"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.



Chapter I. The History of Aerostation from the Year 1783.

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 Antoinette, 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—Caricatures— 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, having 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.