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Title: Wonderful Balloon Ascents; or the Conquest of the Skies

Author: F. (Fulgence) Marion

Release Date: May, 1997  [Etext #899]
[Most recently updated: January 7, 2002]

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Wonderful Balloon Ascents: or, the Conquest of the Skies



A History of Balloons and Balloon Voyages.

from the French of F. Marion

1870



PREFACE

"Let posterity know, and knowing be astonished, that on the
fifteenth day of September, 1784, Vincent Lunardi of Lucca, in
Tuscany, the first aerial traveller in Britain, mounting from the
Artillery Ground in London, and traversing the regions of the air
for two hours and fifteen minutes, on this spot revisited the
earth.  In this rude monument for ages be recorded this wondrous
enterprise successfully achieved by the powers of chemistry and
the fortitude of man, this improvement in science which the great
Author of all Knowledge, patronising by his Providence the
inventions of mankind, hath graciously permitted, to their
benefit and his own eternal glory."

The stone upon which the above inscription was carved, stands, or
stood recently, near Collier's End, in the parish of Standon,
Hertfordshire; and it will possibly afford the English reader a
more accurate idea of the feelings with which the world hailed
the discovery of the balloon than any incident or illustration
drawn from the annals of a foreign country.

The work which we now introduce to our readers does not
exaggerate the case when it declares that no discovery of modern
times has aroused so large an amount of enthusiasm, has excited
so many hopes, has appeared to the human race to open up so many
vistas of enterprise and research, as that for which we are
mainly indebted to the Brothers Montgolfier.  The discovery or
the invention of the balloon, however, was one of those efforts
of genius and enterprise which have no infancy.  It had reached
its full growth when it burst upon the world, and the ninety
years which have since elapsed have witnessed no development of
the original idea. The balloon of to-day--the balloon in which
Coxwell and Glaisher have made their perilous trips into the
remote regions of the air--is in almost every respect the same as
the balloon with which "the physician Charles," following in the
footsteps of the Montgolfiers, astonished Paris in 1783. There
are few more tantalising stories in the annals of invention than
this.  So much had been accomplished when Roziers made his first
aerial voyage above the astonished capital of France that all the
rest seemed easy.  The new highway appeared to have been thrown
open to the world, and the dullest imagination saw the air
thronged with colossal chariots, bearing travellers in perfect
safety, and with more than the speed of the eagle, from city to
city, from country to country, reckless of all the obstacles--the
seas, and rivers, and mountains--which Nature might have placed
in the path of the wayfarer.  But from that moment to the present
the prospect which was thus opened up has remained a vision and
nothing more.  There are--as those who visited the Crystal Palace
two years ago have reason to know--not a few men who still
believe in the practicability of journeying by air. But, with
hardly an exception, those few have abandoned all idea of
utilising the balloon for this purpose.  The graceful "machine"
which astonished the world at its birth remains to this day as
beautiful, and as useless for the purposes of travel, as in the
first hour of its history.  The day may come when some one more
fortunate than the Montgolfiers may earn the Duke of Sutherland's
offered reward by a successful flight from the Mall to the top of
Stafford House; but when this comes to pass the balloon will have
no share in the honour of the achievement.  Not the less,
however, is the story of this wonderful invention worthy of being
recorded. It deserves a place in the history of human
enterprise--if for nothing else--because of the daring courage
which it has in so many cases brought to light.  From the days of
Roziers down to those of Coxwell, our aeronauts have fearlessly
tempted dangers not less terrible than those which face the
soldier as he enters the imminent deadly breach; and, as one of
the chapters in this volume mournfully proves, not a few of their
number have paid the penalty of their rash courage with their
lives.  All the more is it to be regretted that so little
practical good has resulted from their labours and their
sacrifices; and that so many of those who have perished in
balloon voyages have done so whilst serving to better end than
the amusement of a holiday crowd.  There is, however, another
aspect which makes at least the earlier history of the balloon
well worth preserving.  This is the influence which the invention
had upon the generation which witnessed it.   As these pages
show, the people of Europe seem to have been absolutely
intoxicated by the success of the Montgolfiers' discovery.  There
is something bitterly suggestive in our knowledge of this fact.
Whilst pensions and honours and popular applause were being
showered upon the inventors of the balloon, Watt was labouring
unnoticed at his improvements of the steam-engine--a very prosaic
affair compared with the gilded globe which Montgolfier had
caused to rise from earth amidst the acclamations of a hundred
thousand spectators, but one which had before it a somewhat
different history to that of the more startling invention.
England, when it remembers the story of the steam-engine, has
little need to grudge France the honour of discovering the
balloon.  After all, however, Great Britain had its share in that
discovery.  The early observations of Francis Bacon and Bishop
Wilkins paved the way for the later achievement, whilst it was
our own Cavendish who discovered that hydrogen gas was lighter
than air; and Dr. Black of Edinburgh, who first employed that gas
to raise a globe in which it was contained from the earth.  The
Scotch professor, we are told, thought that the discovery which
he made when he sent his little tissue-paper balloon from his
lecture-table to the ceiling of his classroom, was of no use
except as affording the means of making an interesting
experiment.  Possibly our readers, after they have perused this
volume, may think that Dr Black was not after all so far wrong as
people once imagined.  Be this as it may, however, in these pages
is the history of the balloon, and of the most memorable balloon
voyages, and we comprehend the story to our readers not the less
cordially that it comes from the land where the balloon had its
birth.

London, January, 1870.



BALLOONS AND AIR JOURNEYS.

PART I. THE CONQUEST OF THE SKIES.--1783.

Chapter I.  Introduction.

The title of our introduction to aeronautics may appear ambitious
to astronomers, and to those who know that the infinite space we
call the heavens is for ever inaccessible to travellers from the
earth; but it was not so considered by those who witnessed the
ardent enthusiasm evoked at the ascension of the first balloon.
No discovery, in the whole range of history, has elicited an
equal degree of applause and admiration--never has the genius of
man won a triumph which at first blush seemed more glorious.  The
mathematical and physical sciences had in aeronautics achieved
apparently their greatest honours, and inaugurated a new era in
the progress of knowledge.  After having subjected the earth to
their power; after having made the waves of the sea stoop in
submission under the keels of their ships; after having caught
the lightning of heaven and made it subservient to the ordinary
purposes of life, the genius of man undertook to conquer the
regions of the air.  Imagination, intoxicated with past
successes, could descry no limit to human power; the gates of the
infinite seemed to be swinging back before man's advancing step,
and the last was believed to be the greatest of his achievements.

In order to comprehend the frenzy of the enthusiasm which the
first aeronautic triumphs called forth, it is necessary to recall
the appearance of Montgolfier at Versailles, on the 19th of
September, 1783, before Louis XVI, or of the earliest aeronauts
at the Tuileries.  Paris hailed the first of these men with the
greatest acclaim, "and then, as now," says a French writer, "the
voice of Paris gave the cue to France, and France to the world!"
Nobles and artisans, scientific men and badauds, great and small,
were moved with one universal impulse.  In the streets the
praises of the balloon were sung; in the libraries models of it
abounded; and in the salons the one universal topic was the great
"machine." In anticipation, the poet delighted himself with
bird's-eye views of the scenery of strange countries; the
prisoner mused on what might be a new way of escape; the
physicist visited the laboratory in which the lightning and the
meteors were manufactured; the geometrician beheld the plans of
cities and the outlines of  kingdoms; the general discovered the
position of the enemy or rained shells on the besieged town; the
police beheld a new mode in which to carry on the secret service;
Hope heralded a new conquest from the domain of nature, and the
historian registered a new chapter in the annals of human
knowledge.

"Scientific discoveries in general," says Arago, "even those from
which men expect the most advantage, like those of the compass
and the steam-engine, were greeted at first with contempt, or at
the best with indifference.  Political events, and the fortunes
of armies monopolised almost entirely the attention of the
people. But to this rule there are two exceptions--the
discoveries of America and of aerostatics, the advents of
Columbus and of Montgolfier."  It is not here our duty to inquire
how it happened that the discoveries made by these two personages
are classed together.  Air-travelling may be as unproductive of
actual good to society as filling the belly with the east wind"
is to the body, while every one knows something of the extent to
which the discovery of Columbus has influenced the character, the
civilisation, the destinies, in short, of the human race.  We are
speaking at present of the known and well-attested fact, that the
discovery of America and the discovery of the method of
traversing space by means of balloons--however they may differ in
respect of results to man--rank equally in this, that of all
other discoveries these two have attracted the greatest amount of
attention, and given, in their respective eras, the greatest
impulse to popular feeling.  Let the reader recall the marks of
enthusiasm which the discovery of the islands on the east coast
of America excited in Andalusia, in Catalonia, in Aragon and
Castile--let him read the narrative of the honours paid by town
and village, not only to the hero of the enterprise, but even to
his commonest sailors, and then let him search the records of the
epoch for the degree of sensation produced by the discovery of
aeronautics in France, which stands in the same relationship to
this event as that in which Spain stands to the other.  The
processions of Seville and Barcelona are the exact prototypes of
the fetes of Lyons and Paris.  In France, in 1783, as in Spain
two centuries previously, the popular imagination was so greatly
excited by the deeds performed, that it began to believe in
possibilities of the most unlikely description.  In Spain, the
conquestadores and their followers believed that in a few days
after they had landed on American soil, they would have gathered
as much gold and precious stones, as were then possessed by the
richest European Sovereigns. In France, each one following his
own notions, made out for himself special benefits to flow from
the discovery of balloons.  Every discovery then appeared to be
only the precursor of other and greater discoveries, and nothing
after that time seemed to be impossible to him who attempted the
conquest of the atmosphere. This idea clothed itself in every
form. The young embraced it with enthusiasm, the old made it the
subject of endless regrets. When one of the first aeronautic
ascents was made, the old Marechal Villeroi, an octogenarian and
an invalid, was conducted to one of the windows of the Tuileries,
almost by force, for he did not believe in balloons.  The
balloon, meanwhile, detached itself from its moorings; the
physician Charles, seated in the car, gaily saluted the public,
and was then majestically launched into space in his air-boat;
and at once the old Marechal, beholding this, passed suddenly
from unbelief to perfect faith in aerostatics and in the capacity
of the human mind, fell on his knees, and, with his eyes bathed
in tears, moaned out pitifully the words, "Yes, it is fixed! It
is certain!  They will find out the secret of avoiding death; but
it will be after I am gone!"

If we recall the impressions which the first air-journeys made,
we shall find that, among people of enthusiastic temperament, it
was believed that it was not merely the blue sky above us, not
merely the terrestrial atmosphere, but the vast spaces through
which the worlds move, that were to become the domain of man--the
sea of the balloon.  The moon, the mysterious dwelling-place of
men unknown, would no longer be an inaccessible place.  Space no
longer contained regions which man could not cross!  Indeed,
certain expeditions attempted the crossing of the heavens, and
brought back news of the moon.  The planets that revolve round
the sun, the far-flying comets, the most distant stars--these
formed the field which from that time was to lie open to the
investigations of man.

This enthusiasm one can well enough understand.  There is in the
simple fact of an aerial ascent something so bold and so
astonishing, that the human spirit cannot fail to be profoundly
stirred by it. And if this is the feeling of men at the present
day, when, after having been witnesses of ascents for the last
eighty years, they see men confiding themselves in a swinging car
into the immensities of space, what must have been the
astonishment of those who, for the first time since the
commencement of the world, beheld one of their fellow-creatures
rolling in space, without any other assurance of safety than what
his still dim perception of the laws of nature gave him?

Why should we be obliged here to state that the great discovery
that stirred the spirits of men from the one end of Europe to the
other, and gave rise to hopes of such vast discoveries, should
have failed in realising the expectations which seemed so clearly
justified by the first experiments?  It is now eighty-six years
since the first aerial journey astonished the world, and yet, in
1870, we are but little more advanced in the science than we were
in 1783.  Our age is the most renowned for its discoveries of any
that the world has seen.  Man is borne over the surface of the
earth by steam; he is as familiar as the fish with the liquid
element; he transmits his words instantaneously from London to
New York; he draws pictures without pencil or brush, and has made
the sun his slave.  The air alone remains to him unsubdued.  The
proper management of balloons has not yet been discovered.  More
than that, it appears that balloons are unmanageable, and it is
to air-vessels, constructed more nearly upon the model of birds,
that we must go to find out the secret of aerial navigation.  At
present, as in former times, we are at the mercy of
balloons--globes lighter than the air, and therefore the sport
and the prey of tempests and currents.  And aeronauts, instead of
showing themselves now as the benefactors of mankind, exhibit
themselves mainly to gratify a frivolous curiosity, or to crown
with eclat a public fete.



Chapter II.  Attempts in Ancient Times to Fly in the Air.

Before contemplating the sudden conquest of the aerial kingdom,
as accomplished and proclaimed at the end of the last century, it
is at once curious and instructive to cast a glance backward, and
to examine, by the glimmering of ancient traditions, the attempts
which have been made or imagined by man to enfranchise himself
from the attraction of the earth

The greater number of the arts and sciences can be traced along a
chronological ladder of great length: some, indeed, lose
themselves in the night of time."  The accomplishment of raising
oneself in the air, however, had no actual professors in
antiquity, and the discovery of Montgolfier seems to have come
into the world, so to speak, spontaneously.  By this it is to be
understood that, unlike Copernicus and Columbus, Montgolfier
could not read in history of any similar discovery, containing
the germ of his own feat.  At least, we have no proof that the
ancient nations practiced the art of aerial navigation to any
extent whatever.  The attempts which we are about to cite do not
strictly belong to the history of aerostatics.

Classic mythology tells us of Daedalus, who, escaping with his
son Icarus from the anger of Minos, in the Isle of Crete, saved
himself from the immediate evil by the aid of wings, which he
made for himself and his son, and by means of which they were
enabled to fly in the air.  The wings, it appears, were soldered
with wax, and Icarus, flying too high, was struck by a ray of the
sun, which melted the wax.  The youth fell into the sea, which
from him derived its name of Icarian.  It is possible that this
fable only symbolisms the introduction of sails in navigation.

Coming down through ancient history, we note a certain Archytas,
of Tarentum, who, in the fourth century B. C., is said to have
launched into the air the first "flying stag," and who, according
to the Greek writers, "made a pigeon of wood, which flew, but
which could not raise itself again after having fallen."  Its
flight, it is said, "was accomplished by means of a mechanical
contrivance, by the vibrations of which it was sustained in the
air."

In the year 66 A.D., in the time of Nero, Simon, the
magician--who called himself "the mechanician"--made certain
experiments at Rome of flying at a certain height.  In the eyes
of the early Christians this power was attributed to the devil,
and St. Peter, the namesake of this flying man, is said to have
prayed fervently while Simon was amusing himself in space.  It
was possibly in answer to his prayers that the magician failed in
his flight, fell upon the Forum, and broke his neck on the spot.

From the summit of the tower of the hippodrome at Constantinople,
a certain Saracen met the same fate as Simon, in the reign of the
Emperor Comnenus.  His experiments were conducted on the
principle of the inclined plane.  He descended in an oblique
course, using the resistance of the air as a support.  His robe,
very long and very large, and of which the flaps were extended on
an osier frame, preserved him from suddenly falling.

The inclined plane probably suggested to Milton the flight of the
angel Uriel, in "Paradise Lost," who descended in the morning
from heaven to earth upon a ray of the sun, and ascended in the
evening from earth to heaven by the same means.  But we cannot
quote here the fancies of pure imagination, and we will not speak
of Medeus the magician, of the enchantress Armida, of the witches
of the Brocken, of the hippogriff of Zephyrus with the rosy
wings, or of the diabolical inventions of the middle ages, for
many of which the stake was the only reward.

Roger Bacon, in the thirteenth century, inaugurated a more
scientific era.  In his "Treaty of the Admirable Power of Art and
Nature," he puts forth the idea that it is possible "to make
flying-machines in which the man, being seated or suspended in
the middle, might turn some winch or crank, which would put in
motion a suit of wings made to strike the air like those of a
bird."  In the same treatise he sketches a flying-machine, to
which that of Blanchard, who lived in the eighteenth century,
bears a certain resemblance.  The monk, Roger Bacon, was worthy
of entering the temple of fame before his great namesake the Lord
Chancellor, who in the seventeenth century inaugurated the era of
experimental science.

Jean Baptiste Dante, a mathematician of Perugia, who lived in the
latter part of the fifteenth century, constructed artificial
wings, by means of which, when applied to thin bodies, men might
raise themselves off the ground into the air.  It is recorded
that on many occasions he experimented with his wings on the Lake
Thrasymenus.  These experiments, however, had a sad end.  At a
fete, given for the celebration of the marriage of Bartholomew
d'Alvani, Dante, who must not be confounded with the poet, whose
flights were of quite another kind--offered to exhibit the wonder
of his wings to the people of Perugia.  He managed to raise
himself to a great height, and flew above the square; but the
iron with which he moved one of his wings having been bent, he
fell upon the church of the Virgin, and broke his thigh.

A similar accident befell a learned English Benedictine Oliver of
Malmesbury.  This ecclesiastic was considered gifted with the
power of foretelling events; but, like other similarly
circumstanced, he does not seem to have beer able to divine the
fate which awaited himself.  He constructed wings after the model
of those which according to Ovid, Daedalus made use of.  These he
attached to his arms and his feet, and, thus furnished, he threw
himself from the height of a tower.  But the wings bore him up
for little more than a distance of 120 paces. He fell at the foot
of the tower, broke his legs, and from that moment led a
languishing life.  He consoled himself, however, in his
misfortune by saying that his attempt must certainly have
succeeded had he only provided himself with a tail.

Before going further, let us take notice that the seventeenth
century is, par excellence, the century distinguished for
narratives of imaginary travels.  It was then that astronomy
opened up its world of marvels.  The knowledge of observers was
vastly increased, and from that time it became possible to
distinguish the surface of the moon and of other celestial
bodies. Thus a new world, as it were, was revealed for human
thought and speculation.  We learned that our globe was not, as
we had supposed, the centre of the universe.  It was assigned its
place far from that centre, and was known to be no more than a
mere atom, lost amid an incalculable number of other globes.  The
revelations of the telescope proved that those who formerly were
considered wise actually knew nothing.  Quickly following these
discoveries, extraordinary narratives of excursions through space
began to be given to the world.

Those scientific romances were simply wild exaggerations, based
upon the thinnest foundation of scientific facts.  In order,
however, to describe a journey among the stars, it was necessary
to invent some mode of locomotion in these distant regions.  In
former times Lucian had been content with a ship which ascended
to the rising moon upon a waterspout; but it was now necessary to
improve upon this very primitive mode, as people began to know
something more of the forces of nature.  One of the first of
these travellers in imagination to the moon in modern times was
Godwin (1638), and his plan was more ingenious than that of
Lucian.  He trained a great number of the wild swans of St.
Helena to fly constantly upward toward a white object, and,
having succeeded in thus training them, one fine night he threw
himself off the Peak of Teneriffe, poised upon a piece of board,
which was borne upward to the white moon by a great team of the
gigantic swans. At the end of twelve days he arrived, according
to his story, at his destination.  A little later another writer
of this peculiar kind of fiction, Wilkins, an Englishman,
professed to have made the same ascent, borne up by an eagle.
Alexandre Dumas, who recently wrote a short romance upon the same
subject, only made a translation of an English work by that
author.  Wilkins' work is entitled, "The Discovery of a New
World."  One chapter of the book bears the title, "That 'tis
possible for some of our posterity to find out a conveyance to
this other world; and, if there be inhabitants there, to have
commerce with them."  It is thus that the right reverend
philosopher reasons:--

"If it be here inquired what means there may be conjectured for
our ascending beyond the sphere of the earth's mathematical
vigour, I answer.--1. 'Tis not possible that a man may be able to
fly by the application of wings to his own body, as angels are
pictured, as Mercury and Daedalus are feigned, and as hath been
attempted by divers, particularly by a Turk in Constantinople, a
Busbequius relates.  2. If there be such a great duck in
Madagascar as Marcus Polus, the Venetian, mentions, the feathers
of whose wings are twelve feet long, which can scoop up a horse
and his rider, or an elephant, as our kites do a mouse; why,
then, 'Tis but teaching one of these to carry a man, and he may
ride up thither, as Ganymede does upon an eagle.  3. Or if
neither of these ways will serve yet I do seriously, and upon
good grounds, affirm it is possible to make a flying chariot, in
which a man may sit and give such a motion to it as shall convey
him through the air. And this, perhaps, might be made large
enough to carry divers men at the same time, together with food
for their viaticum, and commodities for traffic.  It is not the
bigness of anything in this kind that can hinder its motion if
the motive faculty be answerable "hereunto.  We see that; great
ship swims as well as a small cork, and an eagle flies in the air
as well as a little gnat.  This engine may be contrived from the
same principles by which Archytas made a wooden dove, and
Regiomontanus a wooden eagle.  I conceive it were no difficult
matter (if a man had leisure) to show more particularly the means
of composing it. The perfecting of such an invention would be of
such excellent use that it were enough, not only to make a man
famous but the age wherein he lives.  For, besides the strange
discoveries that it might occasion in this other world, it would
be also of inconceivable advantage for travelling, above any
other conveyance that is now in use.  So that, notwithstanding
all these seeming impossibilities, it is likely enough that there
may be a means invented of journeying to the moon; and how happy
shall they be that are first successful in this attempt!"

Afterwards comes Cyrano of Bergerac, who promulgates five
different means of flying in the air.  First, by means of phials
filled with dew, which would attract and cause to mount up.
Secondly, by a great bird made of wood, the wings of which should
be kept in motion.  Thirdly, by rockets, which, going off
successively, would drive up the balloon by the force of
projection.  Fourthly, by an octahedron of glass, heated by the
sun, and of which the lower part should be allowed to penetrate
the dense cold air, which, pressing up against the rarefied hot
air, would raise the balloon.  Fifthly, by a car of iron and a
ball of magnetised iron, which the aeronaut would keep throwing
up in the air, and which would attract and draw up the balloon.
The wiseacre who invented these modes of flying in the air seems,
some would say, to have been more in want of very strict
confinement on the earth than of the freedom of the skies.

In 1670 Francis Lana constructed the flying-machine shown on the
next page.  The specific lightness of heated air and of hydrogen
gas not having yet been discovered, his only idea for making his
globes rise was to take all the air out of them. But even
supposing that the globes were thus rendered light enough to
rise, they must inevitably have collapsed under the atmospheric
pressure.

As for the idea of making use of a sail to direct the balloon, as
one directs a vessel, that also was a delusion; for the whole
machine, globes and sails, being freely thrown into the air,
would infallibly follow the direction of the wind, whatever that
might be.  When a ship lies in the sea, and its sails are
inflated with the wind, we must remember that there are two
forces in operation--the active force of the wind and the passive
force of the resistance of the water; and in working these forces
the one against the other, the sailor can turn within a point of
any direction he pleases.  But when we are subjected wholly to a
single force, and have no point of support by the use of which to
turn that force to our own purposes, as is the case with the
aeronaut, we are entirely at the mercy of that force, and must
obey it.

After the flying-machine of Lana there was constructed by Galien
(who, like the former, was an ecclesiastic) an air-boat, less
chimerical in its form, looked at in view of the conditions of
aerial navigation, but much more singular.  Galien describes his
air-boat, in 1755, in his little work entitled, "The Art of
Sailing in the Air."  His project was a most extraordinary one,
and its boldness is only equalled by the seriousness of the
narrative. According to him, the atmosphere is divided into two
horizontal layers, the upper of which is much lighter than the
lower.  "But," says Galien, "a ship keeps its place in the water
because it is full of air, and air is much lighter than water.
Suppose, then, that there was the same difference of weight
between the upper and the lower layer of air as there is between
the lower stratum and water; and suppose, also, a boat which
rested upon the lower layer of air, with its bulk in the lighter
upper layer--like a ship which has its keel in the water but its
bulk in the air--the same thing would happen with the air-ship as
with the water-ship--it would float in the denser layer of air."

Galien adds that in the region of hail there was in the air a
separation into two layers, the weights of which respectively are
as 1 to 2. "Then," says he, "in placing an air-boat in the region
of hail, with its sides rising eighty-three fathoms into the
upper region, which is much more light, one could sail
perfectly."

But how to get this enormous air-boat up to the region of hail?
This is a minor detail, respecting which Galien is not clear.

From the labours of Lana and Galien, with their impossible flying
machines, the inventor of the balloon could derive no benefit
whatever; nor is his fame to be in the least diminished because
many had laboured in the same field before him. Nor can the story
of the ovoador, or flying man, a legend very confused, and of
which there are many versions, have given to Montgolfier any
valuable hints.  It appears that a certain Laurent de Guzman, a
monk of Rio Janeiro, performed at Lisbon before the king, John
V., raising himself in a balloon to a considerable height.  Other
versions of the story give a different date, and assign the
pretended ascent to 1709.  The above engraving, extracted from
the "Bibliotheque de la Rue de Richelieu," is an exact copy of
Guzman's supposed balloon.

In 1678 a mechanician of Salle, in Maine, named Besnier invented
a flying-machine.  The machine consisted of four great wings, or
paddles, mounted at the extremities of levers, which rested on
the shoulders of the man who guided it, and who could move them
alternately by means of his hands and feet.  The following
description of the machine is given in the Journal de Paris by an
eye-witness:

"The 'wings' are oblong frames, covered with taffeta, and
attached to the ends of two rods, adjusted on the shoulders The
wings work up and down.  Those in front are worked by the hands;
those behind by the feet, which are connected with the ends of
the rods by strings.  The movements were such that when the right
hand made the right wing descend in front, the left foot made the
left wing descend behind; and in like manner the left hand in
front and the right foot behind acted together simultaneously.
This diagonal action appeared very well contrived; it was the
action of most quadrupeds as well as of man when walking; but the
contrivance, like others of the same kind, failed in not being
fitted with gearing to enable the air traveller to proceed in any
other direction than that in which the wind blew him. The
inventor first flew down from a stool, then from a table,
afterwards from a window, and finally from a garret, from which
he passed above the houses in the neighbourhood, and then,
moderating the working of his machine, he descended slowly to the
earth."

Tradition records that under Louis XIV. a certain rope-dancer,
named Alard, announced that on a certain day he would perform the
feat of flying in the air.  We have no description of his wings.
It is recorded, however, that he set out on his adventurous
flight; but he had not calculated all the necessities of the
case, and, falling to the ground, he was dangerously hurt.

Leonardo da Vinci might have known the art of flying in the air,
and might even have practiced it.  A statement to this effect, at
least, is found in several historians.  We have, however,  no
direct proof of the fact.

The Abbe Deforges, of Etampes, announced in the journals in 1772
that he would perform the great feat.  On the appointed day
multitudes of the curious flocked to Etampes.  The abbe's machine
was a sort of gondola, seven feet long and about two feet deep.
Gondola conductor, and baggage weighed in all 213 pounds.  The
pious man believed that he had provided against everything.
Neither tempest nor rain should mar his flight, and there was no
chance of his being upset; whilst the machine, he had decided,
was to go at the rate of thirty leagues an hour.

The great day came, and the abbe, entering his air-boat amidst
the applause of the spectators, began to work the wings with
which it was provided with great rapidity.  "But," says one who
witnessed the feat, "the more he worked, the more his machine
cleaved to the earth, as if it were part and parcel of it."

Retif de la Bretonne, in his work upon this subject, gives the
accompanying picture of a flying man, furnished with very
artistically designed wings, fitting exactly to the shoulders,
and carrying a basket of provisions, suspended from his waist;
and the frontispiece of the "Philosophic sans Pretention" is a
view of a flying-machine.  In the midst of a frame of light wood
sits the operator, steadying himself with one hand, and with the
other fuming a cremaillere, which appears to give a very quick
rotatory movement to two glass globes revolving upon a vertical
axis.  The friction of the globes is supposed to develop
electricity to which his power of ascending is ascribed.

To wings, however, aerial adventurers mostly adhered.  The
Marquis de Racqueville flew from a window of his hotel, on the
banks of the Seine, and fell into a boat full of washerwomen on
the river. All these unfortunate attempts were lampooned,
burlesqued on the stage, and pursued with the mockery of the
public.

Up to this time, therefore, the efforts of man to conquer the air
had miscarried.  They were conducted on a wrong principle, the
machinery employed being heavier than the air itself But, even
before the time of Montgolfier, the principles of aerostation
began to be recognised, though nothing was actually done in the
way of acting upon them. Thus, in 1767, Professor Black, of
Edinburgh, announced in his class that a vessel, filled with
hydrogen, would rise naturally in the air; but he never made the
experiment, regarding the fact as capable of being employed only
for amusement.  Finally, Cavallo, in 1782, communicated to the
Royal Society of London the experiments he had made, and which
consisted in filling soap-bubbles with hydrogen.  The bubbles
rose in the atmosphere, the gas which filled them being lighter
than air.



Chapter III.  The Theory of Balloons.

A certain proposition in physics, known as the "Principle of
Archimedes," runs to the following effect:--"Every body plunged
into a liquid loses a portion of its weight equal to the weight
of the fluid which it displaces."  Everybody has verified this
principle, and knows that objects are much lighter in water than
out of it; a body plunged into water being acted upon by two
forces--its own weight, which tends to sink it, and resistance
from below, which tends to bear it up.  But this principle
applies to gas as well as to liquids--to air as well as to water.
When we weigh a body in the air, we do not find its absolute
weight, but that weight minus the weight of the air which the
body  displaces. In order to know the exact weight of an object,
it would be necessary to weigh it in a vacuum.

