Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
UP IN THE CLOUDS, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.
CHAPTER ONE.
BALLOON VOYAGES.
TREATS OF EARLY EFFORTS TO FLY, ETCETERA.
It is man's nature to soar intellectually, and it seems to have been his
ambition from earliest ages to soar physically.
Every one in health knows, or at some period of life must have known,
that upward bounding of the spirit which induces a longing for the
possession of wings, that the material body might be wafted upwards into
those blue realms of light, which are so attractive to the eye and
imagination of poor creeping man that he has appropriately styled them
the heavens.
Man has envied the birds since the world began. Who has not watched,
with something more than admiration, the easy gyrations of the sea-mew,
and listened, with something more than delight, to the song of the
soaring lark?
To fly with the body as well as with the mind, is a wish so universal
that the benignant Creator Himself seems to recognise it in that most
attractive passage in Holy Writ, wherein it is said that believers shall
"mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they
shall walk and not faint."
Of course man has not reached the middle of the nineteenth century
without making numerous attempts to fly bodily up to the skies.
Fortunately, however, such ambitious efforts have seldom been made
except by the intellectually enthusiastic. Prosaic man, except in the
case of the Tower of Babel, has remained content to gaze upwards with
longing desire, and only a few of our species in the course of centuries
have possessed temerity enough to make the deliberate effort to ride
upon the wings of the wind.
Naturally, the first attempts were, like most beginnings, simple and
imitative. The birds flew with wings, therefore man put on artificial
wings and essayed to fly like the birds. It was not until many grievous
disappointments and sad accidents had befallen him, that he unwillingly
gave up wings in despair, and set to work to accomplish his ends by more
cumbrous and complex machinery.
Very early in the world's history, however, "flying machines" were made,
some of which were doubtless intended by their honest inventors to carry
men through the air, while others were mere shams, made by designing
men, wherewith to impose upon the ignorant for wicked ends of their own;
and some of these last were, no doubt, believed to be capable of the
feats attributed to them.
The credulity of the ancients is not to be wondered at when we reflect
on the magical illusions which science enables us to produce at the
present day--illusions so vivid and startling that it requires the most
elaborate explanations by adepts and philosophers to convince some among
their audiences that what they think they see is absolutely not real!
No wonder that the men of old had firm faith in the existence of all
kinds of flying machines and creatures.
They believed that fiery dragons were created by infernal machination,
which, although not what we may call natural creatures, were
nevertheless supposed to rush impetuous through the sky, vomiting flames
and scattering the seeds of pestilence far and wide. In those dark
ages, writers even ventured to describe the method of imitating the
composition of such terrific monsters! A number of large hollow reeds
were to be bound together, then sheathed completely in skin, and smeared
over with pitch and other inflammable matters. This light and bulky
engine, when set on fire, launched during thick darkness from some cliff
into the air, and borne along by the force of the wind, would
undoubtedly carry conviction to the minds of the populace, whilst it
would fill them with amazement and terror!
Sometimes, however, those who attempted to practise on the credulity of
their fellows were themselves appalled by the results of their
contrivances. Such was the case so late as the year 1750, when a small
Roman Catholic town in Swabia was almost entirely burnt to ashes by an
unsuccessful experiment made by some of the lowest order of priests for
the astonishment, if not the edification, of their flocks. An attempt
was made by them to represent the effigy of Martin Luther, whom the
monks believed to be in league with Satan, under the form of a winged
serpent with a forked tail and hideous claws. Unfortunately Martin's
effigy, when ignited, refused to fly, and, instead of doing what was
required of it, fell against the chimney of a house to which it set
fire. The flames spread furiously in every direction, and were not
subdued until the town was nearly consumed.
In the early part of the sixteenth century a very determined attempt at
flying was made by an Italian who visited Scotland, and was patronised
by James the Fourth. He gained the favour of that monarch by holding
out to him hopes of replenishing his treasury by means of the
"philosopher's stone." The wily Italian managed, by his plausible
address, to obtain a position which replenished, to some degree, his own
empty purse, having been collated by royal favour to the abbacy of
Tungland, in Galloway. Being an ingenious fellow, and somewhat,
apparently, of an enthusiast, he spent some of his leisure time in
fashioning a pair of huge wings of various plumage, with which he
actually undertook to fly through the air from the walls of Stirling
Castle to France! That he believed himself to be capable of doing so
seems probable, from the fact that he actually made the attempt, but
fell to the ground with such violence as to break his leg. He was
sharp-witted, however, for instead of retiring crest-fallen at his
failure, he coolly accounted for the accident by saying, "My wings were
composed of various feathers; among them were the feathers of dunghill
fowls, and they, by a certain sympathy, were attracted to the dunghill;
whereas, had my wings been composed of eagles' feathers alone, the same
sympathy would have attracted them to the region of the air!"
