“If,” says Linguet, “there existed an autograph journal, written by Columbus, descriptive of his first great voyage with what jealous care it would be preserved, with what confidence it would be quoted! We should delight to follow the candid account which he gave of his thoughts, his hopes, his fears; of the complaints of his followers, of his attempts to calm them, and, finally, of his joy in the moment which, ratifying his word and justifying his boldness, declared him the discoverer of a new world All these details have been transmitted to us, but by stranger hands; and, however interesting they may be, one cannot help feeling that this circumstance makes them lose part of their value.”
The narrative of the first aerial voyage, written by one of the two first aeronauts, exists, and we are in a position to place it before our readers. Such an enterprise certainly demanded great courage in him who was the first to dare to confide himself to the unknown currents of the atmosphere It threatened him with dangers, perhaps with death by a fill, by fire, by cold, or by straying into the mysterious cloud-land. Two men opposed the first attempt. Montgolfier temporised, the king forbade it, or rather only gave his permission on the condition that two condemned criminals should be placed in the balloon! “What!” cried Roziers, in indignation at the king’s proposal, “allow two vile criminals to have the first glory of rising into the sky! No, no; that will never do!” Roziers conjured, supplicated, agitated in a hundred ways for permission to try the first voyage. He moved the town and the court; he addressed himself to those who were most in favour at Versailles; he pleaded with the Duchess de Polignac, who was all-powerful with the king. She warmly supported his cause before Louis. Roziers dispatched the Marquis d’Arlandes, who had been up with him, to the king. Arlandes asserted that there was no danger, and, as proof of his conviction, he offered himself to accompany Roziers. Solicited on all sides, Louis at last yielded.
The gardens of La Muette, near Paris, were fixed upon as the spot from which this aerial expedition should start. The Dauphin and his suite were present on the occasion. It was on the 21st of October, 1783, at one o’clock p.m., that Roziers and Irelands took their leave of the earth for the first time. The following is Arlandes’ narrative of the expedition, given in the form of a letter, addressed by the marquis to Faujas de Saint Fond:—“You wish, my dear Faujas, and I consent most willingly to your desires, that, owing to the number of questions continually addressed to me, and for other reasons, I should gratify public curiosity and fix public opinion upon the subject of our aerial voyage.
“I wish to describe as well as I can the first journey which men have attempted through an element which, prior to the discovery of MM. Montgolfier, seemed so little fitted to support them.
“We went up on the 21st of October, 1783, at near two o’clock, M. Roziers on the west side of the balloon, I on the east. The wind was nearly north-west. The machine, say the public, rose with majesty; but really the position of the balloon altered so that M. Roziers was in the advance of our position, I in the rear.
“I was surprised at the silence and the absence of movement which our departure caused among the spectators, and believed them to be astonished and perhaps awed at the strange spectacle; they might well have reassured themselves I was still gazing, when M. Roziers cried to me—
“‘You are doing nothing, and the balloon is scarcely rising a fathom.’
“‘Pardon me,’ I answered, as I placed a bundle of straw upon the fire and slightly stirred it. Then I turned quickly, but already we had passed out of sight of La Muette. Astonished, I cast a glance towards the river. I perceived the confluence of the Oise. And naming the principal bends of the river by the places nearest them, I cried, ‘Passy, St. Germain, St. Denis, Sevres!’
“‘If you look at the river in that fashion you will be likely to bathe in it soon,’ cried Roziers. ‘Some fire, my dear friend, some fire!’
“We travelled on; but instead of crossing the river, as our direction seemed to indicate, we bore towards the Invalides, then returned upon the principal bed of the river, and travelled to above the barrier of La Conference, thus dodging about the river, but not crossing it.
“‘That river is very difficult to cross,’ I remarked to my companion.
“‘So it seems,’ he answered; ‘but you are doing nothing I suppose it is because you are braver than I, and don’t fear a tumble.’
“I stirred the fire, I seized a truss of straw with my fork; I raised it and threw it in the midst of the flames. An instant afterwards I felt myself lifted as it were into the heavens.
“‘For once we move,’ said I.
“‘Yes, we move,’ answered my companion.
“At the same instant I heard from the top of the balloon a sound which made me believe that it had burst. I watched, yet I saw nothing. My companion had gone into the interior, no doubt to make some observations. As my eyes were fixed on the top of the machine I experienced a shock, and it was the only one I had yet felt. The direction of the movement was from above downwards I then said—
“‘What are you doing? Are you having a dance to yourself?’
