THE conquest of the air could be said to have begun at Viladon les Annonay in France in 1783, when the Montgolfier brothers sent an unmanned hot air balloon to a considerable height. After the first tentative manned ascents shortly afterwards, ballooning quickly became a popular activity all over Europe - and what is more, it was a great spectator sport. Large crowds of working people would gather to witness the events, much to the disapproval of the ruling classes. It was for this reason that in early June, 1785, there appeared on the streets of Dublin a public notice reading thus: "The Lord Mayor, finding it the general opinion of his Fellow Citizens that BALLOON EXHIBITIONS have become very injurious to the public welfare, declares it his intention to prevent them after Potain's Day.
Potain's Day had been fixed for June 17th, 1785. The eponym was a Frenchman, Dr Potain, whose objective on that day was to cross the Irish Sea in a balloon, thus at least equalling the achievement of Jean Pierre Blanchard, who had crossed the English Channel the previous January. The event was widely advertised, the good doctor claiming modestly that his balloon was "the largest, he presumes, ever to be seen in this kingdom", and on the appointed day, no doubt spurred on by the apparent finality of the lord mayor's declaration, a large crowd gathered on Marlborough Green to give the intrepid Frenchman a rousing send off.
Walker's Hibernian Magazine described the scene of the launch with due reverence: "At half past twelve, everything being ready, Doctor Potain got into the boat, and with the most undaunted courage saluted the assembled populace. Then he ran quite perpendicular with such a slow progression as communicated to every mind for many minutes ineffable sensations of majesty and sublimity, until, after appearing for some considerable time as if he were stationary, he accelerated his machine by discharging ballast." And the Magazine also recorded approvingly how the aeronaut seemed to have taken to heart the lord mayor's concerns: the launch was "conducted with an accuracy which repeated experiments had so far improved as to prevent any considerable loss of time to the general industry of the people."
Now, crossing the Irish Sea to Wales from Dublin should be easy, bearing in mind the prevailing westerly nature of our winds. But Potain was unlucky. After only a short sally in the right direction, his course took him almost due south towards the Wicklow Mountains, and he sank to the earth near Roundwood - a bare 20 miles from his starting point in Dublin three hours earlier.