If an object thrown into the air is heavier than the air which it
displaces, it descends, and falls upon the earth; if it is of
equal weight, it floats without rising or falling; if it is
lighter, it rises until it comes to a stratum of air of less
weight or density than itself.  We all know, of course, that the
higher you rise from the earth the density of the air diminishes.
The stratum of air that lies upon the surface of the earth is the
heaviest, because it supports the pressure of all the other
strata that lie above.  Thus the lightest strata are the highest.

The principle of the construction of balloons is, therefore, in
perfect harmony with physical laws.  Balloons are simply globes,
made of a light, air-tight material, filled with hot air or
hydrogen gas which rise in the air because (they are lighter than
the air they displace).

The application of this principle appeared so simple, that at the
time when the news of the invention of the balloon was spread
abroad the astronomer Lalande wrote--"At this news we all cry,
'This must be! Why did we not think of it before?'"  It had been
thought of before, as we have seen in the last chapter, but it is
often long after an idea is conceived that it is practically
realised.

The first balloon, Montgolfier's, was simply filled with hot air;
and it was because Montgolfier exclusively made use of hot air
that balloons so filled were named Montgolfiers.  Of course we
see at a glance that hot air is lighter than cold air, because it
has become expanded and occupies more space--that is to say, a
volume of hot air contains actually less air than a volume of the
same size of air that has not been heated.  The difference
between the weight of the hot air and the cold which it displaced
was greater than the weight of tire covering of the balloon.
Therefore the balloon mounted.

And, seeing that air diminishes in density the higher we ascend,
the balloon can rise only to that stratum of air of the same
density as the air it contains.  As the warm air cools it gently
descends.  Again, as the atmosphere is always moving in currents
more or less strong, the balloon follows the direction of the
current of the stratum of air in which it finds itself.

Thus we see how simply the ascent of Montgolfiers, and their
motions, are explained.  It is the same with gas-balloons.  A
balloon, filled with hydrogen gas, displaces an equal volume of
atmospheric air; but as the gas is much lighter than the air, it
is pushed up by a force equal to the difference of the density of
air and hydrogen gas.  The balloon then rises in the atmosphere
to where it reaches layers of air of a density exactly equal to
its own, and when it gets there it remains poised in its place.
In order that it may descend, it is necessary to let out a
portion of the hydrogen gas, and admit an equal quantity of
atmospheric air; and the balloon does not come to the ground till
all, or nearly all, the gas has been expelled and common air
taken in.  Balloons inflated with hydrogen gas are almost the
only ones in use at the present day.  Scarcely ever is a
Montgolfier sent up.  There are aeronauts, however, who prefer a
journey in a Montgolfier to one in a gas-balloon.  The air
voyager in this description of balloon had formerly many
difficulties to contend with.  The quantity of combustible
material which he was bound to carry with him; the very little
difference that there is between the density of heated and of
cold air; the necessity of feeding the fire, and watching it
without a moment's cessation, as it hangs in the rechaud over the
middle of the car, rendered this sort of air travelling subject
to many dangers and difficulties.  Recently, M. Eugene Godard has
obviated a portion of this difficulty by fitting a chimney, like
that which is found of such incalculable service in the case of
the Davy lamp.  It is principally on account of this improvement
that the Montgolfiere has risen so highly in popular esteem.

Generally it is not pure hydrogen that is made use of in the
inflation of balloons.  Aeronauts content themselves with the gas
which we burn in our streets and houses, and thus it suffices, in
inflating the balloon, to obtain from the nearest gas-works the
quantity of gas necessary, and to lead it, by means of a pipe or
tube, from the gasometer to the mouth or neck of the machine.

The balloon is made of long strips of silk, sewn together, and
rendered air-tight by means of a coating of caoutchouc.  A valve
is fitted to the top, and by means of it the aeronaut can descend
to the earth at will, by allowing some quantity of the gas to
escape.  The car in which he sits is suspended to the balloon by
a network, which covers the whole structure.  Sacks of sand are
carried in this car as ballast, so that, when descending, if the
aeronaut sees that he is likely to be precipitated into the sea
or into a lake, he throws over the sand, and his air-carriage,
being thus lightened, mounts again and travels away to a more
desirable resting-place.  The idea of the valve, as well as that
of the sand ballast, is due to the physician Charles.  They
enable the aeronaut to ascend or descend with facility.  When he
wishes to mount, he throws over his ballast; when he wants to
come down, he lets the gas escape by the valve at the roof of the
balloon. This valve is worked by means of a spring, having a long
rope attached to it, which hangs down through the neck to the
car, where the aeronaut sits.

The operation of inflating a balloon with pure hydrogen is
represented in the engraving on the next page.

Shavings of iron and zinc, water, and sulphuric acid, occupy a
number of casks, which communicate, by means of tubes, with a
central cask, which is open at the bottom, and is plunged in a
copper full of water.  The gas is produced by the action of the
water and the sulphuric acid upon the zinc and the iron this is
hydrogen mixed with sulphuric acid.  In passing through the
central copper, or vat, full of water, the gas throws off all
impurities, and comes, unalloyed with any other matter, into the
balloon by a long tube, leading from the central vats.  In order
to facilitate the entrance of the gas into the balloon two long
poles are erected.  These are furnished with pulleys, through
which a rope, attached also to a ring at the top of the balloon,
passes.  By means of this contrivance the balloon can be at once
lightly raised from the ground, and the gas tubes easily joined
to it.  When it is half full it is no longer necessary to suspend
the balloon; on the contrary, it has to be secured, lest it
should fly off.  A number of men hold it back by ropes; but as
the force of ascension is every moment increasing, the work of
restraining the balloon is most difficult and exciting.  At
length, all preparations being complete, the car is suspended,
the aeronaut takes his seat, the words "Let go all!" are shouted,
and away goes the silken globe into space.

The balloon is never entirely filled, for the atmospheric
pressure diminishing as it ascends, allows the hydrogen gas to
dilate, in virtue of its expansive force, and, unless there is
space for this expansion, the balloon is sure to explode in the
air.

An ordinary balloon, with a lifting power sufficient to carry up
three persons, with necessary ballast and materiel, is about
fifty feet high, thirty-five feet in diameter' and 2,250 cubic
feet in capacity.  Of such a balloon, the accessories--the skin,
the network, the car--would weigh about 335 lbs.

To find out the height at which he has arrived, the aeronaut
consults his barometer.  We know that it is the pressure of the
air upon the cup of the barometer that raises the mercury in the
tube.  The heavier the air is, the higher is the barometer.  At
the level of the sea the column of mercury stands at 32 inches;
at 3,250 feet--the air being at this elevation lighter--the
mercury stands at 28 inches; at 6,500 feet above sea level it
stands at 25 inches; at 10,000 feet it falls to 22 inches; at
20,000 feet to 15 inches.  These, however, are merely the
theoretic results, and are subject to some slight variation,
according to locality, &c.

Sometimes the aeronaut makes his descent by means of the
parachute, a separate and distinct contrivance.  If, from any
cause, it appears impracticable to effect a descent from the
balloon itself, the parachute may be of the greatest service to
the voyager at the present day it is chiefly used to astonish the
public, by showing them the spectacle of a man who, from a great
elevation in the air, precipitates himself into space, not to
escape dangers which threaten him in his balloon, but simply to
exhibit his courage and skill.  Nevertheless, parachutes are
often of great actual use, and aeronauts frequently attach them
to their balloons as a precautionary measure before setting out
on an aerial excursion.

The shape of a parachute, shown on the previous page, very much
resembles that of the well-known all serviceable umbrella.  The
strips of silk of which it is formed are sewn together, and are
bound at the top around a circular piece of wood.  A number of
cords, stretching away from this piece of wood, support the car
in which the aeronaut is carried.  At the summit is contrived an
opening, which permits the air compressed by the rapidity of the
descent to escape without causing damage to the parachute from
the stress to which it is subjected.

The rapidity of the descent is arrested by the large surface
which the parachute presents to the air.  When the aeronaut
wishes to descend by the parachute, all that is required is,
after he has slipped down from the car of the balloon to that of
the parachute, to loosen the rope which binds the latter to the
former, which is done by means of a pulley.  In an instant the
aeronaut is launched into space with a rapidity in comparison
with which the wild flights of the balloon are but gentle
oscillations.  But in a few moments, the air rushing into the
folds of the parachute, forces them open like an umbrella, and
immediately, owing to the wide surface which this contrivance
presents to the atmosphere, the violence of the descent is
arrested, and the aeronaut falls gently to the ground, without
receiving too rude a shock.

The virtues of the parachute were first tried upon animals.
Thus, Blanchard allowed his dog to fall in one from a height of
6,500 feet.  A gust of wind caught the falling parachute, and
swept it away up above the clouds.  Afterwards, the aeronaut in
his balloon fell in with the dog in the parachute, both of them
high up in the cloudy reaches of the sky, and the poor animal
manifested by his barking his joy at seeing his master.  A new
current separated the aerial voyagers, but the parachute, with
its canine passenger, reached the ground safely a short time
after Blanchard had landed from his balloon.

Experience has proved that, in the case of a descending
parachute, if the rapidity of the descent is doubled the
resistance of the air is quadrupled; if the rapidity is triple
the resistance is increased ninefold; or, to speak in language of
science, the resistance of the air is increased by the square of
the swiftness of the body in motion.  This resistance increases
in proportion as the parachute spreads, and thus the uniformity
of its fall is established a minute after it has been disengaged
from the balloon. We can, therefore, check the descent of a body
by giving it a surface capable of distension by the action of the
air.

Garnerin, in the year 1802, conceived the bold design of letting
himself fall from a height of 1,200 feet, and he accomplished the
exploit before the Parisians.  When he had reached the height he
had fixed beforehand, he cut the rope which connected the
parachute with the balloon.  At first the fall was terribly
rapid; but as soon as the parachute spread out the rapidity was
considerably diminished.  The machine made, however, enormous
oscillations. The air, gathering end compressed under it, would
sometimes escape by one side sometimes by the other, thus shaking
and whirling the parachute about with a violence which, however
great, had happily no unfortunate effect.

The origin of the parachute is more remote than is generally
supposed, as there was a figure of one which appeared among a
collection of machines at Venice, in 1617.

Another species of parachute, less perfect, to be sure; than that
of Garnerin, but still a practical machine, was described 189
years before the great aeronaut's feat at Paris.  We read in the
narrative of the ambassador of Louis XIV at Siam, at the end of
the seventeenth century, the following passage--"A mountebank at
the court of the King of Siam climbed to the top of a high
bamboo-tree, and threw himself into the air without any other
support than two parasols. Thus equipped, he abandoned himself to
the winds, which carried him, as by chance, sometimes to the
earth, sometimes on trees or houses, and sometimes into the
river, without any harm happening to him."

Is not this the idea of our parachutes?



Chapter IV.  First Public Trial of the Balloon.

(Montgolfier's Balloon Annonay, 5th of June of 1783.)

We are accustomed to rank the brothers Joseph and Etienne
Montgolfier as equally distinguished in the field of science.
The reason for thus associating these two names seems to have
been the fraternal friendship which subsisted in an extraordinary
degree in the Montgolfier family, rather than any equality of
claim which they had to the notice of posterity.  After special
investigation, we find that Joseph Montgolfier was very superior
to his brother, and that it is to him principally, if not
exclusively, that we owe the invention of aerostation.
Nevertheless, we shall not insist upon this fact; and seeing that
a sacred amity always cemented a perfect union in the Montgolfier
family, we will regard that union as unbroken in any sense, and
will not insinuate that the brother of Montgolfier was
undeserving of the honoured rank which in his lifetime he held.

In 1783, the sons of Pierre Montgolfier, a rich papermaker at
Annonay department of Ardeche, were already in the prime of life,
and it is related of them that their principal occupation was
experimenting in the physical sciences.  Joseph Montgolfier,
after being convinced by a number of minor experiments made in
1782 and 1783, that a heat of 180 degrees rarefied the air and
made it occupy a space of TWICE the extent it occupied before
being heated--or, in other words, that this degree of heat
diminished the weight of air by one half--began to speculate on
what might be the shape and the material of a structure which
being filled with air thus heated, would be able to raise itself
from the earth in spite of the weight of its own covering.

His first balloon was a small parallelopiped in very thin
taffeta, containing less than seventy-eight cubic inches of air.
He made it rise to the roof of his apartment in November,
1782--at Avignon, where he then happened to be.  Having returned
some little time after to Annonay,

Joseph and his brother performed the same experiment, together
in the open air with perfect success.  Certain, then, of the new
principle, they made a balloon of considerable size, containing
upwards of sixty-five feet of heated air.

This machine likewise rose, tore away the cords by which it was
at first held down, and mounting in the air to the height of from
two to three hundred feet, fell upon the neighbouring hills after
a considerable flight.  The brothers Montgolfier then made a very
large and strong balloon, with which they wished to bring their
discovery before the public.

The appointed day was the 5th of June, 1783 and the nobility of
the vicinity were invited to be present at the experiment.
Faujas de Saint Fond, author of "La Description des Experiences
de la Machine Aerostatique," published the same year, gives the
following account of it:--

"What," says Saint Fond, "was the general astonishment when the
inventors of the machine announced that immediately it should be
full of gas, which they had the means of producing at will by the
most simple process, it would raise itself to the clouds.  It
must be granted that, in spite of the confidence in the ingenuity
and experience of the Montgolfiers, this feat seemed so
incredible to those who came to witness it, that the persons who
knew most about it--who were, at the same time, the most
favourably predisposed in its favour--doubted of its success.

"At last the brothers Montgolfier commenced their work.  They
first of all began to make the smoke necessary for their
experiment. The machine--which at first seemed only a covering of
cloth, lined with paper, a sort of sack thirty-five feet
high--became inflated, and grew large even under the eyes of the
spectator, took consistence, assumed a beautiful form, stretched
itself on all sides, and struggled to escape.  Meanwhile, strong
arms were holding it down until the signal was given, when it
loosened itself, and with a rush rose to the height of 1,000
fathoms in less than ten minutes."  It then described a
horizontal line of 7,200 feet, and as it had lost a considerable
amount of gas, it began to descend quietly.  It reached the
ground in safety; and this first attempt, crowned with such
decisive success, secured for ever to the brothers Montgolfier
the glory of one of the most astonishing discoveries.

"When we reflect for a moment upon the numberless difficulties
which such a bold attempt entailed, upon the bitter criticism to
which it would have exposed its projectors had it failed through
any accident, and upon the sums that must have been spent in
carrying it out, we cannot withhold the highest admiration for
the men who conceived the idea and carried it out to such a
successful issue."

Etienne Montgolfier has left us a description of this first
balloon. "The aerostatic machine," he says, "was constructed of
cloth lined with paper, fastened together on a network of strings
fixed to the cloth.  It was spherical; its circumference was 110
feet, and a wooden frame sixteen feet square held it fixed at the
bottom.  Its contents were about 22,000 cubic feet, and it
accordingly displaced a volume of air weighing 1,980 1bs.  The
weight of the gas was nearly half the weight of the air, for it
weighed 990 lbs., and the machine itself, with the frame, weighed
500: it was, therefore, impelled upwards with the force of 490
lbs.  Two men sufficed to raise it and to fill it with gas, but
it took eight to hold it down till the signal was given.  The
different pieces of the covering were fastened together with
buttons and button-holes.  It remained ten minutes in the air,
but the loss of gas by the button-holes, and by other
imperfections, did not permit it to continue longer. The wind at
the moment of the ascent was from the north.  The machine came
down so lightly that no part of it was broken."



Chapter V.  Second Experiment.

(Charles's Balloon, Paris, Champ de Mars, 27th of August, 1783.)

The indescribable enthusiasm caused by the ascent of the first
balloon at Annonay, spread in all directions, and excited the
wondering curiosity of the savants of the capital.  An official
report had been prepared, and sent to the Academy of Sciences in
Paris, and the result was that the Academy named a commission of
inquiry.  But fame, more rapid than scientific commissions, and
more enthusiastic than academies, had, at a single flight, passed
from Annonay to Paris, and kindled the anxious ardour of the
lovers of science in that city.  The great desire was to rival
Montgolfier, although neither the report nor the letters from
Annonay had made mention of the kind of gas used by that
experimenter to inflate his balloon.  By one of the frequent
coincidences in the history of the sciences, hydrogen gas had
been discovered six years previously by the great English
physician Cavendish, and it had hardly even been tested in the
laboratories of the chemists when it all at once became famous.
A young man well versed in physics, Professor Charles, assisted
by two practical men, the brothers Robert, threw himself ardently
into the investigation of the modes of inflating balloons with
this gas, which was then called INFLAMMABLE AIR.  Guessing that
it was much lighter than that which Montgolfier had been obliged
to make use of in his third-rate provincial town, Charles leagued
himself with his two assistants to constrict a balloon of
taffeta, twelve feet in diameter, covered with india-rubber, and
to inflate it with hydrogen.

The thing thus arranged, a subscription was opened.  The
projected experiment having been talked of all over Paris, every
one was struck with the idea, and subscriptions poured in.  Even
the most illustrious names are to be found in the list, which may
be called the first national subscription in France.  Nothing had
been written of the forthcoming event in any public paper, yet
all Paris seemed to flock to contribute to the curious
experiment.

The inflation with hydrogen was effected in a very curious
manner. As much as 1,125 lbs. of iron and 560 lbs. of sulphuric
acid were found necessary to inflate a balloon which had scarcely
a lifting power of 22 lbs., and the process of filling took no
less than four hours.  At length, however, at the end of the
fourth hour, the balloon, composed of strips of silk, coated with
varnish, floated, two-thirds full, from the workshop of the
brothers Robert.

On the morning of the 26th of August, the day before the ascent
was to be made, the balloon was visited at daybreak, and found to
be in a promising state.  At two o'clock on the following morning
its constructors began to make preparations to transport it to
the Champ de Mars, from which place it was to be let loose.
Skilled workmen were employed in its removal, and every
precaution was taken that the gas with which it was charged
should not be allowed to escape.  In the meantime the excitement
of the people about this wonderful structure was rising to the
highest pitch. The wagon on which it was placed for removal was
surrounded on all sides by eager multitudes, and the
night-patrols, both of horse and foot, which were set to guard
the avenues leading to where it lay, were quite unable to stem
the tide of human beings that poured along to get a glimpse of
it.

The conveyance of the balloon to the Champ de Mars was a most
singular spectacle.  A vanguard, with lighted torches, preceded
it; it was surrounded by special attendants, and was followed by
detachments of night-patrols on foot and mounted.  The size and
shape of this structure, which was escorted with such pomp and
precaution--the silence that prevailed--the unearthly hour, all
helped to give an air of mystery to the proceedings.  At last,
having passed through the principal thoroughfares, it arrived at
the Champ de Mars, where it was placed in an enclosure prepared
for its reception.

When the dawn came, and the balloon had been fixed in its place
by cords, attached around its middle and fixed to iron rings
planted in the earth, the final process of inflation began.

The Champ de Mars was guarded by troops, and the avenues were
also guarded on all sides.  As the day wore on an immense crowd
covered the open space, and every advantageous spot in the
neighborhood was crowded with people.  At five o'clock the report
of a cannon announced to the multitudes, and to scientific men
who were posted on elevations to make observations of the great
event, that the grand moment had come.  The cords were withdrawn,
and, to the vast delight and wonder of the crowd assembled, the
balloon shot up with such rapidity that in two minutes it had
ascended 488 fathoms.  At this height it was lost in a cloud for
an instant, and, reappearing, rose to a great height, and was
again lost in higher clouds.  The ascent was a splendid success.
The rain that fell damped neither the balloon nor the ardor of
the spectators.

This balloon was 12 feet in diameter, 38 feet in circumference,
and had a capacity of 943 cubic feet.  The weight of the
materials  of which it was constructed was 25 lbs., and the force
of ascension was that of 35 lbs.

The fall of the balloon was caused by the expansion and
consequent explosion of the hydrogen gas.  This event took place
some distance out in the country, close to a number of peasants,
whose terror at the sight and the sound of this strange monster
from the skies was beyond description.  The people assembled, and
two monks having told them that the burst balloon was the hide of
a monstrous animal, they immediately began to assail it
vigorously with stones, flails, and pitchforks.  The cure of the
parish was obliged to walk up to the balloon to reassure his
terrified flock.  They finally attached the burst envelope to a
horse's tail, and dragged it far across the fields.

Many drawings and engravings of the period represent the peasants
armed with pitchforks, flails, and scythes, assailing it, a dog
snapping at it, a garde-champetre firing at it, a fat priest
preaching at it, and a troop of young people throwing stones at
the unfortunate machine.

The news of this fiasco came to Paris, but too late.  When search
was made for the covering, scarcely a fragment could be found.

A somewhat humorous result of all this was the issue of a
communication from government to the people, entitled, "Warning
to the People on kidnapping Air-balloons." This document, duly
signed and approved of, describes the ascents at Annonay and at
Paris, explains the nature and the causes of the phenomena, and
warns the people not to be alarmed when they see something like a
"black moon" in the sky, nor to give way to fear, as the seeming
monster is nothing more than a bag of silk filled with gas.

This first ascent in Paris was an important event.  Every one,
from the smallest to the greatest, was deeply interested in it,
while to the man of science it was one of the most exciting of
incidents.  For the purpose of observing the altitude to which
the balloon rose, and the course it took, Le Gentil was on the
observatory, Prevost was on one of the towers of Notre Dame,
Jeaurat was on La Place Louis XV., and d'Agelet was on the Champ
de Mars.  It was only Lalande that frowned as he witnessed the
success of the experiment.  He had predicted the year before that
air-navigation was impossible.



Chapter VI.  Third Experiment.

(Montgolfier's Balloon, Paris, Faubourg St. Antoine.)

As we have seen, the triumph of aerostation was sudden and
complete. The young Montgolfier had arrived in Paris prior to the
experiment of the 27th of August, and was present as a simple
spectator on that occasion.  immediately afterwards he set to
work upon a balloon, which was to be made use of when the Academy
should investigate the phenomenon at Versailles in presence of
the king, Louis XVI.

It was at this time (September, 1783) that those small balloons,
made of gold-beaters' skin, which are used as children's toys to
the present day, were first made.  The whole of Paris amused
itself with them, repeating in little the phenomenon of the great
ascent. The sky of the capital found itself all at once traversed
by a multitude of small rosy clouds, formed by the hand of man.

Faujas de Saint Fond says that at first an attempt was made to
construct balloons of fine, light paper; but this material being
permeable, and the gas being inflammable, balloons thus made did
not succeed.  It was necessary to seek a material less porous,
and, if possible, still lighter.

The Journal de Paris, of the 11th of September, 1783, informed
the public that the Baron de Beaumanoir, "who cultivated the
sciences and the fine arts with as much success as zeal," would
send up a balloon eighteen inches in diameter.  At noon of the
same day he made this experiment in presence of a numerous
assembly in the garden in front of the Hotel de Surgeres..  The
little balloon mounted freely, but was held in, like a kite, by
means of a silk thread.  In the course of the same afternoon, the
baron took down the balloon and filled it anew with hydrogen, and
then let it off.  The spectators had the pleasure of seeing it
rise to a great height, and pass away in the direction of
Neuilly, and it is said to have been found at a distance of
several leagues, by peasants.

However trifling this experiment may appear at first sight, it
added a new fact to the science of aerostation.  The material
employed by the baron was lighter and better than paper.  It was
what is called gold-beaters' skin.  This skin is simply the
interior lining of the large bowel of the ox.  It is carefully
prepared, is relieved of the fat, stringy and uneven parts, is
dried, and is afterwards softened.  Little balloons of this
material came to be the fashion, and they are still frequently
seen.

At the same time, Montgolfier was busy constructing, at the
request of the Academy of Sciences, a balloon seventy feet high
and forty in diameter, with which it was proposed to repeat the
experiment of Annonay.  He took up his quarters in the
magnificent gardens of  his friend Reveillon, proprietor of the
royal manufactory of stained paper in the Faubourg St. Antoine.
The new balloon was of a very singular shape: the upper part
represented a prism, twenty-four feet high the top was a pyramid
of the same height; the lower part was a truncated cone, twenty
feet in depth.  It was made of packing-cloth, lined with good
paper, both inside and out.

The gossipping and prolix Faujas de Saint Fond thus describes
this machine:--"It was painted blue, represented a sort of tent,
and was richly ornamented with gold Its height was seventy feet;
its weight 1,000 lbs.; the air which it displaced was 4,500 lbs.
in volume, and the vapor with which it was filled was half the
weight of ordinary air.  The approach of the equinox having
brought rain, all the conditions under which this balloon was
constructed and exhibited were unfavourable.  The structure was
so large that it was impossible to get it together and stitch it,
except in the open air--in the garden, in fact, where Montgolfier
commenced its construction.  It was a great labour to turn and
fold this heavy covering, while the liability of the thick paper
to crack was an additional difficulty.  Not less than twenty men
were required to move it, and they were obliged to use all their
skill, and every precaution, not to destroy it.  No balloon had
ever given so much trouble.  On the 11th of September the weather
improved, and the balloon was entirely completed and prepared for
the first experiment. In the evening the attempt was made.  It
was with admiration that the beholders saw the beautiful machine
filling itself in the short space of nine minutes, swelling out
on all sides and showing the full symmetry of its artistic form.
It was firmly held in hand, or it would have risen to a great
height.  On the following day the actual ascent was to take
place, and the commissioners of the Academy of Sciences were
invited to be present.  In the morning thick clouds covered the
horizon, and a tempest was expected; but as there was an ardent
desire that the ascent should take place without delay, and as
all the gearing was in order, it was resolved to proceed.

"Fifty pounds of dry straw were fired in parcels under the
balloon, and upon the fire were thrown at intervals several
pounds of wool. This fuel produced in ten minutes such a volume
of smoke that the huge balloon was speedily filled.  It rose,
with a weight of 500 lbs. holding it down, to some height above
the ground, and had the ropes by which it was attached to the
ground been cut, it would have mounted to a great height.
Meantime the storm broke, rain descended, and the wind blew with
great force.  The most likely means of saving the balloon was to
let it fly but as it was to ascend again on another occasion, at
Versailles, the greatest efforts were made to bring it down, and
these, together with the damage caused by the storm, eventually
rent it into numberless fragments and tatters.  It withstood the
storm for twenty-four hours; then, however, the paper came
peeling off, and this beautiful structure was a wreck."



Chapter VII.  Fourth Experiment.

(Versailles, 19th September, 1783, in presence of Louis of  XVI.)

Of course another balloon was wanted for the fete at Versailles.
The king had demanded an ascent for the 19th, a week after the
disaster at the Faubourg St. Antoine.  Already the possibility of
a man going up with the balloon was discussed, and people
indulged in visions of splendid aerial trips; but the king would
not hear of the proposal.  Balloons were novelties, not offering
sufficient security, and he was unwilling that any of his
subjects should risk their lives in attempting the unknown.  He
consented, however, to a proposal that animals might be sent up
in the first instance, by way of experiment, suspended in an
osier cage attached to the neck of the balloon.

Montgolfier at once began a new balloon.  A few days only were at
his disposal; but, assisted by friends, he worked with such
ardour and success that he was able, on the date appointed, to
produce a magnificent spherical balloon, much stronger than the
former, constructed of good strong cotton cloth, and painted in
distemper.

It is proper here to remark that the first balloons were much
more elegant in appearance than those afterwards made.  The
coloured prints and engravings of the period enable us to form an
opinion of the splendour of their ornamentation and the beauty of
their design.  Sometimes the figures painted upon them
represented scenes from the heathen mythology, and sometimes
historical scenes; while rich embroideries, royal insignia, and
gaily-coloured draperies added much to the general effect.  The
Versailles balloon was painted blue, with ornaments of gold, and
it presented the form of a richly decorated tent.  It was
fifty-seven feet in height, and sixty-seven in diameter.

It was first tried at Paris, and succeeded perfectly.  On the
morning of the 19th it was carried to Versailles, where due
preparation had been made for its reception In the great court of
the castle a sort of theatre had been temporarily erected with a
scaffolding, covered throughout with tapestry In the middle was
an opening more than fifteen feet in diameter, in which was
spread a banquet for those who had constructed the balloon.  A
numerous guard formed a double cordon around the structure.  A
raised platform was used for the fire by means of which the
balloon was to be inflated; a covered funnel or chimney of strong
cloth, painted, was suspended over the fire-place, and received
the hot smoke as it arose.  Through this funnel the heated air
ascended straight up into the balloon.

At six in the morning, the road from Paris to Versailles was
covered with carriages.  Crowds came from all parts, and at noon
the avenues, the square of the castle, the windows, and even the
roofs of the houses, were crowded with spectators.  The noblest,
the most illustrious, and most learned men in France were
present, and the splendour of the scene was complete when their
majesties and the royal family entered within the enclosure, and
went forward to inspect the balloon, and to make themselves
familiar with the preparations for the ascent.

In a short time the fire was lit, the funnel extended over it,
and the smoke rose inside, while the balloon, unfolding,
gradually swelled to its full size, and then, drawing after it
the cage, in which a sheep and some pigeons were enclosed, rose
majestically into the air.  Without interreruption, it ascended
to a vast height, where, inclining toward the north, it seemed to
remain stationary for a few seconds, showing all the beauty of
its form, and then, as though possessed of life, it descended
gently upon the wood of Vaucresson, 10,200 feet from the point of
its departure. Its highest elevation, as estimated by the
astronomers Le Gentil and M. Jeaurat, Jeaurat, was about 1,700
feet.