“‘I’m not moving.’
“‘So much the better. It is only a new current which I hope will carry us from the river,’ I answered.
“I turned to see where we were, and found we were between the Ecole Militaire and the Invalides.
“‘We are getting on.’ said Roziers.
“‘Yes, we are travelling.’
“‘Let us work, let us work,’ said he.
“I now heard another report in the machine, which I believed was produced by the cracking of a cord. This new intimation made me carefully examine the inside of our habitation. I saw that the part that was turned towards the south was full of holes, of which some were of a considerable size.
“‘It must descend,’ I then cried.
“‘Why?’
“‘Look!’ I said. At the same time I took my sponge and quietly extinguished the little fire that was burning some of the holes within my reach; but at the same moment I perceived that the bottom of the cloth was coming away from the circle which surrounded it.
“‘We must descend,’ I repeated to my companion.
“He looked below.
“‘We are upon Paris,’ he said.
“‘It does not matter,’ I answered ‘Only look! Is there no danger? Are you holding on well?’
“‘Yes.’
“I examined from my side, and saw that we had nothing to fear. I then tried with my sponge the ropes which were within my reach. All of them held firm. Only two of the cords had broken.
“I then said, ‘We can cross Paris.’
“During this operation we were rapidly getting down to the roofs. We made more fire, and rose again with the greatest ease. I looked down, and it seemed to me we were going towards the towers of St. Sulpice; but, on rising, a new current made us quit this direction and bear more to the south. I looked to the left, and beheld a wood, which I believed to be that of Luxembourg. We were traversing the boulevard, and I cried all at once—
“‘Get to ground!’
“But the intrepid Roziers, who never lost his head, and who judged more surely than I, prevented me from attempting to descend. I then threw a bundle of straw on the fire. We rose again, and another current bore us to were now close to the ground, between two mills. As soon to the left. We as we came near the earth I raised myself over the gallery, and leaning there with my two hands, I felt the balloon pressing softly against my head. I pushed it back, and leaped down to the ground. Looking round and expecting to see the balloon still distended, I was astonished to find it quite empty and flattened. On looking for Roziers I saw him in his shirt-sleeves creeping out from under the mass of canvas that had fallen over him. Before attempting to descend he had put off his coat and placed it in the basket. After a deal of trouble we were at last all right.
“As Roziers was without a coat I besought him to go to the nearest house. On his way thither he encountered the Duke of Chartres, who had followed us, as we saw, very closely, for I had had the honour of conversing with him the moment before we set out.”
The following report of this first aerial voyage was drawn up by scientific observers, among other signatures to it being that of Benjamin Franklin.
“Today 21st of October, 1783, at the Chateau de la Muette, an experiment was made with the aerostatic machine of M. Montgolfier. The sky was clouded in many parts, clear in others—the wind north-west. At mid-day a signal was given, which announced that the balloon was being filled. Soon after, in spite of the wind, it was inflated in all its parts, and the ascent was made. The Marquis d’Arlandes and M. Pilatre des Roziers were in the gallery. The first intention was to raise the machine and pull it back with ropes, to test it, to find out the exact weight which it could carry, and to see if everything was properly arranged before the actual ascent was attempted. But the machine, driven by the wind, far from rising vertically, was directed upon one of the walks of a garden, and the cords which held it shook with so much force that several rents were made in the balloon. The machine, being brought back to its place, was repaired in less than two hours. Being again inflated, it rose once more, bearing the same persons, and when it had risen to the height of 250 feet, the intrepid voyagers, bowing their heads, saluted the spectators. One could not resist a feeling of mingled fear and admiration. Soon the aeronauts were lost to view, but the balloon itself, displaying its very beautiful shape, mounted to the height of 3,000 feet, and still remained visible. The voyagers, satisfied with their experience, and not wishing to make a longer course, agreed to descend, but, perceiving that the wind was driving them upon the houses of the Rue de Sevres, preserved their self-possession, renewed the hot air, rose anew and continued their course till they had passed Paris.
“They then descended tranquilly in the country, beyond the new boulevard, without having experienced the slightest inconvenience, having still the greater part of their fuel untouched. They could, had they desired, have cleared a distance three times as great as that which they traversed. Their flight was nearly 30,000 feet, and the time it occupied was from twenty to twenty-five minutes. This machine was 70 feet high, 46 feet in diameter, and had a capacity of 60,000 cubic feet.”
