationed. There was a vary grand carriage, painted black and red with gold fixtures, fine red plumes on the carriage and on the matched stallions. There was a gentleman standing on the roadway next to the carriage. He was gesturing wildly, as if trying to signal the men in the balloon," Mr. Twistleton said. After witnessing these freakish events, Mr. Twistleton was occupied trying to calm his charges, and retreive the two escaped horses, and thus saw no more of the strange happenings in the sky.
However, Miss Margaret Stoner, a lifelong resident of Marsham and an avid birder, saw much more. She was hiking along Milton creek, not quite three miles east of Marsham, when she heard an enormous explosion. "There was a flash of light that seemed to come from directly overhead, followed by a peal of thunder," said Miss Stonger. "I looked up and saw what appeared to be a cloud of smoke, with bits of debris tumbling away from it. Then, just west of the cloud, I saw the balloon. I have seen Mr. Rowbotham's hot air balloon many times, of course, but never floating free, as it was that day. I was accustomed to seeing it tethered to the ground, and thus never far from his usual field.
"I knew that something must be greatly amiss, so I trained my field glasses on the gondola. There were two men in the balloon along with Mr. Rowbotham. One was slender and blond with a nicely trimmed beard. The other was dark haired and not as tall as the first. The dark-haired gentleman was aiming a device toward the ground. I thought at first it was a gun, until he moved it, when I saw a distinctive reflection off a lense that was mounted in the end of the barrel of the object. I was trying to puzzle out what sort of spyglass or telescope could be operated in the manner he was using it, when Mr. Rowbotham struck the man.
"The two struggled, while the third man, the blond gentleman, climbed up and tried to adjust the hot air apparatus, which was emitting a constant plume of flame at the moment. The gentleman and Mr. Rowbotham continued to struggle. It seemed that the gentleman was releasing each of the ballast weights, and Mr. Rowbotham was trying to prevent it. Suddenly, the two of them pitched over the side of the gondola! I felt faint for a moment. When I recovered and trained my glasses on the ballon once more, the gentleman who had been struggling with Mr. Rowbotham was dangling upside down beneath the gondola, his leg entangled in one of the ropes. Of Mr. Rowbotham there was no sign.
"During all of this, the balloon had continued to rise and drift eastward with the wind. The blond gentleman threw a line down to the dark-haired man and pulled him back into the gondola. The man had scarcely reached safety when his companion became very agitated, pointing westward. I looked that way, and saw what appeared to be a chinese rocket hurtling through the air toward them! I looked back at the balloon, and the blond man was aiming some sort of apparatus at the approaching rocket. He pulled a lever, and another rocket, considerably smaller than the one bearing down upon them, flew from the apparatus.
"As improbable as it seems, this second rocket struck the first in midair. There was a tremendous explosion and a great gust of wind, which nearly knocked me off my feet. By this point I began to wonder if a war had been declared which the newspapers had neglected to report! I reoriented myself, and focused my field glasses upon the ballon once more. When I did, I could see that the gondola was on fire. The two worked valiantly to extinguish the flames. After many tense moments, they succeeded. However, it was clear that the hot air apparatus was damaged, and likely the venting controls as well. The balloon drifted eastward on the winds, until it disappeared over the horizon."
Meanwhile, Mr. Percy Hunter, a local gardner, had also witnessed some of that day's frightful occurences. He was busy pulling weeds when the first explosion sounded. "I tell you without shame that my first instinct was to drop to the ground and cover my head," Mr. Hunter explained. "I was at the seige of Sevastapol, and I knew the sound of a bombarment rocket when I heard one.
"A moment later I realised that there should be no French or Russian rockets flying overhead, and I looked up. I saw that hot air balloon owned by Mr. Rowbotham floating high in the air. I was still trying to figure out where the rocket sound had come from when I saw two men fall from the basket hanging under the balloon. One got tangled in the ropes, and I say tangled because he came to a stop hanging upside, dangling pretty as you please like a mouse hanging from a cat's mouth. The other man wasn't so fortunate. I saw him fall all the way to the ground, landing in the middle of a field of alfalfa. It was a terrible sight. I ran into the house to spread the news and get one of the boys to run into town, while I took two of the men with me out to find the man who had fallen, though we didn't have a hope in the world that he had survived such a long drop.
"We found the body straight away. We were discussing what we should do, since the constable would want to see the scene undisturbed, but it seemed wrong to leave poor Mr. Rowbotham's corpse exposed like that, when along comes this young man driving a wagon, whipping the horses like he was trying to outrun the devil himself. He saw us gathered around the body and he pulled to a halt. He leapt from the wagon and ran over to us. He asked what had happened, and I told him. He says, 'Only the one fell out of the balloon, then?' and I said it was only the one. And then he leaped back onto his wagon, and turned it around, and drove off at a gallop in the other direction. We never saw him again."
In addition to the three upstanding citizens listed above, this reporter spoke with many other inhabitants of Marsham and the surrounding countryside. None had anything further to add to the facts as given, save one. Mr. Jacob Oldacre has been in the employ of the Rowbotham family for many years. He currently serves as a handyman and gardener, though he has, in the past, been employed as a groom and a coachman. Mr. Oldacre was one of the four servants who assisted Mr. Rowbotham that morning with the ballooning equipment.
"Mr. Rowbotham was very excited about the work that day," Mr. Oldacre explained. "He'd received several wires from London the day before, arranging a special ascent, you see. The gentleman wanted to be taken up to attempt some aerial photography, though I don't see how anyone could do such a thing, the way the balloon moves all the time, but that's what he wanted to do. Mr. Rowbotham was right pleased because he thought that there would be a lot of publicity after this, because, you see, the man who hired the balloon was that American outlaw, Kid Rocket, who has been in the papers a great deal recently. He signed all his correspondence with his real name, of course, but Mr. Rowbotham knew it was him.
"The man certainly was an American, and he seemed very young, indeed, for everyone to be calling him 'doctor.' He had another young gentleman with him, who he introduced as some Marquis, a French Marquis, no less. We helped him and his French friend set up their rocket devices. The rocket doctor was very particular how we handled everything because he said they could be quite dangerous. And I guess that proved to be true enough."
No one of the Rowbotham family wished to be
interviewed for this story.
Proceed to This horrid nightmare
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