About a century later a poor monk, whose boldness and enterprise were
more conspicuous than his prudence, attempted a similar feat. He
provided himself with a gigantic pair of wings, constructed on a
principle propounded by the rector of the grammar school of Tubingen, in
1617, and, leaping from the top of a high tower, fell to the ground,
broke both his legs, and lost his life.
It was long before men came to see and admit that in regard to this they
were attempting to accomplish the impossible.
There can be no doubt that it is absolutely impossible for man to fly by
the simple power of his own muscles, applied to any sort of machinery
whatever. This is not an open question. That man may yet contrive to
raise himself in the air by means of steam or electricity, or some other
motive power, remains to be seen. It does not seem probable, but no one
can say authoritatively that it is impossible. It is demonstrable,
however, that to rise, or even to remain suspended, in the air by means
of machinery impelled by human force alone is a feat which is as much an
impossibility as it is for a man, by the strength of his own legs, to
leap thirty or forty times his own length,--a grasshopper can do that
easily, and a bird can fly easily, but a man cannot, and never will be
able to do so, because his peculiar conformation forbids it.
This was first demonstrated by Borelli, an eminent Italian mathematician
and philosopher, who lived in a fertile age of discovery, and was
thoroughly acquainted with the true principles of mechanics and
pneumatics. He showed, by accurate calculation, the prodigious force,
which in birds must be exerted and maintained by the pectoral muscles,
with which the all-wise Creator has supplied them, and, by applying the
same principles to the structure of the human frame, he proved how
extremely disproportionate was the strength of the corresponding muscles
in man. In fact, the man who should attempt to fly like a bird would be
guilty of greater folly and ignorant presumption than the little infant
who should endeavour to perform the feats of a gladiator! It is well
for man in all things to attain, if possible, to a knowledge of what
certainly lies beyond his powers, for such knowledge prevents the waste
and misdirection of energies, as well as saving from disappointment and
other evil results.
But many of those enthusiasts, who have attempted at various periods of
the world's history to fly, did not fall into the error which we have
attempted to point out. On the contrary, they went intelligently to
work; their only aim being modestly to fly _somewhat_ after the manner
of a bird, but they all failed; nevertheless one philosopher, of modern
times, stoutly continued to assert the opinion that there is no
impossibility in man being able to fly _apparently_, though not really,
like a bird. He did not hold that man could ever fly as high, or as
far, or as fast, or in any degree as easily, as a bird. All that he
ventured to say was, that he might perhaps fly _somewhat like one_.
As the plan of this philosopher is rather curious, we shall detail it.
It is well known that balloons, filled with appropriate gas, will rise.
Big balloons and little ones are equally uppish in their tendencies. It
is also known that rotundity of form is not essential to the successful
rising of a balloon. "Well, then," says this philosopher, "what is to
prevent a man making two balloons, flattish, and in the form of wings,
which, instead of flying away with him, as ordinary balloons would
infallibly do, should be so proportioned to his size and weight as that
they would not do more than raise him an inch or so off the ground, and
so keep him stotting and bobbing lightly about, something like the
bright thin india-rubber balls with which children are wont to play
now-a-days?
"Having attained this position of, so to speak, readiness to fly, there
is nothing to prevent him from propelling himself gently along the
surface of the ground by means of fans, or, if you choose, small
flexible cloth wings attached to the hands and arms. The legs might
also be brought into play a little. It is obvious, however, that such
wings would require to be mounted only in calm weather, for a breeze of
wind would infallibly sweep the flyer off the face of the earth! We
would only observe, in conclusion, that, however ridiculous this method
of flying may appear in your eyes, this at least may be said in its
favour, that whereas all other plans that have been tried have signally
failed, _this_ plan has never failed--never having been tried! We throw
the idea before a discriminating public, in the hope that some aspiring
enthusiast, with plenty of means and nerve, and no family to mourn his
loss, may one day prove, to the confusion of the incredulous, that our
plan is not a mere flight of imagination!"
When men began to find that wings refused in any circumstances to waft
them to the realms of ether, they set about inventing aerial machines in
which to ascend through the clouds and navigate the skies.
