A great number of persons saw the airship fall. One witness relates that he saw it shortly before two o’clock, and for ten minutes, it seemed to him, it was smothered with shrapnel, held the whole time by a concentration of three or four searchlights. He had watched the bombardment on other visits, but in none of them, he says, did the shells burst in such deadly proximity to their objective. The airship, in his own words, might have been giving her own firework display. He saw the airship make off northwards. Already she was a ship in distress. ‘She yawed and dipped first this end and then that—going, all the time, at a good speed. Then she was lost behind a cloud. A long silence ensued. The sky was full of cloud patches. The searchlights were all shut off. Suddenly the airship was seen far to the northward. She had travelled behind a sheltering cloud. She slipped from its edge, and the searchlights had her at once. It was seen that she was falling. She must have been from 2,000 to 3,000 feet up. She had fallen a little, when suddenly she burst into flames! The light was everywhere. Had your back been to it, or your eyes shut, you must have been sensible of it. The thing fell like the moon falling from heaven, with a long trail of light—only the light was crimson, not green—and as it fell there broke out one of the most eerie sounds ever heard—hand-clapping and cheering from thousands of people all round, whose waking existence one had never suspected in the dark until that moment. They applauded simultaneously as at a pageant, till the sky over London seemed as full of cheering as it had been full of the rosy strange light only a moment before.’