It is reported that Franklin, more illustrious in his humility than the most brilliant among the lords of the court, when consulted respecting the possible use of balloons, answered simply, “C’est l’enfant qui vient de naitre?”
The first ascent of Roziers and Arlandes was a feat of hardihood almost unique. The men’s courage was, so to speak, their only guarantee. Thanks to the balloon, however, they accomplished one of the most extraordinary enterprises ever achieved by our race.
On the day after the experiment of the Champ de Mars (27th of August), Professor Charles—who had already acquired celebrity at the Louvre, by his scientific collection and by his rank as an official instructor—and the Brothers Robert, mechanicians, were engaged in the construction of a balloon, to be inflated with hydrogen gas, and destined to carry a car and one or two passengers. For this ascent Charles may be said to have created all at once the art of aerostation as now practiced, for he brought it at one bound to such perfection that since his day scarcely any advance has been made upon his arrangements. His simple yet complete invention was that of the valve which gives escape to the hydrogen gas, and thus renders the descent of the balloon gentle and gradual; the car that carries the travellers; the ballast of sand, by which the ascent is regulated and the fall is moderated; the coating of caoutchouc, by means of which the material of the balloon is rendered airtight and prevents loss of gas; and, finally, the use of the barometer, which marks at every instant, by the elevation or the depression of the mercury, the position in which the aeronaut finds himself in the atmosphere. Charles created all the contrivances, or, in other words, all the ingenious precautions which make up the art of aerostation.
On the 26th of November, the balloon, fitted with its network, and having the car attached to it, was sent away from the hall of the Tuileries, where it had been exhibited. The ascent was fixed for the 1st of December, 1783, a memorable day for the Parisians.
At noon upon that day, the subscribers, who had paid four louis for their seats, took their places within the enclosure outside the circle, in which stood the casks employed for making the gas. The humbler subscribers, at three francs a-head, occupied the rest of the garden. The number of spectators, as we read underneath the numerous coloured prints which represent this spectacle, was 600,000; but though, without doubt, the gardens of the Tuileries are very large, it is probable this figure is a considerable overstatement, for this number would have been three-fourths of the whole population of Paris.
The roofs and windows of the houses were crowded, whilst the Pont Royal and the square of Louis XV. were covered by an immense multitude. About mid-day a rumour was spread to the effect that the king forbade the ascent. Charles ran to the Chief Minister of State, and plainly told him that his life was the king’s, but his honour was his own: his word was pledged to the country and he would ascend. Taking this high ground, the bold professor gained an unwilling permission to carry out his undertaking.
A little afterwards the sound of cannon was heard. This was the signal which announced the last arrangements and thus dissipated all doubt as to the rising of the balloon, There had during the day been considerable disturbance among the crowd, between the partisans of Charles and Montgolfier; each party extolled its hero, and did everything possible to detract from the merits of the rival inventor. But whatever ill-feeling might have existed was swept away by Professor Charles with a compliment. When he was ready to ascend, he walked up to Montgolfier, and, with the true instinct of French politeness, presented him with a little balloon, saying at the same time—
“It is for you, monsieur, to show us the way to the skies.”
The exquisite taste and delicacy of this incident touched the bystanders as with an electric shock, and the place at once rang out with the most genuine and hearty applause The little balloon thrown up by Montgolfier sped away to the north-east, its beautiful emerald colour showing to fine effect in the sun.
From this point let us follow the narrative of Professor Charles himself.
“The balloon,” he says, “which escaped from the hands of M. Montgolfier, rose into the air, and seemed to carry with it the testimony of friendship and regard between that gentleman and myself, while acclamations followed it. Meanwhile, we hastily prepared for departure. The stormy weather did not permit us to have at our command all the arrangements which we had contemplated the previous evening; to do so would have detained us too long upon the earth. After the balloon and the car were in equilibrium, we threw over 19 lbs. of ballast, and we rose in the midst of silence, arising from the emotion and surprise felt on all sides.
“Nothing will ever equal that moment of joyous excitement which filled my whole being when I felt myself flying away from the earth. It was not mere pleasure; it was perfect bliss. Escaped from the frightful torments of persecution and of calumny, I felt that I was answering all in rising above all.
“To this sentiment succeeded one more lively still—the admiration of the majestic spectacle that spread itself out before us. On whatever side we looked, all was glorious; a cloudless sky above, a most delicious view around. ‘Oh, my friend,’ said I to M. Robert, ‘how great is our good fortune! I care not what may be the condition of the earth; it is the sky that is for me now. What serenity! what a ravishing scene! Would that I could bring here the last of our detractors, and say to the wretch, Behold what you would have lost had you arrested the progress of science.’