Chapter VIII.  Men and Balloons.

It is not natural that the human mind should stop upon the way to
the solution of a problem, especially when it seems to be on the
point of arriving at a satisfactory conclusion to its labours.
The osier cage of Versailles very soon transformed itself into a
car, bearing human passengers, and the age of the "Thousand and
One Nights" was expected to come back again.  It was resolved to
continue experiments, with the direct object of finding out
whether it was impossible or desperately dangerous for man to
travel in balloons.  Montgolfier returned from Versailles, and
constructed a new machine in the gardens of the Faubourg St.
Antoine.  It was completed on the 10th of October Its form was
oval, its height 70 feet, its diameter 46 feet and its capacity
60,000 cubic feet.  The upper part, embroidered with
fleurs-de-lis, was further ornamented with the twelve signs of
the zodiac, worked in gold.  The middle part bore the monogram of
the king, alternating with figures of the sun, while the lower
part was garnished with masks, garlands, and spread eagles.  A
circular gallery made of osiers and festooned with draperies and
other ornaments, was attached by a set of cords to the bottom of
the structure.  The gallery was three feet wide, and was
protected by a parapet over three feet in height.  It did not in
any way interfere with the opening at the neck of the balloon,
under which was suspended a grating of iron wire upon which the
occupants of the gallery, who were to be provided with dried
straw and wool, could in a few minutes kindle a fire and create
fresh smoke, when that in the balloon began to be exhausted.  The
machine weighed, in  all, 1,600 lbs. The public had previously
been warned, in the Journal de Paris de Paris, that the
approaching  experiments  were to be of a strictly scientific
character; and as they  would be only interesting to savants,
they would not afford  amusement for the merely curious. This
announcement was necessary, to abate in some degree the
excitement of the people until some satisfactory results should
be obtained; it was also necessary for those engaged in the work,
whose firmness of nerve might have suffered from the enthusiastic
cries of excited spectators.  On Wednesday, the 15th of October,
Pilatre des Roziers, who had on other occasions given proofs of
his intelligence  and courage in performing dangerous feats, and
who had already signalised himself in connection with balloons,
offered to go up in the new machine.  His offer was accepted; the
balloon was inflated; stout ropes, more than eighty feet long,
were attached to it, and it rose from the ground to the  height
to which this tackle allowed it.  At this elevation it remained
four minutes twenty-five seconds; and it is not surprising to
hear that Roziers suffered no inconvenience from the ascent.
What was really the interesting thing in this experiment was,
that it showed how a balloon would fall when the hot air became
exhausted, this being the point which caused the greatest amount
of disquietude among men of science.  In this instance the
balloon fell gently; its form distended  at the same time, and,
after touching the ground, it rose again a foot or two, when its
human passenger had jumped out.

On Friday, the 17th of October, this experiment was repeated,
and the excitement of the public on this occasion was unbounded.
"All the world" came to see.  Roziers was again lifted up in the
balloon, to the height of eighty feet; but so strong was the
wind, and the strain on the ropes was so great, that the balloon
was somewhat unsteady, and the exhibition was not on the whole
such a splendid success as that of the preceding Wednesday.

On Sunday, Montgolfier chose a fine day for the following
ascents:--"First Ascent:  On the 19th of October, 1783, at
half-past four, in presence of two thousand spectators, 'the
machine' was filled with gas in five minutes, and Roziers, being
placed in the gallery with a counterbalancing weight of 110 lbs.
in the other side of the gallery, was carried up to the height of
200 feet.  The machine remained six minutes at this elevation
without any fire in the grating.  Second Ascent:  The machine
carried Roziers and the counterbalancing weight--fire being in
the grating--to the height of 700 feet.  At this height it
remained stationary eight and a half minutes As it was drawn
back, a wind from the east bore it against a tuft of very tall
trees in a neighbouring garden, where it got entangled, without,
however, losing its equilibrium. The gas was renewed by Roziers,
and the balloon again rising, extricated itself from among the
branches, and soared majestically into the air, followed by the
acclamations of the public.  This second ascent was very
instructive, for it had been often asserted that if ever a
balloon fell upon a forest it would be destroyed, and would place
those who travelled in it in the greatest peril. This experiment
proved that the balloon does not FALL it DESCENDS; that it does
not overturn; that it does not destroy itself on trees; that it
neither causes death, nor even damage, to its passengers; that,
on the contrary, the latter, by making new gas, give it the power
of detaching itself from the trees; and that it can resume its
course after such an event.  The intrepid Roziers gave in this
ascent a further proof of the facility he had in descending and
ascending at will.  When the machine had risen to the height of
200 feet it began to descend lightly, and just before it came to
the earth the aeronaut very cleverly and quickly threw on more
fuel and produced more smoke, at which the balloon, to the
astonishment of every one, suddenly soared away again to its
former elevation.  Third Ascent:  The balloon rose again with
Roziers, accompanied this time by another aeronaut, Gerond de
Villette; and as the cords had been lengthened, the adventurers
were carried up to the height of 324 feet.  At this elevation the
balloon rested in perfect equilibrium for nine minutes.  It was
the first time that human beings had ever been carried to an
equal elevation, and the spectators were astonished to find that
they could remain there without danger and without alarm.  The
balloon had a superb effect at this elevation; it looked down
upon the whole town, and was seen from all the suburbs.  Its size
seemed hardly diminished in the least, though the men themselves
were barely visible.  By the aid of glasses, Roziers could be
seen calmly and industriously making new gas.  When the balloon
descended the two men declared that they had not experienced the
slightest inconvenience from the elevation. They received the
universal applause which their zeal and courage so well deserved.
The Marquis d'Arlandes, a major of infantry, afterwards went up
with Roziers, and this latter experiment was as successful as the
former."

Some days after these experiments the conductors of the Journal
de Paris who described them, received a letter from Montgolfier,
and also one from Gerond de Villette.  The latter only is of
interest here.  Gerond de Villette says: "I found myself in the
space of a quarter of a minute raised 400 feet above the surface
of the earth. Here we remained six minutes.  My first employment
was to watch with admiration my intelligent companion.  His
intelligence, his courage and agility in attending to the fire,
enchanted me. Turning round, I could behold the Boulevards, from
the gate of St. Antoine to that of St. Martin, all covered with
people, who seemed to me a flat band of flowers of various
colours.  Glancing at the distance, I beheld the summit of
Montmartre, which seemed to me much below our level.  I could
easily distinguish Neuilly, St. Cloud, Sevres, Issy, Ivry,
Charenton, and Choisy.  At once I was convinced that this
machine, though a somewhat expensive one, might be very useful in
war to enable one to discover the position of the enemy, his
manoeuvres, and his marches; and to announce  these by signals to
one's own army.  1 believe that at sea it is equally possible to
make use of this machine.  These prove the usefulness of the
balloon, which time will perfect for us.  All that I regret is
that I did not provide myself with a telescope."



Chapter IX.  The First Aerial Voyage--Roziers and Arlandes.

These experiments had only one aim--the application of
Montgolfier's discovery to aerial navigation.  The knowledge
gained in the Faubourg St. Antoine having led to the most
favourable conclusions, it was resolved that a first aerial
voyage should be attempted.

"If," says Linguet, "there existed an autograph journal, written
by Columbus, descriptive of his first great voyage with what
jealous care it would be preserved, with what confidence it would
be quoted! We should delight to follow the candid account which
he gave of his thoughts, his hopes, his fears; of the complaints
of his followers, of his attempts to calm them, and, finally, of
his joy in the moment which, ratifying his word and justifying
his boldness, declared him the discoverer of a new world All
these details have been transmitted to us, but by stranger hands;
and, however interesting they may be, one cannot help feeling
that this circumstance makes them lose part of their value."

The narrative of the first aerial voyage, written by one of the
two first aeronauts, exists, and we are in a position to place it
before our readers.  Such an enterprise certainly demanded great
courage in him who was the first to dare to confide himself to
the unknown currents of the atmosphere It threatened him with
dangers, perhaps with death by a fill, by fire, by cold, or by
straying into the mysterious cloud-land.  Two men opposed the
first attempt.  Montgolfier temporised, the king forbade it, or
rather only gave his permission on the condition that two
condemned criminals should be placed in the balloon! "What!"
cried Roziers, in indignation at the king's proposal, "allow two
vile criminals to have the first glory of rising into the sky!
No, no; that will never do!" Roziers conjured, supplicated,
agitated in a hundred ways for permission to try the first
voyage.  He moved the town and the court; he addressed himself to
those who were most in favour at Versailles; he pleaded with the
Duchess de Polignac, who was all-powerful with the king.  She
warmly supported his cause before Louis.  Roziers dispatched the
Marquis d'Arlandes, who had been up with him, to the king.
Arlandes asserted that there was no danger, and, as proof of his
conviction, he offered himself to accompany Roziers.  Solicited
on all sides, Louis at last yielded.

The gardens of La Muette, near Paris, were fixed upon as the spot
from which this aerial expedition should start.  The Dauphin and
his suite were present on the occasion.  It was on the 21st of
October, 1783, at one o'clock p.m., that Roziers and Irelands took
their leave of the earth for the first time.  The following is
Arlandes' narrative of the expedition, given in the form of a
letter, addressed by the marquis to Faujas de Saint Fond:--"You
wish, my dear Faujas, and I consent most willingly to your
desires, that, owing to the number of questions continually
addressed to me, and for other reasons, I should gratify public
curiosity and fix public opinion upon the subject of our aerial
voyage.

"I wish to describe as well as I can the first journey which men
have attempted through an element which, prior to the discovery
of MM. Montgolfier, seemed so little fitted to support them.

"We went up on the 21st of October, 1783, at near two o'clock, M.
Roziers on the west side of the balloon, I on the east.  The wind
was nearly north-west.  The machine, say the public, rose with
majesty; but really the position of the balloon altered so that
M. Roziers was in the advance of our position, I in the rear.

"I was surprised at the silence and the absence of movement which
our departure caused among the spectators, and believed them to
be astonished and perhaps awed at the strange spectacle; they
might well have reassured themselves I was still gazing, when M.
Roziers cried to me--

"'You are doing nothing, and the balloon is scarcely rising a
fathom.'

"'Pardon me,' I answered, as I placed a bundle of straw upon the
fire and slightly stirred it.  Then I turned quickly, but already
we had passed out of sight of La Muette.  Astonished, I cast a
glance towards the river.  I perceived the confluence of the
Oise. And naming the principal bends of the river by the places
nearest them, I cried, 'Passy, St. Germain, St. Denis, Sevres!'

"'If you look at the river in that fashion you will be likely to
bathe in it soon,' cried Roziers.  'Some fire, my dear friend,
some fire!'

"We travelled on; but instead of crossing the river, as our
direction seemed to indicate, we bore towards the Invalides, then
returned upon the principal bed of the river, and travelled to
above the barrier of La Conference, thus dodging about the river,
but not crossing it.

"'That river is very difficult to cross,' I remarked to my
companion.

"'So it seems,' he answered; 'but you are doing nothing I suppose
it is because you are braver than 1, and don't fear a tumble.'

"I stirred the fire, I seized a truss of straw with my fork;  I
raised it and threw it in the midst of the flames.  An instant
afterwards I felt myself lifted as it were into the heavens.

"'For once we move,' said I.

"'Yes, we move,' answered my companion.

"At the same instant I heard from the top of the balloon a sound
which made me believe that it had burst.  I watched, yet I saw
nothing.  My companion had gone into the interior, no doubt to
make some observations.  As my eyes were fixed on the top of the
machine I experienced a shock, and it was the only one I had yet
felt.  The direction of the movement was from above downwards I
then said--

"'What are you doing?   Are you having a dance to yourself?'

"'I'm not moving.'

"'So much the better.  It is only a new current which I hope will
carry us from the river,'  I answered.

"I turned to see where we were, and found we were between the
Ecole Militaire and the Invalides.

"'We are getting on.' said Roziers.

"'Yes, we are travelling.'

"'Let us work, let us work,' said he.

"I now heard another report in the machine, which I believed was
produced by the cracking of a cord.  This new intimation made me
carefully examine the inside of our habitation.  I saw that the
part that was turned towards the south was full of holes, of
which some were of a considerable size.

"'It must descend,' I then cried.

"'Why?'

"'Look!' I said.  At the same time I took my sponge and quietly
extinguished the little fire that was burning some of the holes
within my reach; but at the same moment I perceived that the
bottom of the cloth was coming away from the circle which
surrounded it.

"'We must descend,' I repeated to my companion.

"He looked below.

"'We are upon Paris,' he said.

"'It does not matter,' I answered 'Only look! Is there no danger?
Are you holding on well?'

"'Yes.'

"I examined from my side, and saw that we had nothing to fear.  I
then tried with my sponge the ropes which were within my reach.
All of them held firm. Only two of the cords had broken.

"I then said, 'We can cross Paris.'

"During this operation we were rapidly getting down to the roofs.
We made more fire, and rose again with the greatest ease. I
looked down, and it seemed to me we were going towards the towers
of St. Sulpice; but, on rising, a new current made us quit this
direction and bear more to the south.  I looked to the left, and
beheld a wood, which I believed to be that of Luxembourg.  We
were traversing the boulevard, and I cried all at once--

"'Get to ground!'

"But the intrepid Roziers, who never lost his head, and who
judged more surely than I, prevented me from attempting to
descend.  I then threw a bundle of straw on the fire.  We rose
again, and another current bore us to were now close to the
ground, between two mills.  As soon to the left.  We as we came
near the earth I raised myself over the gallery, and leaning
there with my two hands, I felt the balloon pressing softly
against my head.  I pushed it back, and leaped down to the
ground.  Looking round and expecting to see the balloon still
distended, I was astonished to find it quite empty and flattened.
On looking for Roziers I saw him in his shirt-sleeves creeping
out from under the mass of canvas that had fallen over him.
Before attempting to descend he had put off his coat and placed
it in the basket.  After a deal of trouble we were at last all
right.

"As Roziers was without a coat I besought him to go to the
nearest house.  On his way thither he encountered the Duke of
Chartres, who had followed us, as we saw, very closely, for I had
had the honour of conversing with him the moment before we set
out."

The following report of this first aerial voyage was drawn up by
scientific observers, among other signatures to it being that of
Benjamin Franklin.

"Today 21st of October, 1783, at the Chateau de la Muette, an
experiment was made with the aerostatic machine of M.
Montgolfier. The sky was clouded in many parts, clear in
others--the wind north-west.  At mid-day a signal was given,
which announced that the balloon was being filled.  Soon after,
in spite of the wind, it was inflated in all its parts, and the
ascent was made.  The Marquis d'Arlandes and M. Pilatre des
Roziers were in the gallery.  The first intention was to raise
the machine and pull it back with ropes, to test it, to find out
the exact weight which it could carry, and to see if everything
was properly arranged before the actual ascent was attempted.
But the machine, driven by the wind, far from rising vertically,
was directed upon one of the walks of a garden, and the cords
which held it shook with so much force that several rents were
made in the balloon.  The machine, being brought back to its
place, was repaired in less than two hours.  Being again
inflated, it rose once more, bearing the same persons, and when
it had risen to the height of 250 feet, the intrepid voyagers,
bowing their heads, saluted the spectators. One could not resist
a feeling of mingled fear and admiration. Soon the aeronauts were
lost to view, but the balloon itself, displaying its very
beautiful shape, mounted to the height of 3,000 feet, and still
remained visible.  The voyagers, satisfied with their experience,
and not wishing to make a longer course, agreed to descend, but,
perceiving that the wind was driving them upon the houses of the
Rue de Sevres, preserved their self-possession, renewed the hot
air, rose anew and continued their course till they had passed
Paris.

"They then descended tranquilly in the country, beyond the new
boulevard, without having experienced the slightest
inconvenience, having still the greater part of their fuel
untouched.  They could, had they desired, have cleared a distance
three times as great as that which they traversed.  Their flight
was nearly 30,000 feet, and the time it occupied was from twenty
to twenty-five minutes.  This machine was 70 feet high, 46 feet
in diameter, and had a capacity of 60,000 cubic feet."

It is reported that Franklin, more illustrious in his humility
than the most brilliant among the lords of the court, when
consulted respecting the possible use of balloons, answered
simply, "C'est l'enfant qui vient de naitre?"



Chapter X.  The Second Arial Voyage.

(1st December 1783.--Charles and Robert at the Tuileries.)

The first ascent of Roziers and Arlandes was a feat of hardihood
almost unique.  The men's courage was, so to speak, their only
guarantee.  Thanks to the balloon, however, they accomplished one
of the most extraordinary enterprises ever achieved by our race.

On the day after the experiment of the Champ de Mars (27th of
August), Professor Charles--who had already acquired celebrity at
the Louvre, by his scientific collection and by his rank as  an
official instructor--and the Brothers Robert, mechanicians, were
engaged in the construction of a balloon, to be inflated  with
hydrogen gas, and destined to carry a car and one or two
passengers.  For this ascent Charles may be said to have created
all at once the art of aerostation as now practiced, for he
brought it at one bound to such perfection that since his day
scarcely any advance has been made upon his arrangements.  His
simple yet complete invention was that of the valve which gives
escape to the hydrogen gas, and thus renders the descent of the
balloon gentle  and gradual; the car that carries the travellers;
the ballast of sand, by which the ascent is regulated and the
fall is moderated; the coating of caoutchouc, by means of which
the material of the balloon is rendered airtight and prevents
loss of gas; and, finally, the use of the barometer, which marks
at every instant, by the elevation or the depression of the
mercury, the position in which the aeronaut finds himself in the
atmosphere.  Charles created all the contrivances, or, in other
words, all the ingenious precautions which make up the art of
aerostation.

On the 26th of November, the balloon, fitted with its network,
and having the car attached to it, was sent away from the hall of
the Tuileries, where it had been exhibited.  The ascent was fixed
for the 1st of December, 1783, a memorable day for the Parisians.

At noon upon that day, the subscribers, who had paid four louis
for their seats, took their places within the enclosure outside
the circle, in which stood the casks employed for making the gas.
The humbler subscribers, at three francs a-head, occupied the
rest of the garden.  The number of spectators, as we read
underneath the numerous coloured prints which represent this
spectacle, was 600,000; but though, without doubt, the gardens of
the Tuileries are very large, it is probable this figure is a
considerable overstatement, for this number would have been
three-fourths of the whole population of Paris.

The roofs and windows of the houses were crowded, whilst the Pont
Royal and the square of Louis XV. were covered by an immense
multitude.  About mid-day a rumour was spread to the effect that
the king forbade the ascent.  Charles ran to the Chief Minister
of State, and plainly told him that his life was the king's, but
his honour was his own: his word was pledged to the country and
he would ascend.  Taking this high ground, the bold professor
gained an unwilling permission to carry out his undertaking.

A little afterwards the sound of cannon was heard.  This was the
signal which announced the last arrangements and thus dissipated
all doubt as to the rising of the balloon, There had during the
day been considerable disturbance among the crowd, between the
partisans of Charles and Montgolfier; each party extolled its
hero, and did everything possible to detract from the merits of
the rival inventor.  But whatever ill-feeling might have existed
was swept away by Professor Charles with a compliment.  When he
was ready to ascend, he walked up to Montgolfier, and, with the
true instinct of French politeness, presented him with a little
balloon, saying at the same time--

"It is for you, monsieur, to show us the way to the skies."

The exquisite taste and delicacy of this incident touched the
bystanders as with an electric shock, and the place at once rang
out with the most genuine and hearty applause The little balloon
thrown up by Montgolfier sped away to the north-east, its
beautiful emerald colour showing to fine effect in the sun.

From this point let us follow the narrative of Professor Charles
himself.

"The balloon," he says, "which escaped from the hands of M.
Montgolfier, rose into the air, and seemed to carry with it the
testimony of friendship and regard between that gentleman and
myself, while acclamations followed it.  Meanwhile, we hastily
prepared for departure.  The stormy weather did not permit us to
have at our command all the arrangements which we had
contemplated the previous evening; to do so would have detained
us too long upon the earth.  After the balloon and the car were
in equilibrium, we threw over 19 lbs. of ballast, and we rose in
the midst of silence, arising from the emotion and surprise felt
on all sides.

"Nothing will ever equal that moment of joyous excitement which
filled my whole being when I felt myself flying away from the
earth.  It was not mere pleasure; it was perfect bliss.  Escaped
from the frightful torments of persecution and of calumny, I felt
that I was answering all in rising above all.

"To this sentiment succeeded one more lively still--the
admiration of the majestic spectacle that spread itself out
before us.  On whatever side we looked, all was glorious; a
cloudless sky above, a most delicious view around.  'Oh, my
friend,' said I to M. Robert, 'how great is our good fortune!  I
care not what may be the condition of the earth; it is the sky
that is for me now.  What serenity! what a ravishing scene!
Would that I could bring here the last of our detractors, and say
to the wretch, Behold what you would have lost had you arrested
the progress of science.'

"Whilst we were rising with a progressively increasing speed, we
waved our bannerets in token of our cheerfulness, and in order to
give confidence to those below who took an interest in our fate.
M. Robert made an inventory of our stores; our friends had
stocked our commissariat as for a long voyage--champagne and
other wines, garments of fur and other articles of clothing.

"'Good,' I said; 'throw that out of the window.' He took a
blanket and launched it into the air, through which it floated
down slowly, and fell upon the dome of l'Assomption.

"When the barometer had fallen 26 inches, we ceased to ascend. We
were up at an elevation of 1,800 feet.  This was the height to
which I had promised myself to ascend; and, in fact, from this
moment to the time when we disappeared from the eyes of our
friends, we always kept a horizontal course, the barometer
registering 26 inches to 26 inches 8 lines.

"We required to throw over ballast in proportion as the almost
insensible escape of the hydrogen gas caused us to descend, in
order to remain as nearly as possible at the same elevation.  If
circumstances had permitted us to measure the amount of ballast
we threw over, our course would have been almost absolutely
horizontal.

"After remaining for a few moments stationary, our car I changed
its course, and we were carried on at the will of the wind.  Soon
we passed the Seine, between St. Ouen and Asnieres.  We traversed
the river a second time, leaving Argenteuil upon the left.  We
passed Sannois, Franconville, Eau-Bonne, St. Leu-Taverny,
Villiers, and finally, Nesles.  This was about twenty-seven miles
from Paris, and we had I reached this distance in two hours,
although there was so little wind that the air scarcely stirred.

"During the whole course of this delightful voyage, not the
slightest apprehension for our fate or that of our machine
entered my head for a moment.  The globe did not suffer any
alteration beyond the successive changes of dilatation and
compression, which enabled us to mount and descend at will.  The
thermometer was, during more than an hour, between ten and twelve
degrees above zero; this being to some extent accounted for by
the fact that the interior of the car was warmed by the rays of
the sun.

"At the end of fifty-six minutes, we heard the report of the
cannon which informed us that we had, at that moment, disappeared
from view at Paris.  We rejoiced that we had escaped, as we were
no longer obliged to observe a horizontal course, and to regulate
the balloon for that purpose.

"We gave ourselves up to the contemplation of the views which the
immense stretch of country beneath us presented.  From that time,
though we had no opportunity of conversing with the inhabitants,
we saw them running after us from all parts; we heard their
cries, their exclamations of solicitude, and knew their alarm and
admiration.

"We cried, 'Vive le Roi!' and the people responded.  We heard,
very distinctly--'My good friends, have you no fear?  Are you not
sick?  How beautiful it is!  Heaven preserve you!  Adieu, my
friends.'

"I was touched to tears by this tender and true interest which
our appearance had called forth.

"We continued to wave our flags without cessation, and we
perceived that these signals greatly increased the cheerfulness
and calmed the solicitude of the people below.  Often we
descended sufficiently low to hear what they shouted to us.  They
asked us where we came from, and at what hour we had started.

"We threw over successively frock-coats, muffs, and habits.
Sailing on above the Ile d'Adam, after having admired the
splendid view, we made signals with our flags, and demanded news
of the Prince of Conti.  One cried up to us, in a very powerful
voice, that he was at Paris, and that he was ill.  We regretted
missing such an opportunity of paying our respects, for we could
have descended into the prince's gardens, if we had wished, but
we preferred to pursue our course, and we re-ascended.  Finally,
we arrived at the plain of Nesles.

"We saw from the distance groups of peasants, who ran on before
us across the fields.  'Let us go,' I said, and we descended
towards a vast meadow.

"Some shrubs and trees stood round its border.  Our car advanced
majestically in a long inclined plane.  On arriving near the
trees, I feared that their branches might damage the car, so I
threw over two pounds of ballast, and we rose again.  We ran
along more than 120 feet, at a distance of one or two feet from
the ground, and had the appearance of travelling in a sledge.
The peasants ran after us without being able to catch us, like
children pursuing a butterfly in the fields.

"Finally, we stopped, and were instantly surrounded.  Nothing
could equal the simple and tender regard of the country people,
their admiration, and their lively emotion.

"I called at once for the cures and the magistrates.  They came
round me on all sides: there was quite a fete on the spot.  I
prepared a short report, which the cures and the syndics signed.
Then arrived a company of horsemen at a gallop.  These were the
Duke of Chartres, the Duke of Fitzjames, and M. Farrer.  By a
very singular chance, we had come down close by the hunting-lodge
of the latter.  He leaped from his horse and threw himself into
my arms, crying, 'Monsieur Charles, I was first!'

"Charles adds that they were covered with the caresses of the
prince, who embraced both of them.  He briefly narrated to the
Duke of Chartres some incidents of the voyage.

"'But this is not all, monseigneur.  I am going away again,'
added Charles.

"'What! Going away!' exclaimed the duke.

"'Monseigneur, you will see.  When do you wish me to come back
again?'  I said.

"'In half an hour.'

"'Very well: be it so.  In half an hour I shall be with you
again.'

"M. Robert descended from the car, and I was alone in the
balloon.

"I said to the duke, 'Monseigneur, I go.'  I said to the peasants
who held down the balloon, 'My friends, go away, all of you, from
the car at the moment I give the signal.' I then rose like a
bird, and in ten minutes I was more than 3,000 feet above the
ground.  I no longer perceived terrestrial objects; I only saw
the great masses of nature.

"In going away, Charles had taken his precautions against the
possible explosion of the balloon, and made himself ready to make
certain observations.  In order to observe the barometer and the
thermometer, placed at different extremities of the car, without
endangering the equilibrium, he sat down in the middle, a watch
and paper in his left hand, a pen and the cord of the
safety-valve in his right.

"I waited for what should happen," continues he.  "The balloon,
which was quite flabby and soft when I ascended, was now taut,
and fully distended.  Soon the hydrogen gas began to escape in
considerable quantities by the neck of the balloon, and then,
from time to time, I pulled open the valve to give it two issues
at once; and I continued thus to mount upwards, all the time
losing the inflammable air, which, rushing past me from the neck
of the balloon, felt like a warm cloud.

"I passed in ten minutes from the temperature of spring to that
of winter; the cold was keen and dry, but not insupportable.  I
examined all my sensations calmly; _I_ COULD  HEAR MYSELF LIVE,
so to speak, and I am certain that at first I experienced nothing
disagreeable in this sudden passage from one temperature to
another.

"When the barometer ceased to move I noted very exactly eighteen
inches ten lines.  This observation is perfectly accurate The
mercury did not suffer any sensible movement.

"At the end of some minutes the cold caught my fingers; I could
hardly hold the pen, but I no longer had need to do so.  I was
stationary, or rather moved only in a horizontal direction.

"I raised myself in the middle of the car, and abandoned myself
to the spectacle before me.  At my departure from the meadow the
sun had sunk to the people of the valleys; soon he shone for me
alone, and came again to pour his rays upon the balloon and the
car.  I was the only creature in the horizon in sunshine--all the
rest of nature was in shade.  Ere long, however, the sun
disappeared, and thus I had the pleasure of seeing him set twice
in the same day.  I contemplated for some moments the mists and
vapours that rose from the valley and the rivers The clouds
seemed to come forth from the earth, and to accumulate the one
upon the other.  Their colour was a monotonous grey--a natural
effect, for there was no light save that of the moon.

"I observed that I had tacked round twice, and I felt currents
which called me to my senses.  I found with surprise the effect
of the wind, and saw the cloth of my flag: extended horizontally.

"In the midst of the inexpressible pleasure of this state of
ecstatic contemplation, I was recalled to myself by a most
extraordinary pain which I felt in the interior of the ears and
in the maxillary glands.  This I attributed to the dilation of
the air contained in the cellular tissue of the organ as much as
to the cold outside.  I was in my vest, with my head uncovered.
I immediately covered my head with a bonnet of wool which was at
my feet, but the pain only disappeared with my descent to the
ground.

"It was now seven or eight minutes since I had arrived at this
elevation, and I now commenced to descend.  I remembered the
promise I had made to the Duke of Chartres, to return in half an
hour.  I quickened my descent by opening the valve from time to
time.  Soon the balloon, empty now to one half, presented the
appearance of a hemisphere.

"Arrived at twenty-three fathoms from the earth, I suddenly threw
over two or three pounds of ballast, which arrested my descent,
and which I had carefully kept for this purpose.  I then slowly
descended upon the ground, which I had, so to speak, chosen."

Such is the narrative of the second aerial voyage.  After such a
memorable ascent one is astonished to learn that Professor
Charles never repeated his experiment.  It has been said that, in
descending from his car, he had vowed that he would never again
expose himself to such perils, so strong had been the alarm he
felt when the peasants ceasing to hold him down he shot up into
the sky with the rapidity of an arrow.  But after him a thousand
others have followed the daring example he set.  With this ascent
the memorable year 1783 closed, and the seed which had been sown
soon began to be productive.