In the fourteenth century a glimmering of the true principles on which a
balloon could be constructed was entertained by Albert of Saxony, a monk
of the order of Saint Augustin, but he never carried his theories into
practice. His opinion was that, since fire is more attenuated than air,
and floats above the region of our atmosphere, all that was necessary
would be to enclose a portion of such ethereal substance in a light
hollow globe which would thus be raised to a certain height, and kept
suspended in the sky, and that by introducing a portion of air into the
globe it would be rendered heavier than before, and might thus be made
to descend. This was in fact the statement of the principles on which
fire-balloons were afterwards constructed and successfully sent up,
excepting that air heated by fire, instead of fire itself, was used.
Others who came after Albert of Saxony held the same theory, but they
all failed to reduce it to practice, and most of these men coupled with
their correct notions on the subject, the very erroneous idea that by
means of masts, sails, and a rudder, a balloon might be made to sail
through the air as a ship sails upon the sea. In this they seem to have
confounded two things which are dissimilar, namely, a vessel driven
through water, and a vessel floating in air.
The fallacy here may be easily pointed out. A ship is driven through
water by a body in motion, namely, wind, while its rudder is dragged
through a body comparatively at rest, namely, water; hence the rudder
slides against or is pushed against the water, and according as it is
_turned_ to one side or the other, it is _pushed_ to one side or the
other, the stern of the ship going along with it, and the bow, of
course, making a corresponding motion in the opposite direction. Thus
the ship is turned or "steered," but it is manifest that if the ship
were at rest there would be no pushing of the rudder by the water--no
steering. On the other hand, if, though the ship were in motion, the
sea was also flowing at the _same rate_ with the wind, there would be no
flowing of water past the ship, the rudder would not be acted on, and
the vessel could not be steered.
Now a balloon, carried by the wind, cannot be steered by a rudder,
because it does not, like the ship, rest half in one medium which is in
motion, and half in another medium which is at rest. There is no
sliding of any substance past its side, no possibility therefore of
pushing a rudder against anything. All floats along _with_ the wind.
If, however, the balloon could be made to go _faster_ than the wind,
then steering would at once become possible; but sails cannot accomplish
this, because, although wind can drive a ship faster than water flows,
wind cannot drive a substance faster than itself flows.
The men of old did not, however, seem to take these points into
consideration. It yet remains to be seen whether steam shall ever be
successfully applied to aerial machines, but this may certainly be
assumed in the meantime, that, until by some means a balloon is
propelled _faster than the wind_ through the atmosphere, sails will be
useless, and steering, or giving direction, impossible.
It was believed, in those early times, when scientific knowledge was
slender, that the dew which falls during the night is of celestial
origin, shed by the stars, and drawn by the sun, in the heat of the day,
back to its native skies. Many people even went the length of asserting
that an egg, filled with the morning dew, would, as the day advanced,
rise spontaneously into the air. Indeed one man, named Father Laurus,
speaks of this as an observed fact, and gravely gives directions how it
is to be accomplished. "Take," says he, "a goose's egg, and having
filled it with dew gathered fresh in the morning, expose it to the sun
during the hottest part of the day, and it will ascend and rest
suspended for a few moments." Father Laurus must surely have omitted to
add that a goose's brains in the head of the operator was an element
essential to the success of the experiment!
But this man, although very ignorant in regard to the nature of the
substances, with which he wrought, had some quaint notions in his head.
He thought, for instance, that if he were to cram the cavity of an
artificial dove with highly condensed air, the imprisoned fluid would
impel the machine in the same manner as wind impels a sail. If this
should not be found to act effectively, he proposed to apply fire to it
in some way or other, and, to prevent the machine from being spirited
away altogether by that volatile element, asbestos, or some
incombustible material, was to be used as a lining. To feed and support
this fire steadily, he suggested a compound of butter, salts, and
orpiment, lodged in metallic tubes, which, he imagined, would at the
same time heighten the whole effect by emitting a variety of musical
tones like an organ!
Another man, still more sanguine than the lest in his aerial flights of
fancy, proposed that an ascent should be attempted by the application of
fire as in a rocket to an aerial machine. We are not, however, told
that this daring spirit ever ventured to try thus to invade the sky.
There can be no doubt that much ingenuity, as well as absurdity, has
been displayed in the various suggestions that have been made from time
to time, and occasionally carried into practice. One man went the
length of describing a huge apparatus, consisting of very long tin
pipes, in which air was to be compressed by the vehement action of fire
below. In a boat suspended from the machine a man was to sit and direct
the whole by the opening and shutting of valves.
Another scheme, more ingenious but not less fallacious, was propounded
in 1670 by Francis Lana, a Jesuit, for navigating the air. This plan
was to make four copper balls of very large dimensions, yet so extremely
thin that, after the air had been extracted, they should become, in a
considerable degree, specifically lighter than the surrounding medium.