“Whilst we were rising with a progressively increasing speed, we waved our bannerets in token of our cheerfulness, and in order to give confidence to those below who took an interest in our fate. M. Robert made an inventory of our stores; our friends had stocked our commissariat as for a long voyage—champagne and other wines, garments of fur and other articles of clothing.
“‘Good,’ I said; ‘throw that out of the window.’ He took a blanket and launched it into the air, through which it floated down slowly, and fell upon the dome of l’Assomption.
“When the barometer had fallen 26 inches, we ceased to ascend. We were up at an elevation of 1,800 feet. This was the height to which I had promised myself to ascend; and, in fact, from this moment to the time when we disappeared from the eyes of our friends, we always kept a horizontal course, the barometer registering 26 inches to 26 inches 8 lines.
“We required to throw over ballast in proportion as the almost insensible escape of the hydrogen gas caused us to descend, in order to remain as nearly as possible at the same elevation. If circumstances had permitted us to measure the amount of ballast we threw over, our course would have been almost absolutely horizontal.
“After remaining for a few moments stationary, our car I changed its course, and we were carried on at the will of the wind. Soon we passed the Seine, between St. Ouen and Asnieres. We traversed the river a second time, leaving Argenteuil upon the left. We passed Sannois, Franconville, Eau-Bonne, St. Leu-Taverny, Villiers, and finally, Nesles. This was about twenty-seven miles from Paris, and we had I reached this distance in two hours, although there was so little wind that the air scarcely stirred.
“During the whole course of this delightful voyage, not the slightest apprehension for our fate or that of our machine entered my head for a moment. The globe did not suffer any alteration beyond the successive changes of dilatation and compression, which enabled us to mount and descend at will. The thermometer was, during more than an hour, between ten and twelve degrees above zero; this being to some extent accounted for by the fact that the interior of the car was warmed by the rays of the sun.
“At the end of fifty-six minutes, we heard the report of the cannon which informed us that we had, at that moment, disappeared from view at Paris. We rejoiced that we had escaped, as we were no longer obliged to observe a horizontal course, and to regulate the balloon for that purpose.
“We gave ourselves up to the contemplation of the views which the immense stretch of country beneath us presented. From that time, though we had no opportunity of conversing with the inhabitants, we saw them running after us from all parts; we heard their cries, their exclamations of solicitude, and knew their alarm and admiration.
“We cried, ‘Vive le Roi!’ and the people responded. We heard, very distinctly—‘My good friends, have you no fear? Are you not sick? How beautiful it is! Heaven preserve you! Adieu, my friends.’
“I was touched to tears by this tender and true interest which our appearance had called forth.
“We continued to wave our flags without cessation, and we perceived that these signals greatly increased the cheerfulness and calmed the solicitude of the people below. Often we descended sufficiently low to hear what they shouted to us. They asked us where we came from, and at what hour we had started.
“We threw over successively frock-coats, muffs, and habits. Sailing on above the Ile d’Adam, after having admired the splendid view, we made signals with our flags, and demanded news of the Prince of Conti. One cried up to us, in a very powerful voice, that he was at Paris, and that he was ill. We regretted missing such an opportunity of paying our respects, for we could have descended into the prince’s gardens, if we had wished, but we preferred to pursue our course, and we re-ascended. Finally, we arrived at the plain of Nesles.
“We saw from the distance groups of peasants, who ran on before us across the fields. ‘Let us go,’ I said, and we descended towards a vast meadow.
“Some shrubs and trees stood round its border. Our car advanced majestically in a long inclined plane. On arriving near the trees, I feared that their branches might damage the car, so I threw over two pounds of ballast, and we rose again. We ran along more than 120 feet, at a distance of one or two feet from the ground, and had the appearance of travelling in a sledge. The peasants ran after us without being able to catch us, like children pursuing a butterfly in the fields.
“Finally, we stopped, and were instantly surrounded. Nothing could equal the simple and tender regard of the country people, their admiration, and their lively emotion.
“I called at once for the cures and the magistrates. They came round me on all sides: there was quite a fete on the spot. I prepared a short report, which the cures and the syndics signed. Then arrived a company of horsemen at a gallop. These were the Duke of Chartres, the Duke of Fitzjames, and M. Farrer. By a very singular chance, we had come down close by the hunting-lodge of the latter. He leaped from his horse and threw himself into my arms, crying, ‘Monsieur Charles, I was first!’