PART II.

The History of Aerostation from the Year 1783.

Chapter I.  The Open Route--Travels and Travellers--Great
Increase in the Number of Air Voyages--Lyons, Ascent of "Le
Flesselles--Milan, Ascent of Adriani--Flight of a Balloon from
London--Lost Balloons in the Chief Towns of Europe

From the year 1783, in which aerostation had its birth, and in
which it was carried to a degree of perfection, beside which the
progress of aeronauts in our days seems small, a new route was
opened up for travellers.  The science of Montgolfier, the
practical art of Professor Charles, and the courage of Roziers,
subdued the scepticism of those who had not yet given in their
adhesion to the possible value of the great discovery, and
throughout the whole of France a feverish degree of enthusiasm in
the art manifested itself Aerial excursions now became quite
fashionable.  Let it be understood that we do not here refer to
ascents in fixed balloons, that is, in balloons which were
attached to the earth by means of ropes more or less long.

M. Biot narrates that, in his young days, when aeronautic ascents
were less known than they are in these times, there was in the
plain of Grenelle, at the mill of Javelle, an establishment where
balloons were constantly maintained for the accommodation of
amateurs of both sexes who wished to make ascents in what were
called "ballons captifs," or balloons anchored, so to speak, to
the earth by means of long ropes They were for a considerable
time the rage of fashionable society, and it is not recorded that
any accidents resulted from the practice.  Of course it may be
easily understood with these safe balloons the adventurous
aeronauts never ascended to any great height.  The reader will
find this subject treated under the chapter of military
aerostation.

We are at present specially engaged with the narrative of the
first attempts in aerostation--the first experiments in the new
discovery.  We have followed with interest the exciting details
of the first adventurous ascents, in which the genius of man
first essayed the unexplored paths of the heavens.  Yet a
continued record of aerial voyages would not be of the same
interest.  The results of subsequent expeditions, and the
impressions of subsequent aeronauts are the same as those already
described, or differ from them only in minor points.  No
important advance is recorded in the art.  We shall therefore
endeavour not to confine ourselves to the narrative of a dry and
monotonous chronology, but to select from the number of ascents
that have taken place within the last eighty years, only those
whose special character renders them worthy of more detailed and
severe investigation.

In order to give an idea of the rapid multiplication of
aeronautic experiments, it will suffice to state that the only
aeronauts of 1783 are Roziers, the Marquis d'Arlandes, Professor
Charles, his collaborateur the younger Robert, and a carpenter,
named Wilcox, who made ascents at Philadelphia and London.

A number of balloons were remarkable for the beauty and elegance
which we have already spoken of.  Among the most beautiful we may
mention the "Flesselles" balloon and Bagnolet's balloon.

Of the ascents which immediately succeeded those that have been
treated in the first part of our volume, and which are the most
memorable in the early annals of aerostation, that of the 17th of
January, 1784, is remarkable.  It took place at Lyons.  Seven
persons went into the car on this occasion--Joseph Montgolfier,
Roziers, the Comte de Laurencin, the Comte de Dampierre, the
Prince Charles de Ligne, the Comte de Laporte d'Anglifort, and
Fontaine, who threw himself into the car when it had already
begun to move.

A most minute account of this experiment is given in a letter of
Mathon de la Cour, director of the Academy of Sciences at
Lyons:--"After the experiments of the Champ de Mars and
Versailles had become known," he says, "the citizens of this town
proposed to repeat them" and a subscription was opened for this
purpose.  On the arrival of the elder Montgolfier, about the end
of September, M. de Flesselles, our director, always zealous in
promoting whatever might be for the welfare of the province and
the advancement of science and art, persuaded him to organise the
subscription.  The aim of the experiment proposed by Montgolfier
was not the ascent of any human being in the balloon.  The
prospectus only announced that a balloon of a much larger size
than any that had been made would ascend--that it would rise to
several thousand feet, and that, including the animals that it
was proposed it should carry, it would weigh 8,000 lbs.  The
subscription was fixed at L12, and the number of subscribers was
360."

It was on these conditions that Montgolfier commenced his balloon
of 126 feet high and 100 feet in diameter, made of a double
envelope of cotton cloth, with a lining of paper between.  A
strength and consistency was given to the structure by means of
ribbons and cords.

The work was nearly finished when Roziers went up in his
fire-balloon from La Muette.  Immediately the Comte de Laurencin
pressed Montgolfier to allow him to go up in the new machine.
Montgolfier was only too glad of the opportunity--refused up to
this time by the king--of going up himself.  From thirty to forty
people made application to go with the aeronauts; and on the 26th
of December, 1678, Roziers, the Comte de Dampierre, and the Comte
de Laporte, arrived in Lyons with the same intention.  Prince
Charles also arrived; and as his father had taken one hundred
subscriptions, his claim to go up could not be refused.

But while the public papers were full of ascents at Avignon,
Marseilles, and Paris, it is impossible to describe the vexation
of Roziers, when he discovered that Montgolfier's new balloon was
not intended to carry passengers, and had not been, from the
first, constructed with that view.  He suggested a number of
alterations, which Montgolfier adopted at once.

On the 7th of January, 1784, all the pieces of which the balloon
was composed were carried out to the field called Les Brotteaux,
outside the town, from which the ascent was to be made.  This
event was announced to take place on the 10th and at five o'clock
on the morning of that day; but unexpected delays occurred, and
in the necessary operations the covering was torn in many places.

On the 15th the balloon was inflated in seventeen minutes, and
the gallery was attached in an hour--the fire from which the
heated air was obtained requiring to be fed at the rate of 5 lbs.
of alder-wood per minute; but the preparations had occupied so
much time, that it was found, when everything was complete, that
the afternoon was too far advanced for the ascent to be made.
This machine was destined to suffer from endless misfortunes.  It
took fire while being inflated, and, several days afterwards, it
was damaged by snow and rain.  Put nothing discouraged Roziers
and his companions.  Places had been arranged in the gallery for
six persons.  After the balloon was at last inflated, Prince
Charles and the Comes de Laurencin, Dampierre, and Laporte threw
themselves into the gallery.  They were all armed, and were
determined not to quit their places to whoever might come.
Roziers, who wished at the last to enjoy a high ascent, proposed
to reduce the number to three, and to draw lots for the purpose.
But the gentlemen would not descend.  The debate became animated.
The four voyagers cried to cut the ropes.  The director of the
Academy, to whom application was made in this emergency, admiring
the resolution and the courage of the four gentlemen, wished to
satisfy them in their desire.  Accordingly the ropes were cut;
but at that moment M. Montgolfier and Roziers threw themselves
into the gallery.  At the same time a certain M. Fontaine, who
had had much to do in the construction of the machine, threw
himself in, although it had not previously been arranged that he
should be of the party.  His boldness in jumping in was pardoned,
on the ground of his services and his zeal.

In going away the machine turned to the south-west, and bent a
little.  A rope which dragged along the ground seemed to retard
its ascent; but some intelligent person having cut this with a
hatchet, it began to right itself and ascend.  At a certain
height it turned to the north east.  The wind was feeble, and the
progress was slow, but the imposing effect was indescribable.
The immense machine rose into the air as by some effect of magic.
Nearly 100,000 spectators were present, and they were greatly
excited at the view.  They clapped their hands and stretched
their arms towards the sky; women fainted away, or (for some
reasons best known to themselves) found relief for their
excitement in tears; while the men, uttering cries of joy, waved
their handkerchiefs, and threw their hats into the air.

The form of the machine was that of a globe, rising from a
reversed and truncated cone, to which the gallery was attached.
The upper part was white, the lower part grey; and the cone was
composed of strips of stuff of different colours.  On the sides
of the balloon were two paintings, one of which represented
History, the other Fame.  The flag bore the arms of the director
of the Academy, and above it were inscribed the words "Le
Flesselles."

The voyagers observed that they did not consume a fourth of the
quantity of combustibles after they had risen into the air, which
they consumed when attached to the earth.  They were in the
gayest humour, and they calculated that the fuel they had would
keep them floating till late in the evening.  Unfortunately,
however, after throwing more wood on the fire, in order to get up
to a greater altitude, it was discovered that a rent had been
made in the covering, caused by the fire by which the balloon had
been damaged two or three days previously.  The rent was four
feet in length; and as the heated air escaped very rapidly by it,
the balloon fell, after having sailed above the earth for barely
fifteen minutes.

The descent only occupied two or three minutes, and yet the shock
was supportable.  It was observed that as soon as the machine had
touched the earth all the cloth became unfolded in a few seconds,
which seemed to confirm the opinion of Montgolfier, who believed
that electricity had much to do in the ascent of balloons.  The
voyagers were got out of the balloon without accident, and were
greeted with the most enthusiastic applause.

On the day of the ascent, the opera of "Iphigenia in Aulis" was
given, and the theatre was thronged by a vast assemblage,
attracted thither in the hope of seeing the illustrious
experimentalists.  The curtain had risen when M. and Madame de
Flesselles entered their box, accompanied by Montgolfier and
Roziers.  At sight of them the enthusiasm of the house rose to
fever pitch.  The other voyagers also entered, and were greeted
with the same demonstrations. Cries arose from the pit to begin
the opera again, in honour of the visitors.  The curtain then
fell, and when it again rose, after a few moments, the actor who
filled the role of Agamemnon advanced with crowns, which he
handed to Madame de Flesselles, who distributed them to the
aeronauts.  Roziers placed the crown that had been given to him
upon Montgolfier's head.

When the actress who played the part of Clytemnestra, sung the
passage beginning--

"I love to see these flattering honours paid,"

the audience at once applied her song to the circumstances, and
re-demanded it, which request the actress complied with,
addressing herself to the box in which the distinguished visitors
sat.  The demonstrations of admiration were continued after the
opera was over; and during the whole of the night the gentlemen
of the balloon ascent were serenaded.

Two days afterwards, Roziers having appeared at a ball, received
further proofs of admiration and honours; and when, on the 22nd
of January, he departed for Dijon on his return to Paris, he was
accompanied as in a triumph by a numerous cavalcade of the most
distinguished young men of the city.

There was, however, at Paris, much discontent with the ascent of
"Le Flesselles;" and the Journal de Paris de Paris, which notices
so enthusiastically the other ascents of that epoch, speaks
slightingly of that at Lyons.

The next great ascent took place at Milan, on the 25th of
February, 1784, under the direction of the Chevalier Paul
Andriani, who had a balloon constructed by the Brothers Gerli, at
his own expense. We read that this balloon was 66 feet in
diameter, and that the envelope was composed of cloth, lined in
the interior with fine paper.

The balloon was not in all respects constructed like that which
rose at Lyons.  The grating which supported the fire that kept up
the supply of hot air was placed at the mouth of the opening.  It
was made of copper, was six feet in diameter, and was secured by
a number of transverse beams of wood.  M. Andriani thought it
best to place his fire--contrary to general usage--a little way
above the mouth of the opening, and he found out that the
activity of the fire was in proportion with that of the air which
entered and fed it.

In place of making use of a gallery like that employed by
Montgolfier, as much to manage the fire as to carry the traveller
and the fuel, he substituted a wide basket, suspended by cords to
the edge of the opening of the balloon, at such a distance that
fuel could be thrown on with the hand without being
inconvenienced by the heat.

Everything being in readiness, the machine was carried to
Moncuco, the splendid domain of Andriani, where the first
experiments were made; for this gentlemen knew that as the
populace are impatient, they are also often un-reasonable, and
jump to the hastiest and most inconsiderate conclusion when, in
witnessing scientific experiments, any of the arrangements happen
to be imperfect, and the results in any respect prove
unsuccessful.

Andriani did not deceive himself, for, sure enough, his first
attempt did not come up to expectation.  The reasons for this
failure were the too great quantity of air which the fire drew
in, and the unsuitable character of the fuel used.

On the 25th of February, 1784, a second attempt was made.  The
fire was lighted under the machine, at first with dry birch-wood.
and afterwards with a bituminous composition, ingeniously
concocted by one of the Brothers Gerli.  In less than four
minutes the balloon was completely inflated, and the men employed
to hold it down with ropes perceived that it was on the point of
rising. The aeronauts then gave the order to let go.  Scarcely
was the balloon let off, when it gently rose a short distance,
and then flew in a horizontal direction towards a palace in the
neighbourhood. In order that the structure should not be
destroyed on the walls and the roof of the palace, the voyagers
heaped on the fuel, and the spectators, who had gathered together
from the surrounding villages, then saw this strange vessel of
the air rising with rapidity to a surprising height.  Such a
phenomenon was so astonishing, that those who beheld it could
hardly believe their own eyes; and when the balloon disappeared
from view, the delight they had manifested was dashed with fear
for the fate of the bold aeronauts.  The latter, seeing that the
balloon was driving through the air towards a range of rocky
hills in the neighbourhood, and perceiving, on the other hand,
that their stock of combustibles was nearly exhausted, judged it
prudent to descend.  They diminished their fire, and came
gradually down, warning the multitude below of their intention by
means of a speaking-trumpet.

In the course of the descent the balloon alighted upon a large
tree, to the great peril of the travellers; but as soon as the
fire was increased it again mounted and got clear from the
branches while the people below, grasping the cords that were
hung out to them, guided the machine to the spot which the
voyagers indicated. To descend to terra firma was then a
comparatively easy matter, and it was safely accomplished.  The
fire, which in the case of the French balloons had dried,
calcined, and almost consumed the upper part of the balloon, had
no evil effect upon that of Andriani, which came down looking as
fresh as if it had never been used.

The new idea had now passed the frontiers of France, in which it
was originally conceived, and among the other nations, as at
first in France, the power of the inflated balloon came to be
tested everywhere by the construction of small toy globes.

It was just about five months after the first experiment at
Annonay--viz., on the 25th of November, 1783--that the first
balloon ascended in London.  We are informed, in the History of
Aerostation by Tiberius Cavallo, that an Italian, Count
Zambeccari, who was staying in the English capital, made a
balloon of silk, covered with a varnish of oil.  Its diameter was
ten feet, and its weight eleven pounds.  It was gilded for the
double purpose of enhancing its appearance and preventing the
escape of air.  After having been exposed to public inspection
for several days, it was filled three parts full of hydrogen gas,
a tin bottle was suspended from it, containing an address to
whoever might find it when it should fall, and it was let off
from the Artillery Ground, in presence of a vast assembly.

On the 11th of December, 1783, a little balloon, made of
gold-beaters' skin, was let off publicly at Turin.  This was an
experiment similar to that which had been tried at Paris in
September.  The balloon was seen to penetrate the clouds, then to
mount still higher, and finally to disappear entirely in five
minutes fifty-four seconds from the time when it was set free.

It was natural, after the experiments made long before with
electric paper kites, to employ the balloon in the investigation
of the electric conditions of the atmosphere.  The first to use
it for this purpose was the Abbe Berthelon de Montpellier.  He
sent up a number of balloons, to which he had attached pieces of
metal, long and narrow, and terminating in a cylinder of glass,
or other substance suitable for the purpose of isolation, and he
obtained sufficient electricity by these means to demonstrate the
phenomena of attraction and repulsion, as well as electric
sparks.

Cavallo mentions an accident which took place in England about
this time, and which served as a warning to all who had to do
with balloons filled with hydrogen gas.  A balloon thus inflated
had been sent up at Hopton, near Matlock, and was found by two
men near Cheadle, in Staffordshire.  These ingenious persons
carried it within doors, and having wished to fully inflate
it--half the gas having by this time escaped--they applied a pair
of bellows to its mouth.  By this means they only forced out the
volume of the hydrogen gas that was left; and this gas, coming in
contact with a candle that had been placed too near, exploded.
The report was louder than that of a cannon, and so powerful was
the shock that the men were thrown down, the glass blown out of
the windows, and the house otherwise damaged.  The men suffered
severely, their hair, beards, and eyebrows being completely burnt
away, and their faces severely scorched.

At Grenoble, in Dauphine, De Baron let off a balloon on the 13th
of January, 1784.  It rose, and at first took a northern
direction; but, having encountered a current of air, it was
carried away in a south-easterly direction, and after flying a
distance of three-quarters of a mile, it fell, having traversed
this distance in fifteen minutes.

A society, under the presidency of the Abbe de Mably, having
constructed a balloon thirty-seven feet high and twenty feet in
diameter, sent it off from the court of the Castle of Pisancon,
near Romano, on the same day, the 13th of February.  At first it
was carried to the south by a strong north wind, but after it had
risen to 1,000 feet above the surface, its course was changed
towards the north.  It was calculated that, in less than five
minutes, this balloon rose to the height of 6,000 feet.

On the 16th of the same month the Count d'Albon threw off from
his gardens at Franconville a balloon inflated with gas, and made
of silk, rendered air-tight by a solution of gum-arabic.  It was
oblong, and measured twenty-five feet in height, and seventeen
feet in diameter.  To this balloon a cage, containing two
guinea-pigs and a rabbit, was suspended.  The cords were cut, and
the inflated globe rose to an enormous height with the greatest
rapidity.  Five days afterwards it was found at the distance of
eighteen miles, and it is remarkable that, in spite of the cold
of the season, and particularly of the elevated region through
which the balloon had been passing, the animals were not only
living, but in good condition.

On the 3rd of February, 1784, the Marquis de Bullion sent up a
paper balloon, of about fifteen feet in diameter.  A flat sponge,
about a foot square, placed in a tin dish and drenched with a
pint of spirits of wine, was the only apparatus made use of to
create a supply of heated air.  It rose at Paris, and three hours
afterwards it was found near Basville, about thirty miles from
the capital.

On the 15th of the same month Cellard de Chastelais sent up a
paper balloon.  Heated air was supplied on this occasion by a
paper roll, enclosing a sponge, and soaked in oil, spirits of
wine, and grease.  A cage, which contained a cat, was attached to
this air globe.  In thirty-five minutes it had mounted so high
that it looked but like the smallest star, and in two hours it
had flown a distance of forty-six miles from the place where it
was thrown off.  The cat was dead, but it was not discovered from
what cause.

The first balloon that traversed the English channel was sent off
at Sandwich, in Kent, on the 22nd of February, 1784.  It was five
feet in diameter, and was inflated with hydrogen gas.  It rose
rapidly, and was carried toward France by a north-west wind.  Two
hours and a half after it had been let off it was found in a
field about nine miles from Lille.  The balloon carried a letter,
instructing the finder of the balloon to communicate with William
Boys, Esq., Sandwich, and to state where and at what time it was
found.  This request was complied with.

On the 19th of February a similar balloon, five feet in diameter,
was sent up from Queen's College, Oxford.  It was spherical, and
was made of Persian silk, coated with varnish.  It was the first
balloon sent up from that city.

De Saussure makes mention, in a letter dated from Geneva, the
26th of March, 1784, of certain experiments made in that town
with the electricity of the atmosphere by means of fixed
balloons--i.e., balloons attached to the earth by ropes, which
gave forth sparks and positive electricity.

Mention is also made of a certain M. Argand, of Geneva, who had
the honour of making balloon experiments at Windsor in the
presence of King George III., Queen Charlotte, and the royal
family.  About this time (1784) balloons became "the fashion,"
and frequent instances occur of their being raised by day and
night, by means of spirit-lamps, to the great delight of
multitudes of spectators.

A letter from Watt to Dr. Lind, of Windsor, dated from
Birmingham, 25th December, 1784, narrates an experiment made the
summer preceding with a balloon inflated with hydrogen.  The
balloon was made of fine paper covered with a varnish of oil and
filled two-thirds with hydrogen gas, and one-third common air.
To the neck of the balloon was attached a sort of squib two feet
long, the fuse of which was ignited when the balloon was
inflated.  The night was calm and dark, and a great multitude was
assembled to witness the ascent, which was accomplished with a
success that gave delight to all; for, at the end of six minutes
the fuse communicated with the squib, and the explosion was like
the sound of thunder.  The men who saw it from a distance, but
were not present at its ascent, took it for a meteor.  "Our
intention," says Watt, "was, if possible, to discover whether the
reverberating sound of thunder was due to echoes or to successive
explosions. The sound occasioned by the detonation of the
hydrogen gas of the balloon in this experiment, does not enable
us to form a definite judgment; all that we can do is to refer to
those who were near the balloon, and-who affirm that the sound
was like that of thunder."



Chapter II.  Experiments and Studies--Blanchard at Paris--Guyton
de Morveau at Dijon.

The most popular name in aerostation during the Revolution and
the Consulate in France is, without doubt, that of Blanchard.  We
have already referred to him in the chapter which treats of
experiments made prior to the discovery of Montgolfier, and we
now have to speak of his famous ascent from the Champ de Mars, on
the 2nd of March 1784, and of the ascents which followed.

We have seen that he constructed a sort of flying boat, a machine
furnished with oars and rigging, with which he managed to sustain
himself some moments in the air at the height of eighty feet.
This curious machine was exhibited in 1782 in the gardens of the
great hotel of the Rue Taranne.  But a little time afterwards
Montgolfier's discoveries quite altered the conditions under
which the aerostatic art was to be pursued.  It had no sooner
become known than it became public property.  The idea was too
simple in its grandeur, and was of too easy a kind not to call up
a host of imitators.  Of these Blanchard was one of the first;
but this mechanician was anxious to incorporate his own invention
with that of Montgolfier, and he arranged that on the 2nd of
March, 1784, he should make an ascent in what he still called his
"flying vessel," which he furnished with four wings.

Blanchard and his companion, Pesch, a Benedictine priest, were
prevented from going up in the balloon, as represented in our
illustration, which was drawn before the event it was intended to
commemorate.  A certain Dupont de Chambon persisted in
accompanying the voyagers.  Pushed back by them, he drew his
sword, leaped into the car or boat, wounded Blanchard, cut the
rigging, and broke the oars or wings.  The aeronaut was
consequently compelled to have his machine partly re-fitted in
great haste, and in the course of a few hours he made the ascent
alone in the usual way.  Blanchard should have known the
uselessness of oars, though he did not abandon their employment
in subsequent ascents.  The Brothers Montgolfier had dreamed of
the employment of oars as a means of guidance, but had ultimately
rejected the idea.  Joseph wrote to his brother Etienne, about
the end of the year 1783:

"For my sake, my good friend, reflect; calculate well before you
employ oars.  Oars must either be great or small; if great, they
will be heavy; if small, it will be necessary to move them with
great rapidity.  I know no sufficient means of guidance, except
in the knowledge of the different currents of air, of which it is
necessary to make a study; and these are generally regulated by
the elevation." The two brothers often recurred to this idea.

The pictures of the first ascent of Blanchard from the Champ de
Mars on the 2nd of March, 1784, in the presence of a vast
multitude, show us the oars and the mechanism of his
flying-machine fitted to a balloon.  The design which we here
give seems to us deserving of being considered only as one of the
caricatures of the time, especially when we look at the personage
dressed in the fool's head-gear, who sits behind and accompanies
the triumphant ascent of the aeronaut with music.

It was not with this apparatus that Blanchard effected his
ascent, for we have seen that the gearing of his vessel was
broken by the infuriated Dupont de Chambon.  Yet the aeronaut
pretends to have been, to some extent, assisted by his mechanical
contrivances. The following is his narrative:--

"I rose to a certain height over Plassy, and perceiving Villette,
which I did not despair of reaching in spite of the misfortune
that had happened to me, I attached a rope of my rigging to my
leg, not being able to make use of my left hand, which I had
wrapped in my handkerchief on account of the sword-wound it had
received.  I fixed up a piece of cloth, and thus made a sort of
sail with which I hugged the wind.  But the rays of the sun had
so heated and rarefied the inflammable air that soon I forgot my
rigging in thinking of the terrible danger that threatened me."

Going on to narrate the dangers that beset him, Blanchard
describes a number of most extraordinary experiences, which would
be better worthy of a place here if they were more like the
truth.  His curious narrative is thus brought to a close:--

"Escaped from these impetuous and contrary winds, during which I
had felt a great degree of cold, I mounted perpendicularly.  The
cold became excessive.  Being hungry I ate a morsel of cake.  I
wished to drink, but in searching the car nothing was to be seen
but the debris of bottles and glasses, which my assailant had
left behind him when we were about to depart.  Afterwards all was
so calm that nothing could be seen or heard.  The silence became
appalling, and to add to my alarm I began to lose consciousness.
I now wished to take snuff, but found I had left my box behind
me.  I changed my seat many times; I went from prow to stern, but
the drowsiness only ceased to assail me when I was struck by two
furious winds, which compressed my balloon to such an extent that
its size became sensibly diminished to the eye.  I was not sorry
when I began to descend rapidly upon the river, which at first
seemed to me a white thread, afterwards a ribbon, and then a
piece of cloth.  As I followed the course of the river, the fear
that I should have to descend into it, made me agitate the oars
very rapidly.  I believe that it is to these movements that I owe
my being able to cross the river transversely, and get above dry
land.  When I saw myself upon the plain of Billancourt, I
recognised the bridge of Sevres, and the road to Versailles.  I
was then about as high as the towers above the plain, and I could
hear the words and the cries of joy of the people who were
following me below.  At length I came to a plain about 200 feet
in extent.  The people then assisted me and brought my vessel to
anchor.  Immediately I was surrounded by gentlemen and foot
passengers who had run together from all parts."

This voyage lasted one hour and a quarter.  The most important
incident of it was that the balloon was very nearly burst by the
expansion of the hydrogen gas.  No balloon, as we have already
seen, should be entirely inflated at the beginning of a journey.
Blanchard had a narrow escape from being the victim of his
ignorance of physics, and it is a wonder he was not left to the
mercy of fate in a burst balloon, at several thousand feet above
the earth.

Biot, the savant, who had watched the experiment, declared that
Blanchard did not stir himself, and that the variations of his
course are alone to be attributed to the currents of air that he
encountered.  As he had inscribed upon his flags, his balloons,
and his entrance tickets, from which he realised a considerable
sum, the ambitious legend, Sic itur ad astra, the following
epigram was produced respecting him:--

From the Field of Mars he took his flight:
In a field close by he tumbled;
But our money having taken
He smiled though sadly shaken,
As Sic itur ad astra he mumbled.

What is most important to examine in each of the great aerial
voyages that have been made, is the special character which
distinguishes them from average experiments.  All our great
voyages are rendered special and particular by the ideas of the
men who undertook them, and the aims which they severally meant
to achieve by them.  The early ascents of Montgolfier had for
their aim the establishment of the fact that any body lighter
than the volume of air which it displaces will rise in the
atmosphere; those of Roziers were undertaken to prove that man
can apply this principle for the purpose of making actual aerial
voyages; those of Robertson, Gay-Lussac, &c., were undertaken for
the purpose of ascertaining certain meteorological phenomena;
those of Conte Coutelle applied aerostation to military uses.  A
considerable number were made with the view of organising a
system of aerial navigation analogous to that of the sea-steerage
in a certain direction by means of oars or sails--in a word, to
investigate the possibility of sailing through the air to any
point fixed upon.  It was with this object that the experiments
at Dijon took place, and these were the most serious attempts
down to our times that have been made to steer balloons.

At the middle of the globe of the balloon were placed four oars,
two sails, and a helm and these were under the management of the
voyagers, who sat in the car and worked them by means of ropes.
The car was also furnished with oars.  The report of Guyton de
Morveau to the Academy at Dijon informs us that these different
paraphernalia were not altogether useless.  The following
extracts are from this report:--

"The very strong wind which arose immediately before our
departure, had driven us down to tee ground many times, making us
fear for the safety of our oars, &c., when we resolved to throw
over as much ballast as would enable us to rise against the wind.
The ballast, including from 70 to 80 lbs.  of provisions, was
thrown over, and then we rose so rapidly that all the objects
around were instantly passed and were very soon lost to view.
The swelling form of our balloon told us that the gas inside had
expanded under the heat of the sun and the lessening density of
the surrounding air.  We opened the two valves, but even this
outlet was insufficient, and we had to cut a hole about seven or
eight inches long in the lower part of the balloon, through which
the gas might escape.  At five minutes past five we passed above
a village which we did not know, and here we let fall a bag
filled with bran, and carrying with it a flag and a written
message to the effect that we were all well, and that the
barometer was recording 20 inches 9 lines, and the thermometer
one degree and a half below zero."

Very keen cold attacked the ears, but this was the only
inconvenience experienced, until the voyagers were lost in a sea
of clouds that shut them out from the view of the earth.  The sun
at length began to descend, and they then perceived, by a
slackening in the lower part of the balloon, that it was time for
them to think of returning to the earth.  Judging from the
compass that they were not far from the town of Auxonne, they
resolved to use all their endeavours to reach that place.  The
sailing appliances had been considerably damaged by the rough
weather at starting.  The rigging being disarranged, one of the
oars had got broken, another had become entangled in the rigging,
so that there remained only two of the four oars, and these,
being on the same side, were absolutely useless during the
greatest part of the voyage.  The adventurers, however, assert
that they made them work from eight to nine minutes with the
greatest ease, making use of them to tack to the south-east.

"We hoped then to be able to descend near where we judged Auxonne
to be," the writer continues, "but we lost much gas by the
opening in the balloon, and descended more rapidly than we
expected or wished.  We looked to our small stock of ballast with
anxiety, but there was no need of it, and we came very softly
down upon a slope."

When the aeronauts arrived at Magny-les-Auxonne, the inhabitants
gazed upon them in terror, and two men and three women fell down
on their knees before them.