Each of his copper balls was to be about 25 feet in diameter, with the
thickness of only the 225th part of an inch, the metal weighing 365
pounds avoirdupois, while the weight of the air which it should contain
would be about 670 pounds, leaving, after a vacuum had been formed, an
excess of 305 pounds for the power of ascension. The four balls would
therefore, it was thought, rise into the air with a combined force of
1220 pounds, which was deemed by Lana to be sufficient to transport a
boat completely furnished with masts, sails, oars, and rudders, and
carrying several passengers. The method by which the vacuum was to be
obtained was by connecting each globe, fitted with a stop-cock, to a
tube of at least thirty-five feet long; the whole being filled with
water; when raised to the vertical position the water would run out, the
stop-cocks would be closed at the proper time, and the vacuum secured.
It does not seem to have entered the head of this philosopher that the
weight of the surrounding atmosphere would crush and destroy his thin
exhausted receivers, but he seems to have been alarmed at the idea of
his supposed discovery being applied to improper uses, such as the
passing of desperadoes over fortified cities, on which they might rain
down fire and destruction from the clouds!
Perhaps the grandest of all the fanciful ideas that have been
promulgated on this subject was that of Galien, a Dominican friar, who
proposed to collect the fine diffused air of the higher regions, where
hail is formed, above the summit of the loftiest mountains, and to
enclose it in a cubical bag of enormous dimensions--extending more than
a mile every way! This vast machine was to be composed of the thickest
and strongest sail-cloth, and was expected to be capable of transporting
through the air a whole army with all their munitions of war!
There were many other devices which men hit upon, some of which embraced
a certain modicum of truth mixed with a large proportion of fallacy.
Ignorance, more or less complete, as to the principles and powers with
which they dealt, was, in days gone by, the cause of many of the errors
and absurdities into which men were led in their efforts to mount the
atmosphere. Our space, however, forbids further consideration of this
subject, which is undoubtedly one of considerable interest, and
encircled with a good deal of romance.
Turning away from all those early and fanciful speculations, we now come
to that period in the history of balloon voyaging, or aeronautics, when
true theories began to be philosophically applied, and ascending into
the skies became an accomplished fact.
CHAPTER TWO.
THE FIRST BALLOONS.
The germ of the invention of the balloon lies in the discovery of Mr
Cavendish, made in 1766, that hydrogen gas, called inflammable air, is
at least seven times lighter than atmospheric air. Founding on this
fact, Dr Black of Edinburgh proved by experiment that a very thin bag,
filled with this gas, would rise to the ceiling of a room.
In Dr Thomson's _History of Chemistry_, an anecdote, related by Mr
Benjamin Bell, refers to this as follows:--
"Soon after the appearance of Mr Cavendish's paper on hydrogen gas, in
which he made an approximation to the specific gravity of that body,
showing that it was at least ten times lighter than common air, Dr
Black invited a party of friends to supper, informing them that he had a
curiosity to show them. Dr Hutton, Mr Clerk of Eldin, and Sir George
Clerk of Penicuik, were of the number. When the company invited had
arrived, he took them into a room where he had the allantois of a calf
filled with hydrogen gas, and, upon setting it at liberty, it
immediately ascended and adhered to the ceiling. The phenomenon was
easily accounted for; it was taken for granted that a small black thread
had been attached to the allantois, that the thread passed through the
ceiling, and that some one in the apartment above, by pulling the
thread, elevated it to the ceiling, and kept it in its position! This
explanation was so plausible, that it was agreed to by the whole
company, though, like many other plausible theories, it turned out
wholly fallacious, for, when the allantois was brought down, no thread
whatever was found attached to it. Dr Black explained the cause of the
ascent to his admiring friends; but such was his carelessness of his own
reputation, that he never gave the least account of this curious
experiment even to his class, and several years elapsed before this
obvious property of hydrogen gas was applied to the elevation of
balloons."
Cavallo made the first practical attempts with hydrogen gas six years
later, but he only succeeded in causing soap-bubbles to ascend.
At last the art of aerial navigation was discovered in France, and in
1782 the first ascent was made. The triumph was achieved by Stephen and
Joseph Montgolfier, sons of a wealthy paper-maker who dwelt at Annonay,
on the banks of a rivulet which flows into the Rhone, not far from
Lyons.
These brothers were remarkable men. Although bred in a remote
provincial town, and without the benefit of a liberal education, they
were possessed in a high degree of ingenuity and the spirit of
observation. They educated themselves, and acquired an unusually large
stock of information, which their inventive and original minds led them
to apply in new fields of speculation. They were associated in business
with their father, a man who passed his quiet days like a patriarch
amidst a large family and a numerous body of dependants, until he
reached the advanced age of ninety-three.