“Charles adds that they were covered with the caresses of the prince, who embraced both of them. He briefly narrated to the Duke of Chartres some incidents of the voyage.
“‘But this is not all, monseigneur. I am going away again,’ added Charles.
“‘What! Going away!’ exclaimed the duke.
“‘Monseigneur, you will see. When do you wish me to come back again?’ I said.
“‘In half an hour.’
“‘Very well: be it so. In half an hour I shall be with you again.’
“M. Robert descended from the car, and I was alone in the balloon.
“I said to the duke, ‘Monseigneur, I go.’ I said to the peasants who held down the balloon, ‘My friends, go away, all of you, from the car at the moment I give the signal.’ I then rose like a bird, and in ten minutes I was more than 3,000 feet above the ground. I no longer perceived terrestrial objects; I only saw the great masses of nature.
“In going away, Charles had taken his precautions against the possible explosion of the balloon, and made himself ready to make certain observations. In order to observe the barometer and the thermometer, placed at different extremities of the car, without endangering the equilibrium, he sat down in the middle, a watch and paper in his left hand, a pen and the cord of the safety-valve in his right.
“I waited for what should happen,” continues he. “The balloon, which was quite flabby and soft when I ascended, was now taut, and fully distended. Soon the hydrogen gas began to escape in considerable quantities by the neck of the balloon, and then, from time to time, I pulled open the valve to give it two issues at once; and I continued thus to mount upwards, all the time losing the inflammable air, which, rushing past me from the neck of the balloon, felt like a warm cloud.
“I passed in ten minutes from the temperature of spring to that of winter; the cold was keen and dry, but not insupportable. I examined all my sensations calmly; I COULD HEAR MYSELF LIVE, so to speak, and I am certain that at first I experienced nothing disagreeable in this sudden passage from one temperature to another.
“When the barometer ceased to move I noted very exactly eighteen inches ten lines. This observation is perfectly accurate The mercury did not suffer any sensible movement.
“At the end of some minutes the cold caught my fingers; I could hardly hold the pen, but I no longer had need to do so. I was stationary, or rather moved only in a horizontal direction.
“I raised myself in the middle of the car, and abandoned myself to the spectacle before me. At my departure from the meadow the sun had sunk to the people of the valleys; soon he shone for me alone, and came again to pour his rays upon the balloon and the car. I was the only creature in the horizon in sunshine—all the rest of nature was in shade. Ere long, however, the sun disappeared, and thus I had the pleasure of seeing him set twice in the same day. I contemplated for some moments the mists and vapours that rose from the valley and the rivers The clouds seemed to come forth from the earth, and to accumulate the one upon the other. Their colour was a monotonous grey—a natural effect, for there was no light save that of the moon.
“I observed that I had tacked round twice, and I felt currents which called me to my senses. I found with surprise the effect of the wind, and saw the cloth of my flag: extended horizontally.
“In the midst of the inexpressible pleasure of this state of ecstatic contemplation, I was recalled to myself by a most extraordinary pain which I felt in the interior of the ears and in the maxillary glands. This I attributed to the dilation of the air contained in the cellular tissue of the organ as much as to the cold outside. I was in my vest, with my head uncovered. I immediately covered my head with a bonnet of wool which was at my feet, but the pain only disappeared with my descent to the ground.
“It was now seven or eight minutes since I had arrived at this elevation, and I now commenced to descend. I remembered the promise I had made to the Duke of Chartres, to return in half an hour. I quickened my descent by opening the valve from time to time. Soon the balloon, empty now to one half, presented the appearance of a hemisphere.
“Arrived at twenty-three fathoms from the earth, I suddenly threw over two or three pounds of ballast, which arrested my descent, and which I had carefully kept for this purpose. I then slowly descended upon the ground, which I had, so to speak, chosen.”
Such is the narrative of the second aerial voyage. After such a memorable ascent one is astonished to learn that Professor Charles never repeated his experiment. It has been said that, in descending from his car, he had vowed that he would never again expose himself to such perils, so strong had been the alarm he felt when the peasants ceasing to hold him down he shot up into the sky with the rapidity of an arrow. But after him a thousand others have followed the daring example he set. With this ascent the memorable year 1783 closed, and the seed which had been sown soon began to be productive.
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.”