Here is an extract from the report of the experiment of the 12th
of June, the principal object of which was the attempt to
discover the means of steering in a certain direction:--

"M. de Verley and myself mounted in the balloon," says Guyton de
Morveau, "at seven o'clock.  We rose rapidly and in an almost
perpendicular direction.  The fall of the mercury in the
barometer was scarcely perceptible when the dilation of the
hydrogen gas in the balloon had become considerable.  The globe
swelled out, and a light vapour around the mouth announced to us
that the gas was commencing to escape by the safety-valve.  We
assisted its escape by pulling the valve-string.

"Having reduced the dilation sufficiently for our purposes, we
resolved to attempt the working of the balloon before the whole
town and to turn it from the east to the north.  We saw with
pleasure that our machinery answered By the working of the helm,
the prow of our air-boat was turned in the direction we desired.
The oars, working only on one side, supported the helm, and
altogether we got on as we wished.  We described a curve,
crossing the road from Dijon to Langres.  The mercury had
descended to 24 inches 8 lines, which announced that we were
gradually rising.  We attempted for some time to follow the route
to I Langres, but the wind drove us off our course in spite of
all our efforts.  At nine o'clock our barometer informed us that
we had ascended to the height of 6,000 feet.  M. de Verley took
advantage of this elevation to put some touch wood to a
burning-glass 18 lines in diameter, and the touch wood lighted
immediately."

The aeronauts decided to direct their course for Dijon.  After
re-setting the helm with this intention, they worked their oars,
and proceeded in that direction more than 1,000 feet.  But heat
and fatigue obliged them to suspend their endeavours, and the
current drove them upon Mirebeau, where, throwing out the last of
their ballast and regulating their descent, they came softly down
upon a corn-field.

The adventurers were cordially welcomed by the ecclesiastics and
the magistrates of the place, and after a time they, with their
balloon, were carried back on men's shoulders to Dijon.



Chapter III.  Experiment in Montgolfiers--Roziers and Proust--The
Duke of Chartres--The Comte d'Artois--Voyage of the Abbe Carnus
to Rodez.

The longest course travelled by Montgolfiere balloons, and the
highest elevation reached by them, were achieved by Roziers and
Proust with the Montgolfiere la Marie Antoinefte, at Versailles,
on the 23rd of June, 1784.  Roziers himself has left us a
picturesque narrative of this excursion from Versailles to
Compiegne.  He says:--

"The Montgolfiere rose at first very gently in a diagonal line,
presenting an imposing spectacle.  Like a vessel which has just
been precipitated from the stocks, this astonishing machine hung
balanced in the air for some time, and seemed to have got beyond
human control.  These irregular movements intimidated a portion
of the spectators, who, fearing that, should there be a fall,
their lives would be in danger, scattered away with great speed
from under us.  After having fed my fire, I saluted the people,
who answered me in the most cordial manner.  I had time to remark
some faces, in which there was a mixed expression of apprehension
and joy.  In continuing our upward progress, I perceived that an
upper current of air made the Montgolfiere bend, but on
increasing the heat, we rose above the current.  The size of
objects on the earth now began perceptibly to diminish, which
gave us an idea of the distance at which we were from them.  It
was then that we became visible to Paris and its suburbs, and so
great was our elevation that many in the capital thought we were
directly over their heads.

"When we had arrived among the clouds, the earth disappeared from
our view.  Now a thick mist would envelop us, then a clear space
showed us where we were, and again we rose through a mass of
snow, portions of which stuck to our gallery.  Curious to know
how high we could ascend, we resolved to increase our fire and
raise the heat to the highest degree, by raising our grating, and
holding up our fagots suspended on the ends of our forks.

"Having gained these snowy elevations, and not being able to
mount higher, we wandered about for some time in regions which we
felt were now visited by man for the first time.  Isolated and
separated entirely from nature, we perceived beneath us only
enormous masses of snow, which, reflecting the sunshine, filled
the firmament with a glorious light.  We remained eight minutes
at this elevation, 11,732 feet above the earth.  This situation,
however agreeable it might have been to the painter or the poet,
promised little to the man of science in the way of acquiring
knowledge; and so we determined, eighteen minutes after our
departure, to return through the clouds to the earth.  We had
hardly left this snowy abyss, when the most pleasant scene
succeeded the most dreary one.  The broad plains appeared before
our view in all their magnificence.  No snow, no clouds were now
to be seen, except around the horizon, where a few clouds seemed
to rest on the earth.  We passed in a minute from winter to
spring.  We saw the immeasurable earth covered with towns and
villages, which at that distance appeared only so many isolated
mansions surrounded with gardens.  The rivers which wound about
in all directions seemed no more than rills for the adornment of
these mansions; the largest forests looked mere clumps or groves,
and the meadows and broad fields seemed no more than garden
plots. These marvellous tableaux, which no painter could render,
reminded us of the fairy metamorphoses; only with this
difference, that we were beholding upon a mighty scale what
imagination could only picture in little.  It is in such a
situation that the soul rises to the loftiest height, that the
thoughts are exalted and succeed each other with the greatest
rapidity.  Travelling at this elevation, our fire did not demand
continual attention, and we could easily walk about the gallery.
We were as much at peace upon our lofty balcony as we should have
been upon the terrace of a mansion, enjoying all the pictures
which unrolled themselves before us continually, without
experiencing any of the giddiness which has disturbed so many
persons.  Having broken my fork in my exertions to raise the
balloon, I went to obtain another one.  On my way to get it, I
encountered my companion, M. Proust.  We ought never to have been
on the same side of the balloon, for a capsize and the escape of
all our hydrogen gas might have been the result. As it was, so
well was the machine ballasted, that the only effect of our being
on the one side made the balloon incline a little in that
direction.  The winds, although very considerable, caused us no
uneasiness, and we only knew the swiftness of our progress
through the air by the rapidity with which the villages seemed to
fly away from under our feet; so that it seemed, from the
tranquillity with which we moved, that we were borne along by the
diurnal movement of the globe.  Often we wished to descend, in
order to learn what the people were crying to us the simplicity
of our arrangements enabled us to rise, to descend, to move in
horizontal or oblique lines, as we pleased and as often as we
considered necessary, without altogether landing."

When they came to Luzarche, the delighted aeronauts resolved to
land.  Already the people were testifying their pleasure at
seeing them.  Men came running together from all directions,
while all the animals rushed away with equal precipitation, no
doubt taking the balloon for some wild beast.  Finding that their
course would lead them straight against certain houses, the
aeronauts again increased their fire, and, slightly rising,
escaped the buildings that had been in their way.  Shortly
afterwards they safely landed forty miles from the spot from
which they had started.

It was not only the man of science or the mechanician that
devoted himself to the task of taking possession of the new
empire, but the nobles gave their hands to the aeronauts, and
humbly asked the favour of an ascent.  The king had addressed
letters to the Brothers Montgolfier, and the marvellous invention
had become an affair of state.  The princes of the blood and the
nobles of the court considered it an honour to count among the
number of their friends a celebrated aeronaut.

The Count d'Artois, afterwards Charles X., and the Duke de
Chartres, father of Louis Philippe, made experiments in aerial
navigation. The chemists Alban and Vallet made a magnificent
balloon for the Count, who went up many times in it, with several
persons of all ranks.

Already at St. Cloud, the Duke of Chartres, afterwards Philippe
Egalite, had, on the 15th of July, 1784, made, with the Brothers
Robert, an ascent which put their courage to terrible tests.  The
hydrogen gas balloon was oblong, sixty feet high and forty feet
in diameter, and it had been constructed upon a plan supplied by
Meunier.  In order to obviate the use of the valve, he had placed
inside the balloon a smaller globe, filled with ordinary air.
This was done on the supposition that, when the balloon rose
high, the hydrogen being rarefied would compress the little globe
within, and press out of it a quantity of ordinary air equal to
the amount of its dilation.

At eight o'clock, the Brothers Robert--Collin and Hullin--and the
Duke of Chartres, ascended in presence of an immense multitude.
The nearest ranks kneeled down to allow those behind to have a
view of the departure of the balloon, which disappeared among the
clouds amid the acclamations of the prostrate multitude. The
machine, obedient to the stormy and contrary winds which it met,
turned several times completely round.  The helm, which had been
fitted to the machine, and the two oars, gave such a purchase to
the winds that the voyagers, already surrounded by the clouds,
cut them away.  But the oscillations continued, and the little
globe inside not being suspended with cords, fell down in such an
unfortunate manner as to close up the opening of the large
balloon, by means of which provision had been made for the egress
of the gas now dilated by the heat of the sun, which poured down
its rays, a sudden gust having cleared the space of the clouds.
It was feared that the case of the balloon would crack, and the
whole thing collapse, in spite of the efforts of the aeronauts to
push back the smaller balloon from the opening.  Then the Duke of
Chartres seized one of the flags they carried, and with the
lance-head pierced the balloon in two places.  A rent of about
nine feet was the consequence, and the balloon began to descend
with amazing rapidity.  They would have fallen into a lake had
they not thrown over 60 lbs. of ballast, which caused them to
rise a little, and pass over to the shore, where they got safely
to the earth.

The expedition lasted only a few minutes.  The Duke of Chartres
was rallied by his enemies, who accused him of cowardice; and
Monjoie, his historian, making allusion to the combat of
Ouessant, says that he had given proofs of his cowardice in the
three  elements--earth, air, and water

M. Gray, professor at the seminary of Rodez, presented us some
years ago with the following letter from the Abbe Carnus, upon
the aerial voyage which he undertook, August 6th, 1784:--

"The progress of the Montgolfiere was so sudden that one might
almost have believed that it arose all inflated and furnished out
of some chasm in the earth The air was calm, the sky without
clouds, the sun very strong.  Our fuel and instruments were put
into the gallery, my companion, M. Louchet, was at his post, and
I took mine.  At twenty minutes past eight the cords were
loosened, we waved a farewell to the spectators, and while two
cannon-shots announced our departure, we were already high above
the loftiest buildings.

"To the general acclamations of the crowd succeeded a profound
silence.  The spectators, half in fear, half in admiration, stood
motionless, with eyes fixed, and gazing eagerly at the superb
machine, which rose almost vertically with rapidity and also with
grandeur.  Some women, and even some men, fainted away; others
raised their hands to heaven; others shed tears; all grew pale at
the sight of our bright fire.

"'We have quitted the earth,' said I to my companion.

"'I compliment you on the fact,' he answered; 'keep up the fire!'

"A truss of hay, steeped in spirits of wine accelerated the
swiftness of our ascent.  I cast my glance upon the town, which
seemed to flee rapidly from under our feet.  Terrestrial objects
had already lost their shape and size.  The burning heat which I
felt at first now gave place to a temperature of the most
agreeable kind, and the air which we breathed seemed to contain
healthful elements unknown to dwellers on the lower earth.

"'How well I am!' I said to Louchet; 'how are you?'

"'As well as can be.  Would that I could dispatch a message to
the earth!'

"Immediately I threw over a roll of paper on which I had written
the words, 'All well on board the City of Rodez.'

"At thirty-two minutes past eight our elevation was at least
6,000 feet above sea level.  A flame from our fire, rising from
eighteen to twenty feet, sent us up another 1,000 feet.  It was
then that our machine was seen by every spectator within a
circuit of nine miles, and it appeared to be right over the heads
of all of them.

"'Send us up out of sight,' said my adventurous confrere.

"I had to moderate his ardour--a larger fire would have burnt our
balloon.

"From our moving observatory the most splendid view developed
itself.  The boundaries of the horizon were vastly extended.  The
capital of the Rouergue appeared to be no more than a group of
stones, one of which seemed to rise to the height of two or three
feet.  This was no other than the superb tower of the cathedral.
Fertile slopes, agreeable valleys, lofty precipices, waste lands,
ancient castles perched upon frowning rocks, these form the
endlessly varied spectacle which the Rouergue and the
neighbouring provinces present to the view of those who traverse
the surface of the earth.  But how different is the scene to the
aerial voyager!  We could perceive only a vast country, perfectly
round, and seemingly a little elevated in the middle, irregularly
marked with verdure, but without inhabitants, without towns,
valleys, rivers, or mountains.  Living beings no longer existed
for us; the forests were changed into what looked like grassy
plains; the ranges of the Cantal and the Cevennes had
disappeared; we looked in vain for the Mediterranean, and the
Pyrenees seemed only a long series of piles of snow, connected at
their bases.  Our own balloon, which from Rodez appeared about
the size of a marble, was the only object that for us retained
its natural dimensions.  What wonderful sensations then arose
within us!  I had often reflected upon the works of nature; their
magnificence had always filled me with admiration.  In this
soul-stirring moment how beautiful did nature seem--how grand!
With what majesty did it strike my imagination.  Never did man
appear to me before such an excellent being His latest triumph
over the elements recalled to my mind his other conquests of
nature.  My companion was animated with the same sentiments, and
more than once we cried out, 'Vive Montgolfier!  Vive Roziers!
Vivent ceux qui ont du courage et de la constance!'

"In the meantime our fuel was getting near the end.  In eighteen
minutes we had run a distance of 12,000 feet.  'Make your
observations while I attend to the fire,' said my companion to
me.  I examined the barometer, the thermometer, and the compass,
and having sealed up a small bottle of the air at this elevation,
I asked my companion to reduce the fire.  We descended 1,800
feet, and at this height I filled another bottle with air.

"Afterwards we felt the refreshing breath of a slight breeze,
which carried us gently toward the south-east.  In six minutes we
had run 18,000 feet.  Then, having only sufficient fuel to enable
us to choose the place of our descent, we considered whether we
should not bring our aerial voyage to a termination.  We had
neither lake nor forest to fear, and we were secure against
danger from fire, as we could detach the grating at some distance
from the earth.  At fifty-eight minutes past eight all our fuel
was exhausted, except two bundles of straw, of four pounds each,
which we reserved for our descent.  The balloon came gradually
down, and terrestrial objects began again to resume their proper
forms and dimensions.  The animals fled at the sight of our
balloon, which seemed likely to crush them in its fall.  Horsemen
were obliged to dismount and lead their frightened horses.
Terrified by such an unwonted sight, the labourers in the fields
abandoned their work.  We were not more than 600 feet from the
earth.  We threw on the two bundles of straw, but still gradually
descended.  The grating was then detached, and I had no
difficulty in leaping to the ground.  But now a most surprising
and unlooked-for event happened.  M. Louchet had not been able to
descend at the same moment as myself, and the balloon, now free
from my weight, immediately re-ascended with the speed of a bird,
bearing away my companion.  I followed him with my eyes, and it
was to my agreeable surprise that I heard him crying to me, 'All
is well; fear not!' though it was not without a species of
jealousy that I saw him mounting up to the height of 1,400 or
1,500 feet.  The balloon, after having run a distance of 3,600
feet in a horizontal direction, began gently to descend at four
minutes past nine, at the village of Inieres, after having
travelled 42,000 feet from the point of departure.  When it had
touched the ground it bumped up again two or three feet.  M.
Louchet jumped out, and seized one of the ropes, but had much
difficulty in holding the balloon in hand.  He cried to the
frightened peasants to come and help him.  But they seemed to
regard him as a dangerous magician, or as a monster, and they
feared to touch the ropes lest they might be swallowed up by the
balloon.  Soon afterwards I came to the rescue.  The balloon was
in as thorough repair as when we began our journey.  We then
pressed out the hot air, folded up the envelope, placed it upon a
small cart drawn by two oxen, and drove off with it."



Chapter IV.  Serio-Comic Aspect of the Subject--The Public
Duped--The Abbes Miolan and Janninet at the
Luxembourg--Cariacatures--The "Minerva" of Robertson, and its
Voyage Round the World.

The discovery like that of balloons could not be made public in
France without being travestied, and without offering some comic
side for the amusement of the wits of the day.  Under some old
coloured prints, designed with the intention of satirising such
unfortunate aeronauts as had collected their money from the
spectators, but had failed in inflating their balloons, is
written, "The Infallible Means of Raising Balloons"--the
infallible means consisting of ropes and pulleys.

While caricature was thus turning its irony upon the efforts of
believers in the new idea, serious pamphlets were being written
and published with the same object.  One of these declares that
the discovery is IMMORAL,  I. Because since God has not given
wings to man, it is impious to try to improve his works, and to
encroach upon his rights as a Creator;  2. Because honour and
virtue would be in continual danger, if balloons were permitted
to descend, at all hours of the night, into gardens and close to
windows;  3. Because, if the highway of the air were to remain
open to all and sundry, the frontiers of nations would vanish,
and property national and personal would be invaded, &c.  We do
not wish to gather together here the stones which critics threw
against the new discovery, unaware all the time that these stones
were falling upon their own heads.

It is only fair to state that after the first ascents the public
were often duped by pretending aeronauts, whose single aim was to
sell their tickets, and who disappeared when the time came for
ascending.  The result of these frauds was that sometimes honest
men were made to suffer as rogues.  Even in our own day, when an
ascent, seriously intended, fails to succeed, owing to some
unforeseen circumstances, the public frequently manifests a
decided ill-will to the aeronaut, who is perfectly honest, and
only unfortunate.

The famous ascent of the Abbes Miolan and Janninet, at the
Luxembourg, may be cited as among the failures which suffered
most from the satire of the time.  Their immense balloon,
constructed at great expense at the observatory, was expected to
rise beyond the clouds, and a multitude, each of whom had paid
dearly for his ticket, had assembled at the Luxembourg.  The
morning had been occupied in removing the balloon from the
observatory to the place of ascent, and at midday the inflation
of it began.  The rays of a burning July sun--and one knows what
that is in the Luxembourg in Paris--streamed down on the heads of
the thousands of spectators.  From six in the morning till four
in the evening they had waited to see the unheard-of wonder; the
ascent, however, was to be so imposing, that nothing could be
lost by waiting for it.

But at five in the afternoon the heavy machine was still
motionless--inert upon the ground.  We need not attempt to
describe the scene which took place as the impatience of the
multitude increased.  Sneers of derision made themselves heard on
all sides.  A universal murmur, rapidly developing into a
clamour, arose amongst the multitude; then, wild with
disappointment, the frenzied populace threw themselves upon the
barricade, broke it, attacked the gallery of the balloon, the
instruments, the apparatus, trampling them under foot, and
smashing them in bits.  They then rushed upon the balloon and
fired it.  There was then a general melee.  Far from fleeing the
fire, every one struggled to seize and carry off a bit of the
balloon, to preserve as a relic.  The two abbes escaped as they
best could, under protection of a number of friends.

After this there fell a perfect shower of lampoons and
caricatures. The Abbe Miolan was represented as a cat with a band
round its neck, while Janninet appeared as a donkey; and in a
coloured print the cat and the ass are shown arriving in triumph
upon their famous balloon at the Academy of Montmartre, and are
received at the hill of Moulins-a-Vent by a solemn assembly of
turkey-cocks and geese in different attitudes.  Numerous songs
and epigrams, of which the unfortunate abbes were the subjects,
also appeared at this time.  The letters which composed the words
"l'Abbe Miolan" were found to form the anagram, Ballon
abime--"the balloon swallowed up."

The most extravagant balloon project was that of Robertson, who
published a scheme for making a tour of the world.  He called it
"La Minerva, an aerial vessel destined for discoveries, and
proposed to all the Academies of Europe, by Robertson, physicist"
(Vienna, 1804; reprinted at Paris, 1820), Robertson dedicated his
project to Volta, and in his dedication he does not scruple to
say: "In our age, my friendship seeks only one gratification,
that we should both live a sufficiently long time together to
enable you to calculate and utilise the results of this great
machine, while I take the practical direction of it."  The
following is this aeronaut's prospectus:--

"There is no limit to the sciences and the arts, which
cultivation does not overstep.  We have everything to hope and to
expect from time, from chance, and from the genius of man.  The
difference which there is between the canoe of the savage and the
man-of-war of 124 guns is perhaps as great as that of balloons as
they now are and as they will be in the course of a century.  If
you ask of an aeronaut why he cannot command the motions of his
balloon, he will ask of you in his turn why the inventor of the
canoe did not immediately afterwards construct a man-of-war.  It
must be recollected that there have not yet elapsed forty years
since the discovery of the balloon, and that to perfect it would
be a work of difficulty, as much from the increased knowledge
which such a work would demand, as from the pecuniary sacrifices
and the personal devotion which it would involve.

"Thus this invention, after having at first electrified all
savants from the one end of the world to the other, has suffered
the fate of all discoveries--it was all at once arrested.  Did
not astronomy wait long for Newton, and chemistry for Lavoisier,
to raise them to something like the splendour they now enjoy? Was
not the magnet a long time a toy in the hands of the Chinese,
without giving birth to the idea of the compass?  The electric
fluid was known in the time of Thales, but how many ages did we
wait for the discovery of galvanism?  Yet these sciences, which
may be studied in silent retreats, were more likely to yield
fruit to the discoverer than aerostatics, which demand courage
and skill, and of which the experiments, which are always public,
are attended with great cost."

Robertson's proposed machine was to be 150 feet in diameter, and
would be capable of carrying 150,000 lbs.  Every precaution was
to be taken in order to make the great structure perfect.  It was
to accommodate sixty persons to be chosen by the academics, who
should stay in it for several months should rise to all possible
elevations, pass through all climates in all seasons, make
scientific observations, &c.  This balloon, penetrating deserts
inaccessible by other means of travel, and visiting places which
travellers have never penetrated, would be of immense use in the
science of geography: and when under the line, if the heat near
the earth should be inconvenient, the aeronauts would, of course,
easily rise to elevations where the temperature is equal and
agreeable.  When their observations, their needs, or their
pleasures demanded it, they could descend to within a short
distance of the earth, say ninety feet, and fix themselves in
their position by means of an anchor.  It might, perhaps, be
possible, by taking the advantage of favourable winds, to make
the tour of the world.  "Experience will perhaps demonstrate that
aerial navigation presents less inconvenience and less dangers
than the navigation of the seas."

The immensity of the seas seemed to be the only source of
insurmountable difficulties; "but," says Robertson, "over what a
vast space might not one travel in six months with a balloon
fully furnished with the necessaries of life, and all the
appliances necessary for safety?   Besides, if, through the
natural imperfection attaching to all the works of man, or either
through accident or age, the balloon, borne above the sea, became
incapable of sustaining the travellers, it is provided with a
boat, which can withstand the waters and guarantee the return of
the voyagers."

Such were the ideas promulgated regarding the "Minerva."  The
following is the serious description given of the machine.  The
numbers correspond with those on the illustration.

"The cock (3) is the symbol of watchfulness; it is also the
highest point of the balloon.  An observer, getting up through
the interior to the point at which the watchful fowl is placed,
will be able to command the best view to be had in the 'Minerva.'
The wings at the side (1 and 2) are to be regarded as ornamental.
The balloon will be 150 feet in diameter, made expressly at Lyons
of unbleached silk, coated within and without with indict-rubber.
This globe sustains a ship, which contains or has attached to it
all the things necessary for the convenience, the observations,
and even the pleasures of the voyagers.

"(a) A small boat, in which the passengers might take refuge in
case of necessity, in the event of the larger vessel falling on
the sea in a disabled state.

"(b) A large store for keeping the water, wine, and all the
provisions of the expedition.

"(cc) Ladders of silk, to enable the passengers to go to all
parts of the balloon.

"(e) Closets.

"(h) Pilot's room.

"(1) An observatory, containing the compasses and other
scientific instruments for taking the latitude.

"(g) A room fitted up for recreations, walking, and gymnastics.

"(m) The kitchen, far removed from the balloon.  It is the only
place where a fire shall be permitted.

"(p) Medicine room.

"(v) A theatre, music room, &c.

"--The study.

"(x) The tents of the air-marines, &c. &c."

This balloon is certainly the most marvellous that has ever been
imagined--quite a town, with its forts, ramparts, cannon,
boulevards, and galleries.  One can understand the many squibs
and satires which so Utopian a notion provoked.



Chapter V.  First Aerial Voyage in England--Blanchard Crosses the
Sea in a Balloon.

In spite of their known powers of industry and perseverance, the
English did not throw themselves with any great ardour into the
exploration of the atmosphere.  From one cause or another it is
the French and the Italians that have chiefly distinguished
themselves in this art.  The English historian of aerostation
gives some details of the first aerial voyage made in this
country by the Italian, Vincent Lunardy.

The balloon was made of silk covered with a varnish of oil, and
painted in alternate stripes--blue and red.  It was three feet in
diameter.  Cords fixed upon it hung down and were attached to a
hoop at the bottom, from which a gallery was suspended.  This
balloon had no safety-valve--its neck was the only opening by
which the hydrogen gas was introduced, and by which it was
allowed to escape.

In September, 1784, it was carried to the Artillery Ground and
filled with gas.  After being two-thirds filled, the gallery was
attached with its two oars or wings, and Lunardy, accompanied by
Biggin and Madame Sage, took his place; but it was found that the
balloon had not sufficient lifting power to carry up the whole
three, and Lunardy went up alone, with the exception of the
pigeon, the cat, and the dog, that were with him.

The balloon rose to the height of about twenty feet, then
followed  a horizontal line, and descended.  But the gallery had
no sooner touched the earth than Lunardy threw over the sand that
served as ballast, and mounted triumphantly, amid the applause of
a  considerable multitude of spectators.  After a time he
descended upon a common, where he left the cat nearly dead with
cold, ascended, and continued his voyage.  He says, in the
narrative which he has left, that he descended by means of the
one oar which was left to him, the other having fallen over; but,
as he states that, in order to rise again, he threw over the
remainder of his ballast, it is natural to believe that the
descent of the balloon was caused by the loss of gas, because, if
he descended by the use of the oar, he must have re-ascended when
he stopped using it.  He landed in the parish of Standon, where
he was assisted by the peasants.

He assures us again that he came down the second time by means of
the oar.  He says:--"I took my oar to descend, and in from
fifteen to twenty minutes I arrived at the earth after much
fatigue, my strength being nearly exhausted.  My chief desire was
to escape a shock on reaching the earth, and fortune favoured
me."  The fear of a concussion seems to indicate that he
descended more because of the weight of the balloon than by the
action of the oar.

It appears that the only scientific instrument he had was a
thermometer which fell to 29 degrees.  The drops of water which
had attached themselves to the balloon were frozen.

The second aerial journey in England was undertaken by Blanchard
and Sheldon.  The latter, a professor of anatomy in the Royal
Academy, is the first Englishman who ever went up in a balloon.
This ascent was made from Chelsea on the 16th October, 1784.

The same balloon which Blanchard had used in France served him on
this occasion, with the difference that.  the hoop which went
round the middle of it, and the parasol above the car, were
dispensed with.  At the extremity of his car he had fitted a sort
of ventilator, which he was able to move about by means of a
winch.  This ventilator, together with the wings and the helm,
were to serve especially the purpose of steering at will, which
he had often said was quite practicable as soon as a certain
elevation had been reached.

The two aeronauts ascended, haying with them a number of
scientific and musical instruments, some refreshments, ballast,
&c.  Twice the ascent failed, and eventually Sheldon got out, and
Blanchard went up again alone.

Blanchard says that, on this second ascent, he was carried first
north-east, then east-south-east of Sunbury in Middlesex.  He
rose so high that he had great difficulty in breathing, the
pigeon he had with him escaped, but could hardly maintain itself
in the rarefied air of such an elevated region, and finding no
place to rest, came back and perched on the side of the car.
After a time, the cold becoming excessive, Blanchard descended
until he could distinguish men on the earth, and hear their
shouting.  After many vicissitudes he landed upon a plain in
Hampshire, about seventy-five miles from the point of departure.
It was observed that, so long as he could be clearly seen, he
executed none of the feats with his wings, ventilator, &c., which
he had promised to exhibit.

Enthusiasm about aerial voyages was now at its climax; the most
wonderful deeds were spoken of as commonplace, and the word
"impossible" was erased from the language.  Emboldened by his
success, Blanchard one day announced in the newspapers that he
would cross from England to France in a balloon--a marvellous
journey, the success of which depended altogether upon the course
of the wind, to the mercy of which the bold aeronaut committed
himself.

A certain Dr. Jeffries offered to accompany Blanchard.  On the
7th of January the sky was calm, in consequence of a strong frost
during the preceding night, the wind which was very light, being
from the north-north-west.  The arranged meets were made above
the cliffs of Dover.  When the balloon rose, there were only
three sacks of sand of 10 lbs. each in it.  They had not been
long above ground when the barometer sank from 29.7 to 27.3.  Dr.
Jeffries, in a letter addressed to the president of the Royal
Society, describes with enthusiasm the spectacle spread out
before him: the broad country lying behind Dover, sown with
numerous towns and villages, formed a charming view; while the
rocks on the other side, against which the waves dashed, offered
a prospect that was rather trying.

They had already passed one-third of the distance across the
Channel when the balloon descended for the second time, and they
threw over the last of their ballast ; and that not sufficing,
they threw over some books, and found themselves rising again.
After having got more than half way, they found to their dismay,
from the rising of the barometer, that they were again
descending, and the remainder of their books were thrown over.
At twenty-five minutes past two o'clock they had passed
three-quarters of their journey, and they perceived ahead the
inviting coasts of France.  But, in consequence either of the
loss or the condensation of the inflammable gas, they found
themselves once more descending. They then threw over their
provisions, the wings of the car, and other objects.  "We were
obliged," says Jeffries, "to throw out the only bottle we had,
which fell on the water with a loud sound, and sent up spray like
smoke."

They were now near the water themselves, and certain death seemed
to stare them in the face.  It is said that at this critical
moment Jeffries offered to throw himself into the sea, in order
to save the life of his companion.

"We are lost, both of us," said he; "and if you believe that it
will save you to be lightened of my weight, I am willing to
sacrifice my life."