Stephen devoted himself chiefly to the study of mathematics, Joseph to
chemistry; and they were accustomed to form their plans in concert. It
appears that they had long contemplated, with philosophical interest,
the floating and ascent of clouds in the air, and when they heard of or
read Cavendish's theories in regard to _different kinds of air_, it at
once struck them that by enclosing some gas lighter than the atmosphere
in a bag, a weight might be raised from the earth into the air.
The brothers Montgolfier were men of that vigorous stamp who act
promptly on receiving their convictions. At once they set about
experimenting, and constructed large bags of paper,--the substance which
naturally came readiest to their hands, and which appeared to them to be
best suited to their purpose. These were filled with hydrogen gas,
which raised them to the ceiling; but, owing to the escape of the gas
through the pores and cracks of the case, those embryo balloons
descended in a few minutes. Instead of varnishing the paper to prevent
the escape of the gas, and supposing, erroneously, that the fault lay in
the latter, they sought about for a new gas more suitable to the paper.
This they found, as they supposed, in the gas which resulted from the
combustion of wet straw and wool, which had an upward tendency, they
thought, on account of its electrical properties, which caused it to be
repelled from the ground. It is scarcely necessary now to point out
that the true cause of the upward tendency lay in the rarefaction of the
air by the heat of the fire, and that hot air has a tendency to rise
because its bulk is greatly increased beyond the same quantity of the
surrounding cold air.
Although wrong in assigning the cause of the result, they were right in
the application of it. While on a visit to Avignon Joseph Montgolfier
procured a silk bag having a small opening at its lower end, and a
capacity of about fifty cubic feet. Under the orifice some paper was
burnt; the air inside was heated and expanded so as to fill the bag,
which, when let go, soared rapidly up to the height of seventy or eighty
feet, where it remained until the air cooled and allowed it to descend.
Thus did the _first_ balloon ascend in the month of November 1782.
Delighted with their success, the indefatigable brothers resolved to
make further experiment on a larger scale. They procured a quantity of
packcloth or coarse linen, formed it into a globe about ninety feet in
circumference, lined it with paper, and lighted a fire under it in an
iron choffer. This balloon went up with a force which they estimated as
equivalent to 500 pounds.
After this the Montgolfiers appeared to have become ambitious of
accomplishing greater things, and giving to their discoveries publicity;
for we are told that, "they invited the members of the provincial
meeting of the states of the Vivarais, then assembled at Annonay, to
witness the first _public_ aerial ascent. On the 5th June 1783, amidst
a very large concourse of spectators, the spherical bag or balloon,
consisting of different pieces of linen, merely buttoned together, was
suspended from cross poles. Two men kindled a fire under it, and kept
feeding the flame with small bundles of chopped straw. The loose bag
gradually swelled, assuming a graceful form, and in the space of five
minutes it was completely distended, and made such an effort to escape
that eight men were required to hold it down.
"On a signal being given the stays were slipped, and the balloon
instantly rose with an accelerating motion till it reached some height,
when its velocity continued uniform, and carried it to an elevation of
more than a mile. All was admiration and transport. Amidst the shouts
of unbounded applause, the progress of the artificial cloud retiring
from sight arrested every eye. It was hurried along by the wind; but
its buoyant force being soon spent, it remained suspended only ten
minutes, and fell gently in a vineyard at a distance of about a mile and
a half from the place of its ascension. So memorable a feat lighted up
the glow of national vanity, and the two Montgolfiers were hailed and
exalted by the spontaneous impulse of their fellow-citizens."
This event created a sensation not only in France but over the whole of
Europe. In Paris, particularly, the effect on all classes was so great
that they determined to have the experiment repeated, set a subscription
on foot, and appointed a scientific man named Charles, and two brothers
of the name of Robert, to construct a balloon. This they did, but
instead of applying the Montgolfier motive power--heated air--they used
hydrogen gas, procured by the action of diluted sulphuric acid upon iron
filings. Their balloon, which was made of thin silk, varnished with a
solution of elastic gum, was a much nearer approach to the balloon of
modern days than that of Montgolfier. It was a great success; it rose
and remained suspended at a height of 100 feet, in which state it was
conveyed with acclamation to the Place des Victoires, where it rested
and underwent some repairs. At midnight it was conveyed in solemn
procession by torchlight, and guarded by a detachment of horse, to the
Champ de Mars, where, on the following day, the whole world of Paris
turned out to witness another ascent. The balloon went up to the sound
of cannon, and in two minutes reached a height of 3000 feet, when it was
lost for a time in a dark cloud, but speedily reappeared still higher.