This story has certainly the appearance of romance, and belief in
it is not positively demanded.

One desperate resource only remained--they could detach the car
and hang on themselves to the ropes of the balloon.  They were
preparing to carry out this idea, when they imagined they felt
themselves beginning to ascend again.  It was indeed so.  The
balloon mounted once more; they were only four miles from the
coast of France, and their progress through the air was rapid.
All fear was now banished.  Their exciting situation, and the
idea that they were the first who had ever traversed the Channel
in such a manner, rendered them careless about the want of
certain articles of dress which they had discarded.  At three
o'clock they passed over the shore half-way between Cape Blanc
and Calais.  Then the balloon, rising rapidly, described a great
arc, and they found themselves at a greater elevation than at any
part of their course.  The wind increased in strength, and
changed a little in its direction.  Having descended to the tops
of the trees of the forest of Guines, Dr. Jeffries seized a
branch, and by this means arrested their advance.  The valve was
then opened, the gas rushed out, and the aeronauts safely reached
the ground after the successful accomplishment of this daring and
memorable enterprise.

A number of horsemen, who had watched the recent course of the
balloon, now rode up, and gave the adventurers the most cordial
reception.  On the following day a splendid fete was celebrated
in their honour at Calais.  Blanchard -was presented with the
freedom of the city in a box of gold, and the municipal body
purchased the balloon, with the intention of placing it in one of
the churches as a memorial of this experiment, it being also
resolved to erect a marble monument on the spot where the famous
aeronauts landed.

Some days afterwards Blanchard was summoned before the king, who
conferred upon him an annual pension of 1,200 livres.  The queen,
who was at play at the gambling table, placed a sum for him upon
a card, and presented him with the purse which she won.



Chapter VI.  Zambeccari's Perilous Trip Across the Adriatic Sea.

There is not in the whole annals of aerostation a more moving
catastrophe than that of the unfortunate Comte Zambeccari, who,
during an aerial journey on October the 7th, 1804, was cast away
on the waves of the Adriatic.

The history of Zambeccari is dramatic throughout.  After having
been taken by the Turks and thrown into the Bay of
Constantinople, from which he with difficulty escaped, he devoted
himself to the study and practice of aerial navigation.  He
fancied he could make use of a lamp supplied with spirits of
wine, the flame of which he could direct at will, in the hope of
thus being able to steer the balloon in whatever direction he
chose.  One day his balloon damaged itself against a tree at
Boulogne, and the spirits of wine set his clothes on fire.  The
flames with which the aeronaut was covered only served to
increase the ascending power of the balloon, and the frightened
spectators, among whom were Zambeccari's young wife and children,
saw him carried up into the clouds out of sight.  He succeeded,
however, in extinguishing the fire which surrounded him.

In 1804, he organised a series of experiments at Milan, for which
he received, in advance, the sum of 8,000 crowns; but the
experiments failed, in consequence of the inclemency of the
weather, the treachery of his assistants, and the malice of his
rivals.

At length, on the 7th of October, after a fall of rain which
lasted forty-eight hours, and which had delayed the announced
ascent, he resolved, whatever might happen, to carry it out,
though all the chances were against him.  Eight young men whom he
had instructed,  and who had promised him their assistance in
filling the balloon, failed him at the critical moment.  Still,
however, he continued  his labours, with the help of two
companions, Andreoli and Grassetti.  Wearied with his
long-continued efforts, dis-appointed and hungry,  he took his
place in the car.

The two companions whom we have named went with him. They rose
gently at first, and hovered over the town of Bologna.
Zambeccari says, "The lamp, which was intended to increase our
ascending force, became useless.  We could not observe the state
of the barometer by the feeble light of a lantern.  The
insupportable cold that prevailed in the high region to which we
had ascended, the weariness and hunger arising from my having
neglected to take nourishment for twenty-four hours, the vexation
that embittered my spirit--all these combined produced in me a
total prostration, and I fell upon the floor of the gallery in a
profound sleep that was like death.  'The same misfortune
overtook my companion Grassetti.  Andreoli was the only one who
remained awake and able for duty--no doubt because he had taken
plenty of food and a large quantity of rum.  Still he suffered
from the cold, which was excessive, and his endeavours to wake me
were for a long time vain.  Finally, however, he succeeded in
getting me to my feet, but my ideas were confused, and I demanded
of him, like one newly awaking from a dream, 'What is the news?
Where are we?  What time is it?  How is the wind?'

"It was two o'clock.  The compass had been broken, and was
useless; the wax light in the lantern would not burn in such a
rarefied atmosphere.  We descended gently across a thick layer of
whitish clouds, and when we had got below them, Andreoli heard a
sound, muffled and almost inaudible, which he immediately
recognised as the breaking of waves in the distance.  Instantly
he announced to me this new and fearful danger.  I listened, and
had not long to wait before I was convinced that he was speaking
the truth.  It was necessary to have light to examine the state
of the barometer, and thus ascertain what was our elevation above
the sea level, and to take our measures in consequence.  Andreoli
broke five phosphoric matches, without getting a spark of fire.
Nevertheless, we succeeded, after very great difficulty, by the
help of the flint and steel, in lighting the lantern.  It was now
three o'clock in the morning--we had started at midnight.  The
sound of the waves, tossing with wild uproar, became louder and
louder, and I suddenly saw the surface of the sea violently
agitated just below us.  I immediately seized a large sack of
sand, but had not time to throw it over before we were all in the
water, gallery and all.  In the first moment of fright, we threw
into the sea everything that would lighten the balloon--our
ballast, all our instruments, a portion of our clothing, our
money, and the oars.  As, in spite of all this, the balloon did
not rise, we threw over our lamp also.  After having torn and cut
away everything that did not appear to us to be of indispensable
necessity, the balloon, thus very much lightened, rose all at
once, but with such rapidity and to such a prodigious elevation,
that we had difficulty in hearing each other, even when shouting
at the top of our voices. I was ill, and vomited severely.
Grassetti was bleeding at the nose; we were both breathing short
and hard, and felt oppression on the chest.  As we were thrown
upon our backs at the moment when the balloon took such a sudden
start out of the water and bore us with such swiftness to those
high regions, the cold seized us suddenly, and we found ourselves
covered all at once with a coating of ice.  I could not account
for the reason why the moon, which was in its last quarter,
appeared on a parallel line with us, and looked red as blood.

"After having traversed these regions for half an hour, at an
immeasurable elevation, the balloon slowly began to descend, and
at last we fell again into the sea, at about four in the morning
I cannot determine at what distance we were from land when we
fell the second time.  The night was very dark, the sea rolling
heavily, and we were in no condition to make observations.  But
it must have been in the middle of the Adriatic that we fell.
Although we descended gently, the gallery was sunk, and we were
often entirely covered with water.  The balloon being now more
than half empty, in consequence of the vicissitudes through,
which we had passed, gave a purchase to the wind, which pressed
against it as against a sail, so that by means of it we were
dragged and beaten about at the mercy of the storm and the waves.
At daybreak we looked out and found ourselves opposite Pesaro,
four miles from the shore.  We were comforting ourselves with the
prospect of a safe landing, when a wind from the land drove us
with violence away over the open sea.  It was now full day, but
all we could see were the sea, the sky, and the death that
threatened us.  Certainly some boats happened to come within
sight; but no sooner did they see the balloon floating and
striping upon the water than they made all sail to get away from
it.  No hope was then left to us but the very small one of making
the coasts of Dalmatia, which were opposite, but at a great
distance from us.  Without the slightest doubt we should have
been drowned if heaven had not mercifully directed towards us a
navigator who, better informed than those we had seen before,
recognised our machine to be a balloon and quickly sent his
long-boat to our rescue.  The sailors threw us a stout cable,
which we attached to the gallery, and by means of which they
rescued us when fainting with exposure.  The balloon thus
lightened, immediately rose into the air, in spite of all the
efforts of the sailors who wished to capture it.  The long boat
received a severe shock from its escape, as the rope was still
attached to it, and the sailors hastened to cut themselves free.
At once the balloon mounted with incredible rapidity, and was
lost in the clouds, where it disappeared for ever from our view.
It was eight in the morning when we got on board.  Grassetti was
so ill that he hardly showed any signs of life.  His hands were
sadly mutilated.  Cold, hunger, and the dreadful anxiety had
completely prostrated me.  The brave captain of the vessel did
everything in his power to restore us.  He conducted us safely to
Ferrara, whence we were carried to Pola, where we were received
with the greatest kindness, and where I was compelled to have my
fingers amputated."



Chapter VII.  Garnerin--Parachutes--Aerostation at Public Fetes.

"On the 22nd October, 1797," says the astronomer Lalande, "at
twenty-eight minutes past five, Citizen Garnerin rose in a
balloon from the park of Monceau.  Silence reigned in the
assembly, anxiety and fear being painted on the visages of all.
When he had ascended upwards of 2,000 feet, he cut the cord that
connected his parachute and car with the balloon.  The latter
exploded, and Garnerin descended in his parachute very rapidly.
He made a dreadful lurch in the air, that forced a sudden cry of
fear from the whole multitude, and made a number of women faint.
Meanwhile Citizen Garnerin descended into the plain of Monceau;
he mounted his horse upon the spot, and rode back to the park,
attended by an immense multitude, who gave vent to their
admiration for the skill and talent of the young aeronaut.
Garnerin was the first to undertake this most daring and
dangerous venture. He had conceived the idea of this feat while
lying a prisoner of state in Buda, Hungary."  Lalande adds that
he went and announced his success at the Institute National,
which was assembled at the time, and which listened to him with
the greatest interest.

Robertson conducted an experiment of descending by means of a
parachute at Vienna, in 1804, in which he received all the glory,
without partaking of any of the danger.  He made the public
preparations for an ascent in the balloon, his pupil, Michaud,
however, took his place in the car, and made the ascent.

Robertson says that on this occasion he yielded to the entreaties
of a young man who was his pupil, and had begged to be allowed to
make his debut before such a great multitude.  In this case a
slight improvement was made in the parachute.  The car was
surrounded by a cloth of silk, which, when the aeronaut cut
himself away from the balloon, spread itself out in such a way as
to form a second parachute.

Robertson made all the preparations, and Michaud had no more to
do than place himself in the car.  Loud applause arose on all
sides. Michaud had ascended 900 feet above the earth when the
signal for his cutting himself clear of the balloon was given, by
the firing of a cannon.  He at once cut the two strings, and the
balloon soared away into the upper regions, whilst he was left
for one terrible moment to fate.  The fall was at first rapid,
but the two parachutes soon opened themselves simultaneously, and
presented a majestic appearance.  In a few seconds the aeronaut
had traversed the space that intervened between him and the
assembly, and found himself safely landed on the ground, at a
short distance from the place whence he had set out, while the
whole air was rent with shouts of applause.  This experiment was
deemed a most extraordinary one.  Compliments were showered upon
Robertson from all sides, and the court presented him with rich
presents.

Balloons have always formed a prominent feature at the fetes of
Paris, for the celebration of the chief events of the Revolution,
the Consulate, and the Empire--the first of these epochs being
that in which these aerial vessels were held in highest esteem.

Jacques Garnerin had played a brilliant role as aeronaut under
the Directory, the Consulate, and the Empire; and it was he who
after the coronation of the Emperor Napoleon I., was charged with
the raising of a monster balloon, which was arranged to ascend,
with the accompaniment of fireworks, on the evening of the 16th
of December, 1804.

An uncommon incident connected with this event serves to show us
the spirit of fatalism with which the character of Napoleon I.
was infected.  "The Man of Destiny" believed in the destiny of
man; he had faith in his star alone; and from the height of his
greatness the new ruler, consecrated emperor and king by the
Pope, beheld a presage of misfortune in a chance circumstance,
insignificant to all but himself, in the experiment of which we
are about to recount the history.

The fete given by the city of Paris to their majesties embraced
the whole town, from the Champs Elysees to the Barriere du Trone,
on the square of the Hotel de Ville.  Upon the river throughout
its length between the Isle of St. Louis and the bridge of Notre
Dame, an immense display of fireworks was to take place.  The
scene to be represented was the passage of Mont St. Bernard.
Garnerin was stationed with his balloon in front of the gate of
the church of Notre Dame.  At eleven o'clock in the evening, at
the moment when the first discharge of fireworks made the air
luminous with a hundred thousand stars, Garnerin threw off his
immense balloon.  The chief feature of it was the device of a
crown, designed in coloured lanterns arranged round the globe. It
rose splendidly, and with the most perfect success.

On the following morning the inhabitants of Rome were astounded
to behold advancing toward them from the horizon a luminous
globe, which threatened to descend upon their city.  The
excitement was intense.  The balloon passed the cupola of St.
Peter's and the Vatican; then descending, it touched the ground,
but rose again, and finally it sank into the wafers of Lake
Bracciano.

It was drawn from the water, and the following inscription,
emblazoned in letters of gold upon its vast circumference, was
printed, published, and read throughout the whole of
Italy--"Paris, 25eme Primaire, an XIII., couronnement de
l'empereur Napoleon, 1er par S.S. Pie VII."

In touching the earth, the balloon happened to strike against the
tomb of the Emperor Nero, and, owing to the concussion, a portion
of the crown was left upon this ancient monument.  The Italian
journals, which were not so strictly under the supervision of the
government as were the journals of France, gave the full
particulars of these minor events; and certain of them,
connecting the names  of Nero and Napoleon, indulged in malicious
remarks at the expense of the French emperor.  These facts came
to the ear of the great general, who manifested much indignation,
dismissed the innocent Garnerin from his post, and appointed
Madame Blanchard to the supervision of all the balloon ascents
which took place at the public fetes.

The balloon was preserved in the vaults of the Vatican in Rome,
accompanied with an inscription narrating its travels and
wonderful descent--minus the circumstance of the tomb.  It was
removed, as might be supposed, in 1814.  From this time the
ascents of balloons took place for the most part only on the
occasions of coronations and other great public fetes.



Chapter VIII.  Green's Great Journey Across Europe.

It is probable that at the origin of navigation, man, before he
had invented oars and sails, made use of trunks of trees upon
which he trusted himself, leaving the rest to the winds and the
currents of the water, whether these were known or unknown.
There is some analogy between such rude rafts, the first
discovered means of navigation on water, and balloons, the first
discovered means of navigation in air.  But unquestionably the
advantage is with the latter.  No means have yet been found of
directly steering balloons, but by allowing the gas to escape the
aeronaut can descend at will, and by lightening his car of part
of the ballast he carries he can ascend as readily.  It must also
be remembered that the currents of air vary in their directions,
according to their elevation, and were the aeronaut perfectly
acquainted with aerial currents, he might, by raising or lowering
himself, find a wind blowing in the direction in which he wished
to proceed, and the last problem of aerostation would be solved.
That any such knowledge can ever be acquired it is impossible to
say; but this much may with safety be advanced, that distant
journeys may frequently be taken with balloons for useful
purposes.

One of the most remarkable excursions of this kind was that
superintended by Green, in 1836, from London to Germany.  This
journey, 1,200 miles in length, is the longest that has been yet
accomplished.  Green set out from London on the 7th of November,
1836, accompanied by two friends--Monk-Mason, the historian of
the journey, and a gentleman named Molland.  Not knowing to what
quarter of the globe he might be blown, Green provided himself
with passports to all the states of Europe, and with a quantity
of provisions sufficient to last him for some time, should he be
driven by the wind over the sea.  Shortly after mid-day the
balloon rose with great grandeur, and, urged by a light breeze,
floated to the south-east, over the plains of Kent.  At four
o'clock the voyagers sighted the sea.

"It was forty-eight minutes past four," says Monk-Mason, "that we
first saw the line of waves breaking on the shores beneath us. It
would have been impossible to have remained unmoved by the
grandeur of the spectacle that spread out before us.  Behind us
were the coasts of England, with their white cliffs half lost in
the coming darkness.  Beneath us on both sides the ocean spread
out far end wide to where the darkness closed in the scene.
Opposite us a barrier of thick clouds like a wall, surmounted all
along its line with projections like so many towers, bastions,
and battlements, rose up from the sea as if to stop our advance.
A few minutes afterwards we were in the midst of this cloudy
barrier, surrounded with darkness, which the vapours of the night
increased.  We heard no sound.  The noise of the waves breaking
on the shores of England had ceased, and our position had for
some time cut us off from all the sounds of earth."

In an hour the Straits of Dover were cleared, the lights of
Calais shone out toward the voyagers, and the sound of the town
drums rose up toward them. "Darkness was now complete," continues
the writer, "and it was only by the lights, sometimes isolated,
sometimes seen in masses, and showing themselves far down on the
earth beneath us, that we could form a guess of the countries we
traversed, or of the towns and villages which appeared before us
every moment.  The whole surface of the earth for many leagues
round showed nothing but scattered lights, and the face of the
earth seemed to rival the vault of heaven with starry fires.
Every moment in the earlier part of the night before men had
betaken themselves to repose, clusters of lights appeared
indicating large centres of population.

Those on the horizon gave us the notion of a distant
conflagration. In proportion as we approached them, these masses
of lights appeared  to increase, and to cover a greater space,
until, when right over them, they seemed to divide themselves
into different parts, to stretch out in long streets, and to
shine in starry quadrangles round the squares, so that we could
see the exact plan of each city, given as on a small map.  It
would be difficult to give an idea of what sort of effect such a
scene in such circumstances produces.  To find oneself
transported in the darkness of night, in the midst of vast
solitudes of air, unknown, unperceived, in secret and in silence,
exploring territories, traversing kingdoms, watching towns which
come into view, and pass out of it before one can examine them in
detail--these circumstances are enough in themselves to render
sublime a science which, independent of these adjuncts, would be
so interesting. If you add to this the uncertainty which,
increasing as we went on into the night, began to assail us
respecting our voyage, our ignorance of where we were, and what
were the objects we were attempting to discover, you may form
some idea of our singular position.

About midnight, the travellers found themselves above Liege.
Situated in the midst of a thickly-peopled country, full of
foundries, smelting works, and forges, this town was quite a
blaze of light.  The gas-lamps with which this town is so well
lighted, clearly marked out for our travellers the main streets,
the squares, and the public buildings.  But after midnight, at
which time the lamps in continental towns are mostly put out, the
whole of the under world disappeared from the view of the
aeronauts.

"After the turn of the night," says Mason, "the moon did not show
itself, and the heavens, always more sombre when regarded from
great altitudes, seemed to us to intensify the natural darkness.
On the other hand, by a singular contrast, the stars shone out
with unusual brilliancy, and seemed like living sparks sown upon
the ebony vault that surrounded us.  In fact, nothing could
exceed the intensity of the night which prevailed during this
part of our voyage.  A black profound abyss surrounded us on all
sides, and, as we attempted to penetrate into the mysterious
deeps, it was with difficulty we could beat back the idea and the
apprehension that we were making a passage through an immense
mass of black marble, in which we were enclosed, and which, solid
to within a few inches of us, appeared to open up at our
approach."

Until three o'clock the voyagers were in this state.  The height
of the balloon, as calculated by the barometer, was 2,000 feet.
They had not then anything to fear from a disastrous encounter,
when all at once a sudden explosion was heard, the silk of the
balloon quivered, the car received a violent shock, and seemed to
be shot suddenly into the gloomy abyss.  A second explosion and a
third succeeded, accompanied each time by this fearful shock to
the car.  The travellers soon found out that, owing to the great
altitude, the gas had expanded, and the rope which surrounded it,
saturated with water, and frozen with the intense cold, had
yielded to the pressure, in jerks which caused the report and the
shock.

"From time to time," continues Mason, "vast masses of clouds
covered the lower regions of the atmosphere, and spread a thick,
whitish veil over the earth, intercepting our view, and leaving
us for some time uncertain if this was not a continuation of the
same plains covered with snow which we had already noticed.  From
these masses of vapour, there seemed more than once during the
night to come a sound as of a great fall of water, or the
contending waves of the sea; and it required all the force of our
reason, joined to our knowledge--such as it was--of the direction
of our route, to repress the idea that we were approaching the
sea, and that, driven by the wind, we had, been carried along the
coasts of the North Sea or the Baltic.  As the day advanced these
apprehensions disappeared.  In place of the unbroken surface of
the sea, we gradually made out the varied features of a
cultivated country, in the midst of which flowed a majestic
river, which lost itself, at both extremities, in the mist that
still lay on the horizon."

This river was the Rhine, and as the neighbourhood seemed
suitable for a descent, and as the travellers did not wish to be
carried too far into the heart of Europe, they allowed a portion
of the gas to escape, came gradually down, and dropped their
anchor.

It was then half-past seven in the morning.  It was only then
that the inhabitants, who had hitherto held themselves aloof,
watching the movements of the strangers from under the brushwood,
began to assemble from all sides.  A few words in German spoken
from the balloon dissipated their fears, and, recovering from
their mistrust, they hastened immediately to lend assistance to
the aeronauts The latter were now informed that the place they
had selected for their descent was in the Duchy of Nassau.  The
town of Wiberg, where Blanchard had descended, after his ascent
at Frankfort in 1785 was, by a singular chance, only two leagues
distant.  The three aeronauts received a most flattering
reception, and, in memory of the event, they placed the flag
which they had borne in their car during their adventurous
excursion in the ducal palace, side by side with that of
Blanchard.

"Thus," says Mason, "terminated an expedition which, whether we
regard the extent of the journey, the length of time occupied in
it, or the results which were the objects of the experiment, may
justly be considered as one of the most interesting and most
important ever undertaken.  The best answer which one could give
to those who would be disposed to criticise the employment of the
peculiar means which we made use of, or to doubt their
efficiency, would be to state that, after having traversed
without hindrance, without either danger or difficulty, so large
a portion of the European continent, we arrived at our
destination still in possession of as much force as, had we
wished it, might have carried us round the whole world."



Chapter IX.  The "Geant" Balloon.

Not a few of our readers will remember the ascent of Nadar's
colossal balloon from Paris, on Sunday, the 18th of October,
1863.  This balloon was remarkable as having attached to it a
regular two-story house for a car.  Its ascent was witnessed by
nearly half a million of persons.  The balloon, after passing
over the eastern part of France, Belgium, and Holland, suffered a
disastrous descent in Hanover the day after it started on its
perilous journey.  It was a fool-hardy enterprise to construct
such a gigantic and unmanageable balloon, presenting such an
immense surface to the atmosphere, and being so susceptible to
adverse aerial currents as to become the helpless prey of the
elements; and it was still more fool-hardy to place the lives of
its passengers at the mercy of such terrible and ungovernable
forces.  A large section of the public laboured under the
delusion that Nadar's balloon was one capable of being steered.
In reality, however, the 'Geant' was unquestionably the most
rebellious and unruly specimen of its class that has been made
since the days of Montgolfier.  The object in view when this
formidable monster was designed and constructed was to create the
means to collect sufficient funds to form a "Free Association for
Aerial Navigation by means of MACHINES HEAVIER THAN AIR," and for
the construction of machines on this principle.  The receipts
from the exhibition of the "Geant" were intended to form the
first capital of the association.  The hopes, however, of the
promoters have not been realised in this respect; for while the
expenses of the construction of the balloon have amounted,
directly and indirectly, to the sum of L8,300, its two ascents in
Paris and its exhibition in London produced only L3,300.

Space forbids us to enter at length on the various stages of the
idea of aerial navigation by means of an apparatus heavier than
the atmosphere.  The idea is not, however, by any means so absurd
as it appears at first sight.  Those who, like Arago, declare
that the word "impossible" does not exist, except in the higher
mathematics, and those who look hopefully to the future instead
of resting content with the past, will join in applauding the
spirit which dictated the manifesto of aerial locomotion to the
founder of the association which we are about to describe.  M.
Babinet, speaking on this subject before the French Polytechnic
Association, said:  "It is absurd to talk of guiding balloons.
How will you set about it?  How is it possible that a
balloon--say, for instance, like the Flesselles, whose diameter
measures 120 feet--can resist and manoeuvre against opposing
winds or currents of air?  It would require a power equal to 400
horses for the sails of a ship to struggle on equal terms with
the wind. Suppose an impossibility, namely, that a balloon could
carry with it a force equal to 400 horse-power; this result would
be of little use, for under the immense weight the fragile
covering of the balloon would instantly collapse.  If all the
horses of a regiment were harnessed to the car of a balloon by
means of a long rope, the result would be that the balloon would
fly into shivers, being too fragile to withstand these two
opposing forces.  Man must seek to raise himself in the air by
another mode of operation altogether, if he wish to guide himself
at the same time.  Some time ago I bought a play thing, very much
in vogue at that time, called a Stropheor.  This toy was composed
of a small rotating screw propeller, which revolved on its own
support when the piece of string wound round it was pulled
sharply.  The screw was rather heavy, weighing nearly a quarter
of a pound, and the wings were of tin, very broad and thick.
This machine, however, was rather too eccentric for parlour use,
for its flight was so violent that it was continually breaking
the pier glass, if there was one in the room; and, failing this,
it next attacked the windows.  The ascending force of this
machine is so great that I have seen one of them fly over Antwerp
Cathedral, which is one of the highest edifices in the world.
The air from underneath the machine is exhausted by the action of
the screw, which, passing under the wings, causes a vacuum, while
the air above it replenishes and fills this void, and under the
influence of these two causes  the apparatus mounts from the
earth.  But the problem is not solved by means of this plaything,
whose motive power is exterior to it.  Messrs. Nadar, Ponton,
D'Amecourt, and De la Landelle teach us better than this,
although the wings of their different models are entirely
unworthy of men who desire to demonstrate a truth to short-lived
mortals.  We have only arrived as yet at the infancy of the
process, but we have made a good beginning, for, having once
proved that a machine capable of raising itself in the air,
wholly unaided from without, can be made, we have overcome with
this apparently small result the whole difficulty.  The principle
of propulsion by means of a screw is by no means a novelty.  It
was first utilised in windmills, whose sails are nothing more nor
less than an immense screw which is turned by the action of the
wind on its surface.  In the case of turbine water-wheels, where
perhaps 970 cubic feet of water are utilised by means of a
mechanism not larger than a hat, we see another illustration of
it, with this difference, that water takes the place of wind as
the motive power.

"The aerial screw is beset with great difficulties, but if we can
succeed through its agency in raising even the smallest weight,
we may be confident of being able to raise a heavier one, for a
large machine is always more powerful in proportion to its size
than a small one.

"Mlle. Garnerin once made a bet that she would guide herself in
her descent from a considerable altitude towards a fixed spot on
the earth at some distance, with no other help than the
parachute; and she was really able to guide herself to within a
few feet of the specified spot, by simply altering the
inclination of the parachute.

"From observations in mountainous districts, where large birds of
prey may be seen to the best advantage hovering with outstretched
wings, I have come to the conclusion that they first of all
attain the requisite height and then, extending their wings in
the form of a parachute, let themselves glide gradually towards
the desired spot.  Marshal Niel confirms this opinion by his
experience in the mountains of Algeria.  It is, therefore, clear
from these examples that we should possess the power of
transporting ourselves from place to place if we could only
discover a means of raising a weight perpendicularly in the air,
which would then act as a capital of power, only requiring to be
expended at will."

From the foregoing remarks we may gather an idea of the
importance which may be attached to aerial locomotion
notwithstanding the successive failures of all those who have
hitherto taken up the subject.  We come now to the description of
the memorable ascent of the 'Geant.'

We learn from the very interesting account of the 'Geant,'
published at the time, all the mishaps and adventures it outlived
from the time of the first stitch in its covering to its final
inflation with gas.  We must, however, be content to take up the
narrative at the point at which the 'Geant,' with thirteen
passengers on board, had, in obedience to the order to "let go,"
been released from the bonds which held it to the earth.  The
narrative is, as our readers will perceive, written in somewhat
exaggerated language:--

"The 'Geant' gave an almost imperceptible shake on finding itself
free, and then commenced to rise.  The ascent was slow and
gradual at first--the monster seemed to be feeling its way.  An
immense shout rose with it from the assembled multitude.  We
ascended grandly, whilst the deafening clamour of two hundred
thousand voices seemed to increase.  We leant over the edge of
the car, and gazed at the thousands of faces which were turned
towards us from every point of the vast plain, in every
conceivable angle of which we were the common apex.  We still
ascended.  The summits of the double row of trees which surround
the Champ de Mars were already under us.  We reached the level of
the cupola of the Military School.  The tremendous uproar still
reached us.  We glided over Paris in an easterly direction, at
the height of about six hundred feet.  Every one took up the best
possible position on the six light cane stools, and on the two
long bunks at either end of the car, and contemplated the
marvellous panorama spread out under us, of which we never grew
weary.

"There is never any dizziness in a balloon, as is often
erroneously supposed, for in it you are the only point in space
without any possibility of comparison with another, and therefore
the means of becoming giddy are not at hand.

A very experienced aeronaut, who numbers his ascents by hundreds,
has assured me that he never knew of a single case of dizziness.

"The earth seems to unfold itself to our view like an immense and
variegated map, the predominant colour of which is green in all
its shades and tints.  The irregular division of the country into
fields made it resemble a patchwork counterpane.  The size of the
houses, churches, fortresses, was so considerably diminished as
to make them resemble nothing so much as those playthings
manufactured at Carlsruhe.  This was the effect produced by a
microscopic train, which whistled very faintly to attract our
attention, and which seemed to creep along at a snail's pace,
though doubtless going at the rate of thirty miles an hour, and
was enveloped in a minute cloud of smoke.  What a lasting
impression this microscopic neatness makes on us!  What is that
white puff I see down there?  the smoke of a cigar?  No: it is a
cloud of mist.  It must be a perfect plain that we are looking
at, for we cannot distinguish between the different altitudes of
a bramble-bush and an oak a hundred years old!