After a flight of fifteen miles, performed in three-quarters of an hour,
it sunk to the ground in a field near Ecouen, where it was secured by
the peasants.
The Parisians now appeared to become balloon-mad. The Royal Academy of
Sciences invited Joseph Montgolfier to repeat his experiments, and
another balloon was prepared by him of coarse linen with a paper lining,
which, however, was destroyed by incessant and violent rain before it
could be tried. Undeterred by this, another was constructed by him,
which ascended from Versailles on the 19th of September 1783.
This balloon deserves peculiar notice as being the first which carried
up living creatures. A sheep, a cockerel, and a duck, were the first
aeronauts! They ascended to a height of about 1500 feet; remained
suspended for a time, and descended some two miles off in perfect
safety--indeed we may say in perfect comfort, for the sheep was
discovered to be quietly feeding when it returned to the earth!
The practicability of ballooning being now fairly established, men soon
began to venture their own persons in the frail cars. A young and
enthusiastic naturalist named Rozier leaped into the car of another of
Montgolfier's balloons soon after this, and ascended in safety to an
elevation of about 300 feet, but on this occasion the balloon was held
down by ropes. The ice, however, was broken, and bolder attempts
quickly followed.
CHAPTER THREE.
EARLY ATTEMPTS AT AERIAL NAVIGATION.
The first free and unfettered balloon voyage was performed very soon
after the event mentioned at the end of the last chapter. It was a
daring attempt, and attended with great danger.
A balloon made by Montgolfier was used. It was 75 feet high, 45 feet
wide, and spheroidal in form--heated air being the motive power. The
bold aeronauts, on this occasion, were the naturalist Rozier and the
Marquis d'Arlandes, a major of infantry. From the gardens of the
Chateau of Muetta they ascended on the 21st November 1783.
In the car there was a quantity of ballast, and a provision of straw to
feed the fire. The balloon mounted at first with a majestic steady
motion, gazed at in breathless wonder by thousands of spectators, who
assembled not only in the neighbourhood of the Chateau, but clustered on
every point of vantage in Paris.
When the daring voyagers reached a considerable height, they took off
their hats and waved them to their friends below, and the multitude--
realising, perhaps, that that which in former ages had been deemed the
dream of visionaries, was at last an accomplished fact--responded with
enthusiastic acclamations until the balloon passed upwards through the
clouds and was lost to view.
It would seem that these first aeronauts were of different temperaments;
for, after they had reached a height of nearly 3000 feet, and the earth
was no longer distinguishable, the Marquis began to think that he had
seen enough of the upper regions, would fain have descended, and
murmured against his companion, who still kept feeding the fire.
Apparently his alarm was justifiable, for Rozier continued recklessly to
heap on fuel, until he almost set the balloon on fire. On hearing some
cracks from the top, and observing some holes burning in its sides, the
Marquis became so alarmed that he compelled his companion to desist, and
with wet sponges stopped the conflagration, which had actually begun.
When the fire diminished, however, the balloon began to descend much
quicker than was safe or agreeable, and the marquis himself began to
throw fresh straw on the fire to enable them to clear the roofs of
Paris. This they did very dexterously, considering that they were so
unaccustomed to such navigation, throwing on just as much fuel as was
sufficient for the purpose, and keeping clear of steeples and chimneys
until they alighted in safety beyond the Boulevards. Their voyage
lasted about half-an-hour, and they described a track of six miles
around Paris, having ascended to a height of 3000 feet.
Thus was the first balloon voyage successfully accomplished by the
French; and the Montgolfiers, besides enjoying the triumph which their
persevering efforts deserved, were awarded the annual prize--six hundred
livres--of the Academy of Sciences. The elder brother was invited to
Court, decorated with the badge of Saint Michael, and received a patent
of nobility; while the younger received a pension and a sum of forty
thousand livres wherewith to prosecute his experiments with balloons.
The great success of the Montgolfier balloons naturally threw the
efforts of Monsieur Charles and the brothers Robert into the shade.
Nevertheless those gentlemen had got hold of a better principle than
their rivals; and, knowing this, they resolved to convince the sceptical
by constructing another balloon. They wisely began by obtaining
subscriptions to enable them to carry out their designs, and finally
succeeded in making a globe formed of tiffany, covered with elastic
varnish, which was twenty-eight feet in diameter. This they filled with
hydrogen gas. Some idea of their difficulties and expenses may be
gathered from the fact that the mere filling of the balloon required an
apparatus which cost about 400 pounds sterling, one-half of which was
expended on the production of the gas alone.