"It is one of the delights of an aeronaut to gaze on the familiar
scenes of earth from the immense height of the car of a balloon!
What earthly pleasure can compare with this! Free, calm, silent,
roving through this immense and hospitable space, where no human
form can harm me, I despise every evil power; I can feel the
pleasure of existence for the first time, for I am in full
possession, as on no other occasion, of perfect health of mind
and body.  The aeronauts of the 'Geant' will scarcely condescend
to pity those miserable mortals whom they can only faintly
recognise by their gigantic works, which appear to them not more
dignified than ant-hills!

"The sun had already set behind the purple horizon in our rear.
The atmosphere was still quite clear round the 'Geant,' although
there was a thick haze underneath, through which we could
occasionally see lights glimmering from the earth.  We had
attained a sufficient altitude to be only just able to hear
noises from villages that we left beneath us, and were beginning
to enjoy the delicious calm and repose peculiar to aerial
ascents.

"There is, however, a talk about dinner, or rather supper, and
night is now fast approaching.  Every one eats with the best
possible appetite.  Hams, fowls and dessert only appear to
disappear with an equal promptitude, and we quench our thirst
with bordeaux and champagne.  I remind our companions of the
pigeons we brought with us, and which are hanging in a cage
outside the railing.  I knew there was no danger of their flying
away, so fearlessly opened the cage.  The three or four birds I
had put in the car seemed struck with terror.  They flew
awkwardly towards the centre of our party, tumbling among the
plates and dishes and under our feet.  It was not a case of
hunger with them, and I ought to have remembered that their
feeding time was long since past.  I replaced them in their cage.

"Meanwhile, the sun has left us for some time.  Our longing gaze
followed it behind the dark clouds in the horizon, whose edges it
tipped with a glorious purple.  Its last rays shone on us, and
then came a bluish-grey twilight.  Suddenly we are enveloped in a
dense fog.  We look around, above us.  Everything has disappeared
in the mist.  The balloon itself is no longer visible.  We can
see nothing except the ropes which suspend us, and these are only
visible for a few feet above our heads, when they lose themselves
in the fog.  We are alone with our wickerwork house in an
unfathomable vault.

"We still ascend, however, through the compact and terrible fog,
which is so solid-looking as to seem capable of being carved into
forms with a knife.  As we were without a moon, and had no light
at all, in fact, we were unable to distinguish nicely the
different shades of colour in these thick clouds.  Now and then,
when the clouds seemed to be lighter, they had a bluish tinge;
but the thicker ones were dirty and muddy-looking.  Dante must
have seen some like these.

"Water trickled down our faces, hands, and clothes, and the ropes
and sides of our car.

"The water did not fall in rain-drops or in flakes, as it
sometimes does in the tropics; but we were as completely
saturated by this heavy, penetrating mist as if we had been under
a waterfall.  We still continued to traverse these rainy regions.
The thick fog which the balloon dislodged in forcing a passage
closed immediately after it.  At one moment I thought I felt
something press against my cheek, which could only be compared to
the points of a thousand needles, or to floating particles of
ice.  We were all of us too much absorbed with our situation to
think of the hour or of the height to which we had attained.
Suddenly the Prince of Wittgenstein, who was standing at my left
hand, cried out under his breath--

"'Look at the balloon, sir! look at the balloon!'

"I raised my eyes, in company with several others, and shall
never forget the magnificent sight which awaited them. I saw the
balloon, for which I had been searching in vain a few minutes
before.  It had undergone a transformation .  It looked now as if
coated with silver, and floating in a pale phosphorescent
glimmer.  All the ropes and cords seemed to be of new, bright,
and liquid silver, like mercury, caused by the mist which had
rested on them becoming suddenly congealed.  Two luminous arcs
intervened between us, in a sea of mother-of-pearl and opal, the
lower one being the colour of red ochre and the upper one orange.
Both of them, blinding in their brilliancy, seemed about to
embrace one another.

"'How far are they off?' thought I to myself. 'Can I touch them
with my hand, or are they separated from me by an immense space?'
We are not capable of forming ideas of perspective, floating as
we are in the midst of such a glimmering splendour.

"Above and around us are nothing but thick fogs and enormous
black clouds, whose ragged edges and backs are relieved by a pale
silver coating.  They undulate ceaselessly to and fro, and either
usurp quietly the place of others, or disappear only to be
superseded by more formidable ones.  But the last ray of
reflected light has died out, and we plunge into this chaos of
dreadful forms.  Monsters seem to wish to approach us, and to
envelop us in their dark embraces.  One of them, on my right
hand, looks like a deformed human arm in a menacing attitude,
writhing its jagged top like a blind serpent feeling its way.
The vague monster has disappeared; but the momentary splendour
being followed by the original gloom, we plunge once more into a
darkness that can be felt.

"The water which had collected on the balloon during its ascent
now began to take effect, and caused it to descend with such
rapidity into the dark abyss that the ballast, which was
immediately thrown overboard, was overtaken in its descent and
fell on our heads again

"I hear exclamations and voices near me.  My companions are
evidently agitated, and with good reason, too; for the lights
which we could see a long way below us approach with terrible
rapidity.  We reached the earth rather quicker than we left it.

"Suddenly we feel a dreadful shock, followed by ominous
crackings. The car has grounded.  The 'Geant' has made its
descent.  But in what part of the habitable globe, and under what
zone?  At Meaux!"

To employ an expression of M. Nadar's it seems that these
gentlemen never before experienced such a "knock-down blow."

After all these preparations, all this trouble, all the energy
employed in the undertaking--sufficient, indeed, wherewith to
attempt to cross the Atlantic--to "descend at Meaux!"

The 'Geant,' however, had its revenge.  Its second ascent gave it
this revenge.  We shall be as brief as possible in relating this
voyage; but the details are all so very interesting that we
regret extremely our being unable to give more than extracts from
the narrative.

Our travellers committed themselves again to the mercy of the
air.  The Emperor, following the example of a former King of
France, took considerable interest in the construction of this
aerial monster, and wished the aeronaut "Bon voyage" at starting.
The passengers endeavoured to pass the night as comfortably as
possible, having first instituted a four hours' watch, as on
board ship.

The aerial vessel glided rapidly through the air.  "We
repeatedly," said Nadar, "passed over some manufacturing centre,
whose lights were not yet extinguished.  I either hailed them
with my speaking-trumpet or rang our two bells. Sometimes we
received a reply from below, in the shape of a shout, for,
although we still had no moon, the night was occasionally clear
enough for people to distinguish us; and sometimes we heard a
peal of laughter from out of the atmosphere in which we were
travelling.  It was another party of aeronauts in a smaller
balloon, who left at the same time as we did, and who would
persist in keeping the 'Geant' company.  We are passing over a
small town; we hear the usual shouting and the report of a gun.
Our first thoughts are--Was it loaded with shot or ball?  The
inhuman brute who fired will say, 'Certainly not;' but as
balloons have often been damaged in this way, we may be confident
there was more than powder in this one.  It would be
satisfactory, at any rate, if the name of the person could be
ascertained who favoured us with this welcome.  But it is rather
late to make inquiries on this subject.  It was between a quarter
and half-past nine o'clock when this occurred.  'The sea!' cried
Jules; 'look at the revolving lights of the lighthouses.  There:
one has just disappeared: it will flash out again in a moment!'
But what is this?  Before us, as far as our eyes can reach, we
distinguish faint lights, which in this case are neither lamps
nor torches.  As we continue to draw nearer we get a better view
of these numerous, violent, and smoking furnaces.  Loud and
ringing sounds strike on our ear at the same time.  Am I right in
my conjectures?  Is this not that splendid country I love more
than ever now?  It must be Erquelines!  And the dignified
Custom-house official, had it been possible, would have added
thereto 'Belgium!'

"We still continue to pass over fires, forges, tall chimneys, and
coal mines at frequent intervals.  Not long after we distinguish
a large town on our right hand, which, by its size and brilliant
lighting by gas, we recognise as Brussels.  There could be no
mistake, for close by, more modest in size and appearance, we see
Catholic Malines.  We have left it behind us.

"Onward!  Onward!  Behind us the fires fade gradually away, and
disappear one after anopther.  Before us nothing at present
visible.  We seemed to drift on for about one hundred or one
hundred and fifty yards more.  We cannot distinguish a single
point in front of us on which to fix our gaze.  But we still
continue our course in silence.

"This mournful darkness, this endless shroud, in which we can
discover neither rent nor spangle, still continues.  Where are
we?  Over what strange country, possessing neither cities, towns,
nor villages, are we hovering in the tomb-like silence of this
interminable darkness?  We seem, indeed, to have been carried by
a puff of wind towards the west.

"But something seems to approach us.  What are those pale rays of
light which we can faintly see a long, long way before us--rays
pale and soft, quite unlike those flaming fires we have left
behind us?  Surely these do not denote the presence of human
activity!  As we continue to advance, these pale flakes of
light--resembling nothing so much in appearance as molten
lead--which at first were scanty and isolated, gradually expand,
and leave only narrow strips of darkness to divide them into
fantastic shapes.  By their help we discovered we were passing
over the immense marshes of Holland, which extended to and lost
themselves in the hazy horizon.  On our right hand we hear a deep
moan, still distant, but rapidly approaching every moment. It is
undoubtedly the rushing of the wind.  A fresh breeze for five
minutes would bring us to the sea.

"We experienced another shock not less formidable than the first.
The 'Geant' is trembling from its effects.  The cable of our
first anchor has just broken like a piece of thread.  We could
not hope for a better result.  The violence of the wind which is
carrying us along seems to be redoubled.  A bump: another and
another--then shock after shock.

"'The second dead men!'

"Our swift pace was shock after shock.

"'The anchor is lost,' cries Jules; 'we are all dead men!

"This truth is too palpable to all of us to require expressing in
so many words, for we are just commencing that furious, tearing
course called 'trailing.'

"Our swift pace was considerably accelerated by the lower part of
the balloon, which--limp, empty, and forming nearly a third of
the whole--had been set free at the first shock, and flapped
against the distended part, acting as a sail.  The shocks
continued to multiply so fast that it was impossible to count
them.  The car continued to rebound from these shocks to the
height of five, ten, sometimes thirty, forty, and even fifty
feet, for all the world like an India-rubber ball from the hands
of an indefatigable player.  Unfortunately, all our human
freight, terror stricken and without advice, had crowded into one
side of the car; and as this happened to be the side on which we
invariably bumped, we experienced all the worst effects of the
joltings.

"What a dizzy whirl!  What a succession of breathless shocks!
What a strain on both muscles and nerves!  By the least
negligence or slip, or by the loss of presence of mind for one
moment, we should have been thrown out and dashed to atoms.

"Every collision tries our muscles and strains our wrists or our
shoulders; and every rebound dashes us one against the other,
constituting each individual a tormentor and victim at the same
time.  Our flight is so rapid that we can only distinguish an
occasional glimpse of anything.  Far, far in the distance we
distinguish an isolated tree.  We approach it like lightning, and
we break it as though it were a straw.

"Two terrified horses, with manes and tails erect, endeavour to
fly from us.  But we consume distances; we leave them behind
immediately. We skip over a flock of affrighted sheep in one of
our bounds.  But now comes the real danger.

"At this moment, when we were perfectly benumbed with fear, and
had lost all power of articulation, we saw a locomotive, drawing
two carriages, running along an embankment at right angles to our
course.  A few more revolutions of the wheels, and it will be all
over with us, for we seem to be fated to meet with geometrical
precision at one spot!

"What will happen?

"Travelling at our present hurricane pace, we shall undoubtedly
lift up and overturn the machine and what it is drawing.  But
shall we not be crushed ourselves?  A few paces still intervene
between us and our foe, and we give vent to a shout of terror.

"It is heard, and the locomotive answers it by a whistle, then
slackens its pace, and after seeming to hesitate an instant backs
quickly and only just in time to give us a free passage, whilst
the driver, waving his cap, salutes us with--

"'Look out for the wires!'

"The caution was well timed, for we had not noticed the four
telegraph wires which we rapidly approached.  We energetically
ducked our heads on seeing them, but fortunately we escaped any
more damage than having two or three of our ropes cut.  These we
continued to drag after us like the tail of a ragged comet,
having the telegraph-wires and the posts which lately supported
them attached to us."

After having been dragged thus for some time at the mercy of a
hurricane which they ought to have been able to avoid, these
aerial navigators at last got entangled in the outskirts of a
wood near Rethem, in Hanover.  A few broken arms and legs paid
for their temerity in meddling with this monster, and one and all
of the passengers have reason to be thankful that it will be
unnecessary for us to proclaim their virtues and their fate in
our next chapter.



Chapter X.  The Necrology of Aeronautic

We will conclude this second part by giving a brief notice of
some of those who, in the early days of aerostation, fell martyrs
to their devotion to the new cause, and sometimes victims to
their own want of foresight and their inexperience.

First among these is Pilatre des Roziers, with whose courage and
ingenuity our readers are already familiar.  After the passage of
Blanchard from England over to France this hero, who was the
first to trust himself to the wide space of the sky, resolved to
undertake the return voyage from France to England--a more
difficult feat, owing to the generally adverse character of the
winds and currents.  In vain did Roziers' friends attempt to make
him understand the perils to which this enterprise must expose
him; his only reply was that he had discovered a new balloon
which united in itself all the necessary conditions of security,
and would permit the voyager to remain an unusually long time in
the air.  He asked and obtained from government the sum of 40,000
livres, in order to construct his machine.  It then became clear
what sort of balloon he had contrived.  He united in one machine
the two modes previously made use of in aerostation.  Underneath
a balloon filled with hydrogen gas, he suspended a Montgolfiere,
or a balloon filled with hot air from a fire.  It is difficult to
understand what was his precise object in making this
combination, for his ideas seem to have been confused upon the
subject.  It is probable that, by the addition of a Montgolfiere,
he wished to free himself from the necessity of having to throw
over ballast when he wished to ascend and to let off this gas
when he wished to descend.  The fire of the Montgolfiere might,
he probably supposed, be so regulated as to enable him to rise or
fall at will.

This mixed system has been justly blamed.  It was simply "putting
fire beside powder," said Professor Charles to Roziers; but the
latter would not listen, and depended for everything on his own
intrepidity and scientific skill of which he had already given so
many proofs.  There were, perhaps, other reasons for his
unyielding obstinacy.  The court that had furnished him with the
funds for the construction of the balloon pressed him, and he
himself was most ambitious to equal the achievement of Blanchard,
who was the first to cross the Channel, on the 7th of January,
1785.

The fact was that at this time the prevailing fear in France was,
that Great Britain should bear off all the honours and profits of
aerostation before any of these had been won by France.  It was
thus that with an untried machine, and under conditions the most
unfavourable for his enterprise, Roziers prepared to risk his
life in this undertaking, which was equally dangerous and
useless.

The double balloon was alternately inflated and emptied.  While
under cover it was assailed by the rats that gnawed holes in it,
and when brought out of its place it was exposed to the tempests,
so that the longer the experiment was delayed, the worse chance
there was of getting through it successfully.  At length Roziers
went to Boulogne, and announced the day of his departure; but, as
if by a special Providence, his attempt was delayed by
unfavourable weather.  For many weeks in succession the little
trial balloons thrown up to show the course of the wind were
driven back upon the shores of France.  During all these trials
the impatient Roziers continued to chafe and torment himself.

At last, on the 13th and 14th of June, 1785, the
Aero-Montgolfiere remained inflated, waiting a favourable moment
for departure.  On the 15th at four in the morning, a little
pilot balloon that had been thrown up fell back on the spot from
which it had been thrown free, thus showing that there was no
wind.  Seven hours later Roziers, accompanied by his brother
Romain, one of the constructors of the balloon, appeared in the
gallery.  A nobleman present threw a purse of 200 louis into the
car, and was preparing to follow it and join in the adventure.
Roziers forbade him to enter, gently but firmly.

"The experiment is too unsafe," he said, "for me to expose to
danger the life of another."

"Finally," says a narrative of the time, "the Aero-Montgolfiere
rose in an imposing manner.  The sound of cannon signalised the
departure, the voyagers saluted the crowd, who responded with
loud shouts.  The balloon advanced until it began to traverse the
sea, and every one with eyes fixed upon the fragile machine,
regarded it with fear.  It had traversed upwards of a league of
its journey, and had reached the height of 700 feet above sea
level, when a wind from the west drove it back toward the shore,
after having been twenty-seven minutes in the air.

"At this moment the crowd beneath perceived that the voyagers
were showing signs of alarm. They seemed suddenly to lower the
grating of the Montgolfiere.  But it was too late.  A violet
flame appeared at the top of the balloon, then spread over the
whole globe, and enveloped the Montgolfiere and the voyagers.
"The unfortunate men were suddenly precipitated from the clouds
to the earth, in front of the Tour de Croy, upwards of a league
from Boulogne, and 300 feet from the sea beach.

"The dead body of Roziers was found burnt in the gallery, many of
the bones being broken.  His brother was still breathing, but he
was not able to speak, and in a few minutes he expired."

De Maisonfort, who, against his own will, was left on the earth,
was witness of this sad event.  He has given the following
explanation of it:--

"Some minutes after their departure the voyagers were assailed by
contrary winds, which drove them back again upon the land.  It is
probable that then, in order to descend and seek a more
favourable current of air, which would take them out again to
sea, Roziers opened the valve of the gas balloon; but the cord
attached to this valve was very long, it worked with difficulty,
and the friction which it occasioned tore the valve.  The stuff
of the balloon, which had suffered much from many preliminary
attempts, and from other causes, was torn to the extent of
several yards, and the valve fell down inside the balloon, which
at once emptied itself."

According to this narrative, there was no conflagration of the
gas in the middle of the atmosphere, nor is it stated precisely
whether the grating of the Montgolfiere was lighted.

Maisonfort ran to the spot when the travellers fell, found them
covered with the cloth of the balloon, and occupying the same
positions which they had taken up on departing.

By a sad chance, that seems like irony, they were thrown down
only a few paces from the monument which marks the spot where
Blanchard descended.  At the present day Frenchmen going to
England via Calais do not fail to visit at the forest of Guines
the monument consecrated to the expedition of Blanchard.  A few
paces from this monument the cicerone will point out with his
finger the spot where his rivals expired.

"Such was the end of the first of aeronauts, and the most
courageous  of men," says a contemporaneous historian.  "He died
a martyr to honour and to zeal.  His kindness, amiability, and
modesty endeared him to all who knew him.  She who was dearest to
him--a young English lady, who boarded at a convent at Boulogne,
and whom he had first met only a few days prior to his last
ascent--could not support the news of his death.  Horrible
convulsions seized her and she expired, it is said, eight days
after the dreadful catastrophe.  Roziers died at the age of
twenty-eight and a half years."

Olivari perished at Orleans on the 25th of November, 1802.  He
had ascended in a Montgolfiere made of paper, strengthened only
by some bands of cloth.  His car, made of osiers, and loaded with
combustible matter, was suspended below the grating; and when at
a great elevation it became the prey of the flames.  The
aeronaut, thus deprived of his support, fell, at the distance of
a league from the spot from which he had risen.

Mosment made his last ascent at Lille on the 7th of April, 1806.
His balloon was made of silk, and was filled with hydrogen gas.
Ten minutes after his departure he threw into the air a parachute
with which he had provided himself.  It is supposed that the
oscillations consequent on the throwing off of the parachute were
the cause of they aeronaut's fall.  Some pretend that Mosment had
foretold his death, and that it was caused by a willful
carelessness. However this may be, the balloon continued its
flight alone, and the body of the aeronaut was found partly
buried in the sand of the fosse which surrounds the town.

Bittorff made a great many successful ascents.  He never used any
machine but the Montgolfiere.  At Manheim, on the 17th of July,
the day of his death his balloon, which was of paper, sixteen
metres in diameter, and twenty in height, took fire in the air,
and the aeronaut was thrown down upon the town.  His fall was
mortal.

Harris, an old officer of the English navy, together with another
English aeronaut, named Graham, had made a great many ascents.
He conceived the idea of constructing a balloon upon an original
plan; but his alterations do not seem to have been improvements.
In May, 1824, he attempted an ascent from London, which had much
apparent success, but which terminated fatally.  When at a great
elevation, it seems, the aeronaut, wishing to descend, opened the
valve.  It had not been well constructed, and after being opened
it would not close again.  The consequent loss of gas brought the
balloon down with great force.  Harris lost his life with the
fall; but the young lady who had accompanied him received only a
trifling wound.

Sadler, a celebrated English aeronaut, who, in one of his many
experiments, had crossed the Irish Channel between Dublin and
Holyhead, lost his life miserably near Bolton, on the 28th of
September, 1824.  Deprived of his ballast, in consequence of his
long sojourn in the air, and forced at last to descend, at a late
hour, upon a number of high buildings, the wind drove him
violently against a chimney.  The force of the shock threw him
out of his car, and he fell to the earth and died.  His prudence
and knowledge were unquestionable, and his death is to be
ascribed alone to accident.  It was an aerial shipwreck.

Cocking had gone up twice in Mr. Green's balloon as a simple
amateur.  He took it into his head to go up a third time.  He
wished to attempt a descent in a parachute of his own
construction, which he believed was vastly superior to the
ordinary one.  He altered the form altogether, though that form
had been proved to be satisfactory.  In place of a concave
surface, supporting itself on a volume of air, Cocking used an
inverted cone, of an elaborate construction, which, instead of
supporting him in the air, only accelerated his fall.  Unhappily,
Green participated in this experiment.  The two made an ascent
from Vauxhall, on the 27th of September, 1836, Green having
suspended Cocking's wretched contrivance from the car of his
balloon.  Cocking held on by a rope, and at the height of from
1,000 to 1,200 feet the amateur, with his patent parachute, were
thrown off from the balloon.  A moment afterwards Green was
soaring away safely in his machine, but Cocking was launched into
eternity.

"The descent was so rapid," says one who witnessed it, "that the
mean rate of the fall was not less than twenty yards a second.
In less than a minute and a half the unfortunate aeronaut was
thrown to the earth, and killed by the fall."

Madame Blanchard, thinking to improve upon Garnerin, who had
decorated the balloon which ascended in celebration of the
coronation of Napoleon I. with coloured lights, fixed fireworks
instead to hers.  A wire rope ten yards long was suspended to her
car; at the bottom of this wire rope was suspended a broad disc
of wood, around which the fireworks were ranged.  These consisted
of Bengal and coloured lights.  On the 6th of July, 1819, there
was a great fete at Tivoli, and a multitude had assembled around
the balloon of Madame Blanchard.  Cannon gave the signal of
departure, and soon the fireworks began to show themselves.  The
balloon rose splendidly, to the sound of music and the shoutings
of the people.  A rain of gold and thousands of stars fell from
the car as it ascended.  A moment of calm succeeded, and then to
the eyes of the spectators, still fixed on the balloon, an
unexpected light appeared.  This light did not come from under
the balloon, where the crown of fireworks was already
extinguished, but shone in the car itself.  It was evident that
the lady aeronaut, although now so high above the spectators, was
busy about something.  The light increased, then disappeared
suddenly; then appeared again, and showed itself finally at the
summit of the balloon, in the form of an immense jet of gas.  The
gas with which the balloon was inflated had taken fire, and the
terrible glare which the light threw around was perceived from
the boulevards, and all the Quartier Montmartre.

It was at this moment--a frightful one for those who perceived
what had taken place--that a general sentiment of satisfaction
and admiration among the spectators found vent in cries of
"Brava! Vive Madame Blanchard!" &c.  The people thought the lady
was giving them an unexpected treat.  Meantime, by the light of
the flame, the balloon was seen gradually to descend.  It
disappeared when it reached the houses, like a passing meteor, or
a train of fire which a blast of wind suddenly extinguishes.  A
number of workmen and other persons, who had perceived that some
accident had taken place, ran in the direction in which the
balloon appeared to descend.  They arrived at a house in the Rue
de Provence.  On the roof of this house the balloon had fallen,
and the unfortunate Madame Blanchard, thrown out of the car by
the shock, was killed by her fall to the earth.

This news spread rapidly from Tivoli, where it occasioned a
stupefying surprise.  It was the first time that a fall of the
kind had taken place from the sky at Paris.  Fireworks were from
this time discontinued, the fete came to an end, and a
subscription was rapidly organised, producing some thousands of
francs, which shortly afterwards were employed in erecting a
monument to the lady, which is now to be seen in the cemetery of
Pere-la-Chaise.

Madame Blanchard had wished to surpass the ordinary spectacle of
an aerial ascent; she had really prepared a SURPRISE for the
spectators. She had prepared and she took with her a small
parachute of about two yards in diameter.  After the extinction
of the crown or star of fireworks, she intended to throw this
little parachute loose; and as it was terminated by another
supply of fireworks, it was supposed that the effect would be as
beautiful as surprising.

The unhappy lady was small in stature, and very light, and
unfortunately made use of a very small balloon.  That of the 6th
of July, 1819, was only seven metres in diameter; and to make it
ascend with the weight it carried it had to be filled to the neck
with inflammable air.  In quitting the earth some of this gas
escaped, and rising above the balloon, formed a train like one of
powder, which would certainly flash into a blaze the moment it
came in contact with the fire.  But on this day it was she who
with her own hand fired this train.  At the moment when,
detaching the little parachute from her car, she took the light
for the fireworks in her other hand, she crossed this train with
the light and set it on fire.  Then the brave woman, throwing
away the parachute and the match, strove to close the mouth of
the balloon, and to stifle the fire.  These efforts being
unavailing, Madame Blanchard was distinctly seen to sit down in
her car and await her fate.

The burning of the hydrogen lasted several minutes, during which
time the balloon gradually descended.  Had it not been that it
struck on the roof of the house Madame Blanchard would have been
saved.  At the moment of the shock she was heard to cry out, "A
moi." These were her last words.  The car, going along the roof
of the house, was caught by an iron bar and overturned, and the
lady was thrown head foremost upon the pavement.

When she reached the ground she immediately expired.  Her head
and shoulders were slightly burnt, otherwise she exhibited no
marks of the fire which had destroyed the balloon.



PART III.  Scientific Experiments--Applications of Ballooning.

Chapter I.  Experiments of Robertson, Lhoest, Saccarof, &c.

Robertson is regarded by many as a sort of mountebank; yet such
men as Arago have put themselves to the trouble of examining the
aerostatic feats of this aeronaut, and of examining the results
of his observations.

"The savant Robertson," says Arago, "performed at Hamburg on the
18th of July, 1803, with his countryman, Lhoest, the first
aeronautic voyage from which science has been able to draw useful
deductions. The two aeronauts remained suspended in the air
during five hours, and came down near Hanover, twenty-five
leagues from the spot from which they set off."

The first time that Robertson appears in the annals of
aerostation is in 1802, on the occasion of the sale of the
balloon used at the battle of Fleurus, of which mention will be
made in the chapter on military aerostation.  But three years
previously he had been instructed to make a balloon of an
original form, which should ascend in honour of the Turkish
ambassador at the garden of Tivoli. The fete was completely
successful.  Turks, Chinese, Persians, and Bedouins will always
be welcome, as on this occasion, at Paris, appearing as they do
only at rare intervals, and for a short time.

The fete took place on the 2nd of July.  Robertson presented
himself at the house of Esseid-Ali, to obtain his autograph.  The
Turkish ambassador willingly granted the request, and wrote his
name in letters, each of which was two inches in height, on a
sheet of paper.  He then offered the aeronaut coffee and comfits,
and promised to be present to witness the balloon ascent.  His
name was painted in large characters on a balloon fifteen feet in
diameter, and on the form of which was the figure of a crescent.
The experiment delighted the ambassador, and was well received by
the public.

Jacques Garnerin, when he came to make his debut as an aeronaut,
made an attempt with the parachute, the following August, at the
garden of the Hotel de Biron.  The ambassador was asked to honour
the fete, but he declined, saying that he had "made up his mind
that man was not intended for flying--Mahomet had not so willed
it."

Of one of Robertson's more interesting ascents he himself has
left us the following sketch:--

"I rose in the balloon at nine a.m., accompanied by my
fellow-student and countryman, M. Lhoest.  We had 140 lbs. of
ballast. The barometer marked twenty-eight inches; the
thermometer sixteen degrees Reaumur.  In spite of some slight
wind from the north-west, the balloon mounted so perpendicularly
that in all the streets each of the spectators believed we were
mounting straight up above his head.  In order to quicken our
ascent I discharged a parachute made of silk, and weighted in a
way to prevent oscillations.  The parachute descended at the rate
of two feet per second, and its descent was uniform. From the
moment when the barometer began to sink we became very careful of
our ballast, as we wished to test from experience the different
temperatures through which we were about to pass.

"At 10.15, the barometer was at nineteen inches, and the
thermometer at three above zero.  We now felt all the
inconvenience of an extremely rarefied atmosphere coming upon us,
and we commenced to arrange some experiments in atmospheric
electricity.  Our first attempts did not succeed.  We threw over
part of our ballast, and mounted up till the cold and the
rarefaction of the air became very troublesome.  During our
experiments we experienced an illness throughout our whole
system. Buzzing in the cars commenced, and went on increasing.
The pain we felt was like that which one feels when he plunges
his head in water.  Our chests seemed to be dilated, and failed
in elasticity.  My pulse was quickened, M. Lhoest's became
slower; he had, like me, swelled lips and bleeding eyes; the
veins seemed to come out more strongly on the hands. The blood
ran to the head, and occasioned a feeling as if our hats were too
tight. The thermometer continued to descend, and, as we ascended,
our illness increased, and we could with difficulty keep awake.
Fearing that my travelling companion might go to sleep, I
attached a cord to my thigh and to ]his, and we held the
extremities of the cord in our hands.  Thus trammelled, we had to
commence the experiments which I had proposed to make.