The ascent of this balloon deserves to be regarded with special
interest, because, besides being the first _hydrogen_ balloon which
carried up human beings, it was the first in which scientific
observations were made and recorded. Monsieur Charles was a lecturer on
natural philosophy, and, like our own great aeronaut, Mr Glaisher, does
not seem to have been content to produce merely a spectacle, but went up
to the realms of ether with an intelligent and scientific eye; for we
read of him recording the indications of the thermometer and barometer
at different heights and under various conditions.
There were many accidents and delays in the construction of this
balloon; but at last, on the 1st December 1783, it was taken to the
Tuileries and there filled with gas. The process was slow, as the gas
had to be generated in large quantities by means of diluted sulphuric
acid and iron filings put into wooden casks disposed round a large
cistern, from which it was conveyed through water in long leaden pipes.
To keep the impatient populace quiet, therefore, during the tedious
operation, Montgolfier sent up one of his fire-balloons.
At last, when it was sufficiently filled, Messieurs Charles and Robert
stepped into the car, which was ballasted with sandbags, and the ropes
were let go. It went up with slow and solemn motion, at the rate of
about five miles an hour. "The car," writes a reporter of the day in
language more inflated than the balloon itself, "ascending amidst
profound silence and admiration, allowed, in its soft and measured
ascent, the bystanders to follow with their eyes and hearts two
interesting men, who, like demigods, soared to the abode of the
immortals, to receive the reward of intellectual progress, and carry the
imperishable name of Montgolfier. After the globe had reached the
height of 2000 feet, it was no longer possible to distinguish the aerial
navigators; but the coloured pennants which they waved in the air
testified their safety and their tranquil feelings. All fears were now
dissipated; enthusiasm succeeded to astonishment; and every
demonstration was given of joy and applause."
The period of flight was an hour and three-quarters, which, for those
early days of the art, was a pretty long voyage. By throwing over
ballast the voyagers ascended, and by letting off gas they descended at
pleasure; and they observed that during an hour, while they were exposed
to the sun's rays, the gas was heated up to the temperature of
fifty-five degrees of Fahrenheit's scale, which had the effect of
sensibly increasing the buoyancy of the balloon. They descended safely
on the meadow of Nesle, about twenty-five miles from Paris.
But, not content with what he had accomplished, Monsieur Charles made a
sudden resolve to have another flight alone. The shades of night were
falling, and the sun had already set, when the enthusiastic aeronaut
re-entered the car, and, casting off the grapnels, began his solitary
night voyage. He was well rewarded. The balloon shot up with such
celerity as to reach the height of about two miles in ten minutes, and
the sun rose again to him in full orb! From his lofty station he
watched it until it set again below the distant horizon. Probably
Monsieur Charles was the first man in the world, on whom the sun thus
rose and set twice in the same day!
In such regions, at that romantic period of night, the aeronaut, as
might have been expected, saw strange unearthly sights. Rising vapours
concealed the lower world from view, and the moon shed her pale rays on
accumulated masses of clouds, casting various hues over their fantastic
and changing forms. No wonder that one thus surrounded by objects of
awful grandeur and sublimity, left, as it were, more completely alone
with God than any of his fellow-mortals, found it impossible to refrain
from giving vent to his emotion in tears.
Monsieur Charles did not remain long at this elevation. As the cold was
excessive, and night advancing, he deemed it prudent to descend; opened
the safety-valve, out of which the gas rushed like a misty vapour with a
whistling noise, and, after the lapse of a little more than half an
hour, alighted in safety near the wood of Tour du Lay, having travelled
about nine miles.
After this, balloon ascents became frequent. We cannot here give a
particular account of each, even if it were desirable to do so, but,
before passing to the consideration of the more recent voyages, we shall
run over a few facts and incidents that occurred during the early period
of aerial navigation.
The first lady who went up in a balloon was a Madame Thible. She
ascended from Lyons on 28th June 1784 with a Monsieur Fleurant in a
fire-balloon. This lady of Lyons mounted to the extraordinary elevation
of 13,500 feet--at least so it was estimated. The flagstaff, a pole of
fourteen pounds weight, was thrown out and took seven minutes to reach
the ground. The thermometer dropped to minus 43 degrees Fahrenheit, and
the voyagers felt a ringing sensation in their ears.
The first long voyage accomplished was about the same period, by a
balloon constructed by Monsieur Robert, which was filled with hydrogen.
It was 56 feet in height, and 36 in diameter. The Duke de Chartres
ascended in it along with Robert and two others to a considerable
height, and in five hours performed a voyage of 135 miles. This machine
was furnished with a helm and four oars, for men still laboured under
the erroneous belief that it was possible to direct the course of a
balloon.
One of the most interesting balloon voyages of the last century was that
of Monsieur Testu. He ascended from Paris on the 18th June 1786 in a
balloon of glazed tiffany, 29 feet in diameter, which was constructed by
himself. It was filled with hydrogen, and had wings as well as oars!
When the aeronaut deemed it advisable to descend, he attempted to do so
by using the wings. These had little or no power, but the gradual waste
of gas lowered him until he alighted safely in a corn field in the plain
of Montmorency. Here he began to collect stones without quitting the
car; but while thus engaged, was seized by the proprietor of the field
with a troop of peasants, who demanded indemnification for the damage
alleged to have been done by him. Poor Testu assured them that his
wings being broken, he was at their mercy, whereupon the stupid and
ill-natured boors seized the stay of the balloon, which floated some
height above the ground, and dragged him in triumph towards their
village. Their triumph, however, was short-lived. Finding that the
loss of his wings and some other articles had lightened him
considerably, he quietly cut the cord and bade the clowns an abrupt
farewell!
Testu then rose to the clouds, where he experienced the violence and
witnessed the grandeur of a thunderstorm, the terrible nature of which
was greatly increased when night closed in, while lightning flashed on
all sides, thunder reverberated in the sky, and sleet fell copiously
around him. On this voyage he saw some hunters in a field, and
descended to observe them! He remained out all night, saw the sun set
and rise, and finally alighted near the village of Campremi, about
sixty-three miles from Paris.
CHAPTER FOUR.
THE FIRST AERIAL VOYAGES MADE IN GREAT BRITAIN--SUCCEEDING ASCENTS.
The credit of the first aerial voyage made in Great Britain has usually
been given to Vincenzo Lunardi, an Italian. There is ground for
believing, however, that the first balloon voyage was performed by a
Scotchman, as the following extract from Chamber's _Book of Days_ will
show:--
"It is generally supposed that Lunardi was the first person who ascended
by means of a balloon in Great Britain, but he certainly was not. A
very poor man, named James Tytler, who then lived in Edinburgh,
supporting himself and family in the humblest style of garret or cottage
life by the exercise of his pen, had this honour. He had effected an
ascent at Edinburgh on the 27th of August 1784, just nineteen days
previous to Lunardi. Tytler's ascent, however, was almost a failure, by
his employing the dangerous and unmanageable Montgolfier principle.
After several ineffectual attempts, Tytler, finding that he could not
carry up his fire-stove with him, determined, in the maddening
desperation of disappointment, to go without this his sole sustaining
power. Jumping into his car, which was no other than a common crate
used for packing earthenware, he and the balloon ascended from Comely
Garden, and immediately afterwards fell in the Restalrig Road. For a
wonder, Tytler was uninjured; and though he did not reach a greater
altitude than 300 feet, nor traverse a greater distance than half a
mile, yet his name must ever be mentioned as that of the first Briton
who ascended with a balloon, and the first man who ascended in Britain.
"Tytler was the son of a clergyman of the Church of Scotland, and had
been educated as a surgeon; but being of an eccentric and erratic
genius, he adopted literature as a profession, and was the principal
editor of the first edition of the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_. Becoming
embroiled in politics, he published a handbill of a seditious tendency,
and consequently was compelled to seek a refuge in America, where he
died in 1805, after conducting a newspaper at Salem, in New England, for
several years."
The voyage of Vincenzo Lunardi was made in September 1784. His letters
to a friend, in which he comments on the manners and customs of the
English, are very amusing. His balloon was of the ordinary spherical
shape, made of the best oiled silk, about 520 yards of which were used
in its construction. It was filled with hydrogen gas, and provided with
car, oars, and wings. The car consisted simply of a wooden platform
surrounded by a breast high railing, and the oars and wings were
intended, the one to check, by a vertical motion, the rapidity of
descent, and the other to act as sails when becalmed in the upper
regions of cloudland. He requested permission to make Chelsea Hospital
the scene of his first aerial exploit, and the Governor, Sir George
Howard, with the full approval of His Majesty King George the Third,
gave his consent. He accordingly made all necessary arrangements for an
ascent, and his fondest expectations seemed about to be realised. He
was, however, doomed to disappointment, owing to the failure of a rival
balloon. Writing to a friend at this time he says, "The events of this
extraordinary island are as variable as its climate. It was but lately
everything relating to my undertaking wore a favourable and pleasing
appearance, but I am at this moment overwhelmed with anxiety, vexation,
and despair."