"At this elevation, the glass, the brimstone, and the Spanish wax
were not electrified in a manner to show any signs under
friction--at least, I obtained no electricity from the conductors
or the electrometer.

"I had in my car a voltaic pile, consisting of sixty
couples--silver and zinc.  It worked very well on the occasion of
our departure from the earth, and gave, without the condenser,
one degree to the electrometer.  At our great elevation, the pile
gave only five-sixths of a degree to the same electrometer.  The
galvanic flame seemed more active at this elevation than on the
earth.

"I took two birds with me on coming into the balloon--one of
these was now dead, the other appeared stupefied.  After having
placed it upon the brink of the gondola, I tried to frighten it
to make it take to flight.  It moved its wings, but did not leave
the spot; then I left it to itself, and it fell perpendicularly
and with great rapidity.  Birds are certainly not able to
maintain themselves at such elevations.

"It is notable that the atmosphere, which was of a perfect purity
near the earth, was grey and misty above our heads, and the
beautiful blue sky seen from the surface did not exist for us,
although the weather was calm and serene, and the day the most
beautiful that could be.  The sun did not seem dazzling to us,
and its heat was diminished owing to our elevation.

"At half-past eleven, the balloon was no longer visible from
Hamburg.  The heavens were so pure beneath us that everything was
distinctly seen by us, though very much diminished by distance.
At 11.40, the town of Hamburg seemed only a red point in our
eyes; the Elbe looked like a straight ribbon.  I wished to make
use of an opera-glass, but what surprised me was that when I
lifted it up it was so cold that I had to wrap my handkerchief
around it to enable me to hold it.

"Not being able to support our position any longer, we descended,
after having used up much gas and ballast.  Our descent caused
that degree of terror among the inhabitants which the size of our
balloon was calculated to inspire in a country where such
machines had never before been seen.  We descended above a poor
village called Radenburg, a place amid the heaths of Hanover.
Our appearance caused great alarm, and even the beasts of the
field fled from us.

"While our balloon rapidly approached the earth, we waved our
hats and flags, and shouted to the inhabitants, but our voices
only increased their terror.  The villagers rushed away with
cries of terror, leaving their herds, whose bellowings increased
the general alarm. When the balloon touched the ground, every man
had shut himself up in his own house.  Having appealed in vain,
and fearing that the villagers might do us some injury, we
resolved to re-ascend.

"In making this second ascent, we threw over all our ballast; but
in this we were imprudent, for after sailing about at a great
height, and having lost much gas, I perceived that our descent
would be very rapid, and to provide against accident, I gathered
together all the instruments, the bread, the ropes, and even such
money as we had with us, and placed them in three sacks, to which
I attached a rope of a hundred feet in length.  This precaution
saved us a shock.  The weight, amounting to thirty pounds,
reached the ground before us, and the balloon, thus lightened,
came softly to the ground between Wichtenbech and Hanover, after
having run twenty-five leagues in five and a half hours."

After this ascent Robertson became acquainted with some savants
of Hamburg, and amongst others with Professor Pfaff, who was
interested in aerial travelling as a means of settling certain
meteorological problems.  Some days after Robertson's ascent, the
professor wrote to him--

"You speak of a certain height at which the hydrogen gas will
find itself in equilibrium in the air of the atmosphere.  I
believe that this height is the extremity of the atmosphere
itself; for as the gas has an elasticity much greater than that
of the air, it will go on dilating as it mounts into the higher
regions of the atmosphere, and its specific weight will diminish
as the weight of atmospheric air diminishes; and it will not
cease to mount until it rises above the atmosphere itself, if two
conditions be completely fulfilled--1, the condition that the gas
may be allowed to dilate without leaving the balloon as it rises;
2, the condition that the gas shall not be allowed to mix at all
with the atmospheric air."

Another ascent was arranged for the 14th of August, in which
Robertson was to be accompanied by the professor, but the latter,
yielding to the entreaties of his family, did not go.  "I went up
with my friend Lhoest," says Robertson, "at forty-two minutes
past twelve midday.  In a minute or two we rose up between two
masses of cloud, which seemed to open up and offer us a passage.
The upper surfaces of these clouds are not uniformly level, like
the under sides seen from the earth, but they are of a conical or
pyramidal shape.  These imposing masses seem to precipitate
themselves upon the earth, as if to engulf it, but this optical
illusion was due to the apparent immobility of the balloon, which
at the moment was rising at the rate of about twenty feet per
second.

"The fear of losing the view of the Baltic, which we perceived
between the clouds at intervals, obliged us to renounce the
project of rising as high as on the last occasion.  The barometer
was at fifteen inches, and the thermometer one degree below zero,
when I let off two pigeons.

"One descended in a diagonal direction, its wings half open but
not moving, with a swiftness which seemed that of a fall.  The
other flew for an instant, and then placed itself upon the car,
and did not wish to quit us.  Acting on the hint of Dr. Reimarus,
I tried the same experiment with butterflies, but the air was too
much rarefied for them; they attempted in vain to raise
themselves by their wings, but they did not forsake the car.

"The wind continuing to carry me towards the sea, I resolved to
bring my observations to an end.  I effected my descent in a
meadow, near the village of Rehorst, in Holstein, after having
run sixteen leagues from France in sixty-five minutes."

At the commencement of the year 1804, Laplace, at the Institute,
proposed to take advantage of the means offered by aerostation to
verify at great heights certain scientific points--as, for
example, those which concern magnetism. This proposition was made
at a favourable time, and was, so far, carried out in the best
possible way.  The aeronauts who were appointed to carry out the
expedition were Biot and Gay-Lussac, the most enthusiastic
aeronauts of the period.

The following is their report:--

"We observed the animals we had with us at all the different
heights, and they did not appear to suffer in any manner.  For
ourselves, we perceived no effect any more then a quickening of
the pulse.  At 10,000 feet above the ground we set a little
green-finch at liberty.  He flew out at once, but immediately
returning, settled upon our cordage; afterwards, setting out
again, he flew to the earth, describing a very tortuous line in
his passage.  We followed him with our eyes till he was lost in
the clouds.  A pigeon, which we set free at the same elevation,
presented a very curious spectacle.  Placed at liberty on the
edge of the car, he remained at rest for a number of instants, as
if measuring the length of his flight; then he launched himself
into space, flying about irregularly, as if to try his wings.
Afterwards he began his descent regularly, sweeping round and
round in great circles, ever reaching lower, until he also was
lost in the clouds."

As to the voyagers themselves, this is how they speak of their
situation at the height of 3,000 yards:--

"About this elevation we observed our animals.  They did not
appear to suffer from the rarity of the air, yet the barometer
was at twenty inches eight lines..  We were much surprised that
we did not suffer from the cold; on the contrary, the sun warmed
us much.  We had thrown aside the gloves which had been put on
board, and which were of no use to us.  Our pulses were very
quick; that of M. Gay-Lussac, which is 62 in the minute on
ordinary occasions, now gave 80; and mine, which is ordinarily
89, gave 111.  This acceleration was felt by both of us in nearly
the same proportion.  Nevertheless, our respiration was in no way
interfered with, we experienced no illness, and our situation
seemed to us extremely agreeable."

The following is their report to the Galvanic Society--

"We have known for a long time that no animal can with safety
pass into an atmosphere much more dense or much more rare than
that to which it has been accustomed.  In the first case it
suffers from the outer air, which presses upon it severely; in
the second case there are liquids or fluids in the animal's body
which, being less pressed against than they should be, become
dilated, and press against their coverings or channels.  In both
cases the symptoms are nearly the same--pain, general illness,
buzzing in the ears, and even haemorrhage.  The experience of the
diving-bell has long made us familiar with what aeronauts suffer.
Our colleague (Robertson), and his companion, have experienced
these effects in great intensity.  They had swelled lips, their
eyes bled, their veins were dilated, and, what is very
remarkable, they both preserved a brown or red tinge which
astonished those that had seen them before they made the ascent.
This distension of the blood-vessels would necessarily produce an
inconvenience and a difficulty in the muscular action."



Chapter II.  Ascent of M. Gay-Lussac Alone--Excursions of MM.
Barral and Bixio.

Respecting this ascent, Arago states that M. Gay-Lussac has
reduced to their proper value the narratives of the physical
pains which aeronauts say they suffer in lofty aerial ascents.

M. Gay-Lussac says:--"Having arrived at the most elevated point
of my ascent, 21,000 feet above sea level, my respiration was
rendered sensibly difficult, but I was far from experiencing any
illness of a kind to make me descend.  My pulse and my breathing
were very quick; breathing very frequently in an extremely dry
atmosphere, I should not have been surprised if my throat had
been so dry as to make it painful to swallow bread."

After having finished his observations, which referred chiefly to
the magnetic needle, with all the tranquillity of a doctor in his
study, Gay-Lussac descended to the earth between Rouen and
Dieppe, eighty leagues from Paris.

After the names of Robertson, Gay-Lussac, and Biot, science has
registered those of Barral and Bixio, two men whose aeronautic
achievements have enriched meteorology with more important
discoveries, perhaps, than any we have yet mentioned.

These gentlemen had conceived the project of rising by means of a
balloon to a great height, in order to study, with the assistance
of the very best instruments in use in their day, a multitude of
phenomena then imperfectly known.  The subjects to which they
were specially to direct their attention, were the law of the
decrease of temperature in progress upwards, the discovery of
whether the chemical composition of the atmosphere is the same
throughout all its parts, the comparison of the strength of the
solar rays in the higher regions of the atmosphere and on the
surface of the earth, the ascertaining whether the light
reflected and transmitted by the clouds is or is not polarised,
&c.

All the preparations having been made in the garden of the
Observatory at Paris, the ascent took place on the 29th of June,
1850, at 10.27 a.m., the balloon being filled with hydrogen gas.
The first ascent was a signal failure.  It was found that the
weather being bad, the envelope of the balloon was torn in
several places, and had to be mended in all haste.  Immediately
preceding the moment of ascent, a torrent of rain fell.  But the
voyagers were determined to ascend.  They placed themselves in
the car, and, when thrown off from the fastenings, they rose
through the air with the speed of an arrow.  The height to which
the balloon reached made it suddenly dilate, and the network,
which was much too small, was stretched to the utmost.  The
balloon was forced down upon them by the dilation, and one of
them, in the endeavour to work the valve, made a rent in the
lower part of the globe, from which the gas escaping almost over
the heads of the travellers, nearly choked them. The escape of
the gas had the usual result--the balloon descended rapidly, and
fell in a vineyard near Lugny, where they were found by the
peasants holding on to the trees by their legs and arms, and thus
attempting to stop the horizontal advance of the car.  They had
risen to the height of over 17,000 feet, and they had descended
from this height in from four to five minutes.

For all practical purposes, the ascent was a failure, and the
aeronauts immediately commenced preparations for a new voyage,
which took place a month afterwards.  They rose to very great
altitudes, but experienced no illness from the rarefied air.  M.
Bixio did not feel the sharp pains in the ears from which he had
suffered on the former occasion.  They passed through a mass of
cloud 15,000 feet in thickness, and they had not yet passed quite
through it, when at the height of over 21,000 feet from the
ground, they began to descend, their descent being caused by a
rent in the envelope of the balloon, from which the gas escaped.
They might, in throwing out the last of their ballast, have,
perhaps, prolonged for a little their sojourn in space, but the
circumstances in which they were placed did not permit them to
make many more scientific observations than those they had made,
and thus they were obliged to submit to their fate.  When they
had reached their greatest height, there seemed to open up in the
midst of the vaporous mass a brilliant space, from which they
could see the blue of heaven.  The polariscope, directed towards
this region, showed an internal polarisation, but, when pointed
to the side where the mist still prevailed, there was no
polarisation.

An optical phenomenon of a remarkable kind was witnessed when the
voyagers had attained their highest point.  They saw the sun
through the upper mists, looking quite white, as if shorn of its
strength; and, at the same time, below the horizontal plane,
below their horizon, and at an angular distance from the plane
equal to that of the sun above it, they saw a second sun, which
resembled the reflection of the actual sun in a sheet of water.
It is natural to suppose that the second sun was formed by the
reflection of the sun's rays upon the horizontal faces of the ice
crystals floating in this high cloud.



Chapter III.  Ascents of the Mssrs. Welsh, Glaisher and Coxwell.

The most recent balloon ascents in England deserving attention
have been undertaken for scientific objects, and in this country,
more than in any other, it may be said that the conquest of the
air has been made to serve a practical end.

In July, 1852, the Committee of the Kew Observatory resolved to
undertake a number of balloon voyages.  This resolution was
approved of by the British Association for the Advancement of
Science, and the necessary instruments for making a number of
meteorological observations were prepared.  The balloon employed
was that of Mr. Green, who was accompanied in his ascents by Mr.
Welsh.  The greatest height to which Mr. Welsh rose was on the
fourth ascent which took place on the 10th of November, 1852.
The balloon rose 22,930 feet, and the lowest temperature observed
was 26 degrees below zero.

It is to Mr. Glaisher and Mr. Coxwell, however, that the highest
honours of scientific aerostation belong.  The ascents made by
these gentlemen--Mr. Glaisher being the scientific observer, and
Mr. Coxwell the practical aeronaut--have become matters of
history.  Not only did they, in the course of a large number of
ascents undertaken under the auspices of the British Association,
succeed in gathering much valuable meteorological information,
but they reached a greater height than that ever gained on any
previous or subsequent occasion, and penetrated into that distant
region of the skies in which it has been satisfactorily proved
that no life can be long maintained.  It was on the 5th of
September, 1862, that Mr. Glaisher and Mr. Coxwell made the famous
ascent in which they reached the greatest height ever attained by
an aeronaut, and were so nearly sacrificed to their unselfish
daring.  Mr. Glaisher has given an admirable account of this
ascent, which took place from Wolverhampton.  He says:--"Our
ascent had been delayed, owing to the unfavourable state of the
weather.  It commenced at three minutes past one p.m., the
temperature of the air being 59 degrees, and the dew-point 48
degrees.  At the height of one mile the temperature was 41
degrees and the dew-point 38 degrees.  Shortly after wards clouds
were entered of about 1,100 feet in thickness.  Upon emerging
from them at seventeen minutes past one, I tried to take a view
of their surface with the camera, but the balloon was ascending
too rapidly and spiraling too quickly to allow me to do so.  The
height of two miles was reached at twenty-one minutes past one.
The temperature of the air had fallen to 32 degrees and the
dew-point to 26 degrees.  The third mile was passed at
twenty-eight minutes past one, with an air temperature of 18
degrees, and a dew-point of 13 degrees.  The fourth mile was
passed at thirty-nine minutes past one, with an air temperature
of 8 degrees, and a dew-point of minus 6 degrees and the fifth
mile about ten minutes later, with an air temperature minus 5
degrees, and a dew-point minus 36 degrees.

"Up to this time I had experienced no particular inconvenience.
When at the height of 26,000 feet I could not see the fine column
of the mercury in the tube; then the fine divisions on the scale
of the instrument became invisible.  At that time I asked Mr.
Coxwell to help me to read the instruments, as I experienced a
difficulty in seeing them. In consequence of the rotary motion of
the balloon, which had continued without ceasing since the earth
was left, the valve line had become twisted, and he had to leave
the car, and to mount into the ring above to adjust it.  At that
time I had no suspicion of other than temporary inconvenience in
seeing.  Shortly afterwards I laid my arm upon the table,
possessed of its full vigour; but directly after, being desirous
of using it, I found it powerless.  It must have lost its power
momentarily.  I then tried to move the other arm, but found it
powerless also.  I next tried to shake myself, and succeeded in
shaking my body.  I seemed to have no legs.  I could only shake
my body.  I then looked at the barometer, and whilst I was doing
so my head fell on my left shoulder.  I struggled, and shook my
body again, but could not move my arms.  I got my head upright,
but for an instant only, when it fell on my right shoulder; and
then I fell backwards, my back resting against the side of the
car, and my head on its edge.  In that position my eyes were
directed towards Mr. Coxwell in the ring.  When I shook my body
I seemed to have full power over the muscles of the back, and
considerable power over those of the neck, but none over my
limbs.  As in the case of the arms, all muscular power was lost
in an instant from my back and neck.  I dimly saw Mr. Coxwell in
the ring, and endeavoured to speak, but could not do so; when in
an instant intense black darkness came over me, and the optic
nerve lost power suddenly.  I was still conscious, with as active
a brain as whilst writing this.  I thought I had been seized with
asphyxia, and that I should experience no more, as death would
come unless we speedily descended.  Other thoughts were actively
entering my mind when I suddenly became unconscious, as though
going to sleep. I could not tell anything about the sense of
hearing: the perfect stillness of the regions six miles from the
earth--and at that time we were between six and seven miles
high--is such that no sound reaches the ear.  My last observation
was made at 29,000 feet, about fifty-four minutes past one.  I
suppose two or three minutes elapsed between my eyes becoming
insensible to seeing the fine divisions and fifty-four minutes
past one, and that other two or three minutes elapsed before I
became unconscious; therefore I think that took place about
fifty-six or fifty-seven minutes past one.  Whilst powerless I
heard the words 'temperature,' and 'observation,' and I knew Mr.
Coxwell was in the car, speaking to me, and endeavouring to rouse
me; and therefore consciousness and hearing had returned.  I then
heard him speak more emphatically, but I could not speak or move.
Then I heard him say, 'Do try; now do!' Then I saw the
instruments dimly, next Mr. Coxwell, and very shortly I saw
clearly.  I rose in my seat and looked round, as though waking
from sleep, and said to Mr. Coxwell, 'I have been insensible.' He
said, 'Yes; and I too, very nearly.' I then drew up my legs,
which had been extended out before me, and took a pencil in my
hand to note my observations.  Mr. Coxwell informed me that he
had lost the use of his hands, which were black, and I poured
brandy over them.  I resumed my observations at seven minutes
past two.  I suppose three or four minutes were occupied from the
time of my hearing the words 'temperature' and 'observation,'
until I began to observe.  If so, then returning consciousness
came at four minutes past two, and that gives about seven minutes
of total insensibility.  Mr. Coxwell told me that in coming from
the ring he thought for a moment that I had laid back to rest
myself; that he spoke to me without eliciting a reply; that he
then noticed that my legs projected, and my arms hung down by my
side.  That my countenance was serene and placid, without
earnestness or anxiety, he had noticed before going into the
ring.  It then struck him that I was insensible.  He wished then
to approach me, but could not, and he felt insensibility coming
over himself.  He became anxious to open the valve, but, in
consequence of having lost the use of his hands, he could not;
and ultimately he did so by seizing the cord with his teeth and
dipping his head two or three times.  No inconvenience followed
our insensibility.  When we dropped it was in a country where no
accommodation of any kind could be obtained, so that we had to
walk between seven and eight miles.  At the time of ceasing our
observations the ascent was at the rate of 1,000 feet per minute,
and on resuming observations the descent was at the rate of 2,000
feet per minute.  These two positions must be connected, having
relation to the interval of time which elapsed between them; and
they can scarcely be connected at a point less than 36,000 or
37,000 feet high.  Again, a very delicate minimum thermometer was
found to read minus 12 degrees, and that reading would indicate
an elevation exceeding 36,000 feet.  There cannot be any doubt
that the balloon attained the great height of seven miles--the
greatest ever reached.  In this ascent six pigeons were taken up.
One was thrown out at three miles.  It extended its wings, and
dropped like a piece of paper.  A second at four miles, and it
flew with vigour.  A third between four and five miles, and it
fell downwards.  A fourth was thrown out at four miles in
descending, and it alighted on the top of the balloon.  Two were
brought to the ground.  One was dead, and the other was ill, but
recovered so as to fly away in a quarter of an hour."

The results gathered by Mr. Glaisher from his numerous ascents
are very interesting.  He found that in no instance did the
temperature of the air decrease uniformly with the increase of
height.  In fact, the decrease in the first mile is double that
in the second, and nearly four times as great as the change of
temperature in the fifth mile.  The distribution of aqueous
vapour in the air is no less remarkable.  The temperature of the
dew-point on leaving the earth decreases less rapidly than the
temperature of the air; so that the difference between the two
temperatures becomes less and less, till the vapour or cloud
plane is reached, when they are usually together, and always most
nearly approach each other, and that point is usually at about
the height of one mile.  On leaving the upper surface of cloud,
the dew point decreases more rapidly  than the air, and at
extremely high situations the difference  between the two
temperatures is wonderfully great, indicating an extraordinary
degree of dryness, and an almost entire absence of water.  Under
these circumstances, the presence of cirrus clouds far above this
dry region, apparently as much above as when viewed from the
earth, is very remarkable, and leads to the conclusion that they
are not composed of water.

In the propagation of sound, M. Glaisher made many curious
experiments.  In one ascent (July 17th) he found, when at a
distance of 11,800 feet above the earth, that a band was heard;
at a height of 22,000 feet, a clap of thunder was heard; and at a
height of 10,070 feet, the report of a gun was heard.  On one
occasion, he heard the dull hum of London at a height of 9,000
feet above the city, and on another occasion, the shouting of
many thousands of persons could not be heard at the height of
4,000 feet.



Chapter IV.  Balloons Made Useful in Warfare.

Wars of the French Republic--Company of "Ballooneers"--Battle of
Fleurus--The Balloons of Egypt--Napoleon--Modern Services War in
Italy--War in America--Conclusion.

We will conclude our work with a glance at aerostation as applied
to warfare.  Scarcely had the first ascents astonished the world,
than the more adventurous spirits began to use the new discovery
for a thousand purposes directly useful to man.  The first point
of view in which aerostation was regarded, was in that of its
practical utility If one refers to the pre-occupations of the
time--to the great events then occurring in the history of
France, one will easily understand that the Committee of Public
Safety soon thought of employing balloons in the observation of
the forces and the movements of hostile troops.  In 1794, the
idea was practically carried out, and the French armies were
provided with two companies of aeronauts.  The command of one of
these companies was given to Captain Coutelle, a young physicist
of great talent, who rendered memorable services at the battle of
Fleurus.  The balloons were not thrown free, but were retained
attached by means of long cords.  In this way they took up, so to
speak, aerial posts of observation.  Placed in his car, the
captain transmitted his instructions to his men below by means of
coloured flags.  Coutelle has left us a lively narrative of
certain incidents connected with one of the grand days of the old
Republic.  He had been commissioned by the Committee of Public
Safety to go to Maubeuge, where Jourdan's army was encamped, and
to offer him the use of his balloon.  The representative to whom
the young doctor presented his commission, knew nothing about
balloons, and not being able to understand the order of the
Committee of Public Safety, it suddenly dawned upon him that
Coutelle, with his trumpery forgery about balloons, was nothing
else than a spy, and he was about to have him shot.  The
genuineness of the order from the Committee, however, was proved,
and Coutelle's case was listened to.

"The army was at Beaumont," says Coutelle, "and the enemy, placed
at a distance of only three miles, could attack at any moment.
The general told me this fact, and engaged me to return and
communicate it to the Committee.  This I did.  The Commission
then felt the necessity of making an experiment with a balloon
that could raise two persons, and the minister placed at my
service the garden and the little mansion of Meudon.  Many of the
members of the Commission came to witness the first ascent of a
balloon held in hand, like a kite, by means of two cords.  The
Commissioners ordered me to place myself in the car, and
instructed me as to a number of signals which I must repeat, and
observations which I must make.  I raised myself to the full
length of the cord, a height of 1,500 feet, and at this height,
with the help of a glass, I could distinctly see the seven bends
of the river Seine.  On returning to the earth, I received the
compliments of the Commission.

"Arrived at Maubeuge, my first care was to find a suitable spot
to erect my furnace, and to make every preparation for the
arrival of my balloon from Meudon.  Each day my observations
contained something new either in the works which the Austrians
had thrown up during the night, or in the arrangement of their
forces.  On the fifth day a piece of cannon had been brought to
bear upon the balloon, and shots were fired at me as soon as I
appeared above the ramparts.  None of the shots took effect, and
on the following day the piece was no longer in position.
Experience enforced upon me the necessity of forming some
provision against these unexpected attacks.  I employed the night
in fixing cords all round the middle of my balloon.  Each of the
aerostiers had charge of one of the ropes, and by means of them I
could easily move about, and thus get myself out of range of any
gun that had been trained to bear against me.  I was afterwards
ordered to make a reconnaissance at Mayence, and I posted myself
between our lines and the enemy at half range of cannon.  When
the wind, which was tempestuous at first, became calmer, I was
able to count the number of cannon on the ramparts, as well as
the troops that marched through the streets and in the squares.

"Generally the soldiers of the enemy, all who saw the observer
watching them and taking notes, came to the idea that they could
do nothing without being seen.  Our soldiers were of the same
opinion, and consequently they regarded us with great admiration
and trust.  On the heavy marches they brought us prepared food
and wine, which my men were hardly able to get for themselves, so
closely did they require to attend to the ropes.  We were
encamped upon the banks of the Rhine at Manheim when our general
sent me to the opposite bank to parley.  As soon as the Austrian
officers were made aware that I commanded the balloon, I was
overwhelmed with questions and compliments.

"What causes an impression which, till one is accustomed to it,
is very alarming, is the noise which the balloon makes when it is
struck by successive gales of wind.  When the wind has passed,
the balloon, which has been pressed into a concave form by the
wind, suddenly resumes its globular form with a loud noise heard
at a great distance.  The silk of the balloon would often burst
in a case of this kind, were it not for the restraining power of
the network."

After the days of Coutelle we do not read that balloons were made
much use of in warfare.  The only ascent in the Egypt campaign
was that of a tricolor balloon thrown up to commemorate a fete.
That Napoleon knew full well the value of the scientific
discoveries of his time is clear from the following conversation
with a learned Mohammedan, which took place in the great pyramid
of Cheops:--

Mussamed.  "Noble successor of Alexander, honour to shine
invincible arms, and to the unexpected lightning with which your
warriors are furnished."

Bonaparte.  "Do you believe that that lightning is the work of
the children of men?  Allah has placed it in our hands by means
of the genius of war."

Mussamed.  "We recognised by your arms that it is Allah that has
sent you--the Delta and all the neighbouring countries are full
of thy miracles.  But would you be a conqueror if Allah did not
permit you?"

Bonaparte.  "A celestial body will point by my orders to the
dwelling of the clouds, and lightning will descend towards the
earth, along a rod of metal from which I can call it forth."

Napoleon did not favour the use of balloons in war.  Perhaps it
was because he himself had such a splendid genius for war that he
depended alone upon himself, and scorned assistance.  Perhaps it
was because if balloons were discovered to be of real utility,
his enemies might make use of them as well as himself, and France
retain no special advantage in them. But however this may be, on
his return from Egypt he sold the balloon of Fleurus to
Robertson. The company of ballooneers was dissolved, and the
balloons themselves disappeared in smoke.

During the war in America, the role which the balloon played was
a more important one.  The Government of the United States
conferred the title of aeronautic engineer upon Mr. Allan, of
Rhode Island, who originated the idea of communicating by a
telegraphic wire from the balloon to the camp.  The first
telegraphic message which was transmitted from the aerial regions
is that of Professor Love, at Washington, to the President of the
United States.  The following is this despatch:--

"WASHINGTON, Balloon the 'Enterprise.'

"SIR,--The point of observation commands an extent of nearly
fifty miles in diameter.  The city, with its girdle of
encampments, presents a superb scene.  I have great pleasure in
sending you this despatch--the first that has been telegraphed
from an aerial station--and to know that I should be so much
encouraged, from having given the first proof that the aeronautic
science can render great assistance in these countries."

In the month of September, 1861, one of the most hardy aeronauts
(La Mountain) furnished important information to General
M'Clellan. The balloon of La Mountain, which arose from the
northern camp upon the Potomac, passed above Washington.  La
Mountain then cut the cord that connected his balloon with the
earth, and rising rapidly to the height of a mile and a half, he
found himself directly above his enemies' lines.  There he was
able to observe perfectly their position and their movements.  He
then threw over ballast, and ascended to the height of three
miles.  At this height he encountered a current which carried him
in the direction of Maryland, where he descended in safety.
General M'Clellan was so much satisfied with the observations
taken in the balloon, that, at his request, the order was given
to the War Department to construct four new balloons.

If this volume of "The Library of Wonders" had not had for its
single object "balloons and their history," we would have devoted
a chapter to the numerous attempts made to steer balloons.  We
shall only say here that aerial navigation should be divided into
two kinds with balloons, and without balloons.  In the first
case, it is limited to the study of aerial currents, and to the
art of rising to those currents which suit the direction of the
voyage undertaken.  The balloon is not the master of the
atmosphere; on the contrary, it is its powerless slave.  In the
second case, the discovery of Montgolfier is useless; and the
question is, to find out a new machine capable of flying in the
air, and at the same time heavier than the air.  Birds are,
without doubt, the best models to study.  But with what force
shall we replace LIFE?  The air-boat of M. Pline seems to us one
of the best ideas; but the working of it presents many
difficulties.  Let us find a motive power at once light and
powerful (aluminium and electricity, for example), and we will
have definitively conquered the empire of the air.


End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Wonderful Balloon Ascents; 
or the Conquest of the Skies, by F. (Fulgence) Marion

