having succeeded in attracting a concourse of fifty or sixty thousand
people to see his ascent, failed in the primary part of his
undertaking,--that of filling his balloon. The people, after waiting
patiently for three hours, and supposing "the whole affair an imposture,
rushed in and tore it to pieces." In consequence of this failure, and
the riots with which it was followed, the Governor forbade Signor
Lunardi to make his ascent from Chelsea Hospital grounds. He writes
again to his friend, "The national prejudice of the English against
France is supposed to have its full effect on a subject, from which the
_literati_ of England expect to derive but little honour. An
unsuccessful attempt has been made by a Frenchman, and my name being
that of a foreigner, a very excusable ignorance in the people may place
me among the adventurers of that nation, who are said to have sometimes
distinguished themselves here by ingenious impositions." In vain did he
try to obtain another place to launch his aerial ship; he was laughed at
and ridiculed as an impostor, and the colleague of De Moret. At length,
after much exertion, he obtained leave to ascend from the ground of the
Honourable Artillery Company. By twelve o'clock on the day fixed for
the ascension, an immense mass of people had assembled, including the
Prince of Wales. The filling of the balloon caused some delay, but, in
order to keep the patience of the populace within control, it was only
partially filled. At five minutes past two the balloon ascended amid
the loud acclamations of the assembled multitudes, and Signor Lunardi
had proved himself no impostor. He writes to his friend, "The
stillness, extent, and magnificence of the scene rendered it highly
awful. My horizon seemed a perfect circle, the terminating line several
hundred miles in circumference; this I conjectured from the view of
London, the extreme points of which formed an angle only a few degrees.
It was so reduced on the great scale before me that I can find no simile
to convey an idea of it. I could distinguish Saint Paul's and other
churches from the houses; I saw the streets as lines, all animated with
beings whom I knew to be men and women, but which otherwise I should
have had a difficulty in describing. It was an enormous bee-hive, but
the industry of it was suspended. All the moving mass seemed to have no
object but myself, and the transition from the suspicion, perhaps
contempt, of the preceding hour, to the affectionate transport,
admiration, and glory of the present moment, was not without its effect
on my mind. It seemed as if I had left below all the cares and passions
that molest mankind. I had not the slightest sense of motion in the
machine; I knew not whether it went swiftly or slowly, whether it
ascended or descended, whether it was agitated or tranquil, but by the
appearance or disappearance of objects on the earth. The height had not
the effect which a much less degree of it has near the earth, that of
producing giddiness. The gradual diminution of objects, and the masses
of light and shade, are intelligible in oblique and common prospects,
but here everything wore a new appearance and had a new effect. The
face of the country had a mild and permanent verdure, to which Italy is
a stranger. The variety of cultivation and the accuracy with which
property is divided give the idea, ever present to the stranger in
England, of good civil laws and an equitable administration. The
rivulets meandering; the immense districts beneath me spotted with
cities, towns, villages, and houses, pouring out their inhabitants to
hail my appearance. You will allow me some merit in not having been
exceedingly intoxicated with my situation." He descended at North Mimms
about half-past three-o'clock, but wishing to obtain a second triumph,
he threw out the remainder of his ballast and provisions, landed a cat
which he had taken up with him, and which had suffered severely from the
cold, and again ascended to the regions above. This time his ascent was
more rapid, the thermometer quickly fell to 29 degrees, and icicles were
soon formed all round his machine. He descended at twenty minutes past
four near Ware in Hertfordshire, and the balloon being properly secured,
the gas was let out and "nearly poisoned the whole neighbourhood by the
disagreeable stench emitted." The success and triumph of this first
attempt in aerial navigation in English air exceeded Signor Lunardi's
utmost expectations. Everywhere he was received with marks of
approbation, and treated as a hero. "My fame," he writes, "has not been
sparingly diffused by the newspapers (which in England are the
barometers of public opinion; often erroneous, as other instruments are,
in their particular information, but yielding the best that can be
obtained). You will imagine the importance of these vehicles of
knowledge when you learn that in London alone there are printed no less
than 160,000 papers weekly, which, by a stamp on each paper, and a duty
on advertisements, brings into the treasury of the nation upwards of
80,000 pounds a year. They are to the English constitution what the
Censors were to those of ancient Rome. Ministers of State are checked
and kept in awe by them, and they freely, and often judiciously, expose
the pretensions of those who would harass Government merely to be taken
into its service."
There were many other aeronauts who distinguished themselves after this
period.
In 1785, Monsieur Blanchard, with Dr J. Jeffries, an American, crossed
the channel between England and France in a balloon--starting from
Dover, and descending in safety in the Forest of Guiennes. They had,
however, a narrow escape, having been compelled to throw out all their
ballast, and everything they could dispense with, to prevent their
balloon from falling into the sea.
The first ascents for scientific purposes were made about the beginning
of the present century. In 1803, Mr Robertson ascended from Saint
Petersburg, for the purpose of making electrical, magnetical, and
physiological experiments. Messieurs Gay-Lussac and Biot followed his
example from Paris, in 1804. Gay-Lussac was an enthusiastic and
celebrated aeronaut. He made several interesting ascents.
Two years afterwards, Brioschi, the Astronomer-Royal at Naples,
endeavoured to ascend to a higher elevation than had been reached by
Monsieur Gay-Lussac--namely, 22,977 feet. He was accompanied by Signor
Andreani, the first Italian aeronaut. The balloon burst when at a great
height, but the remnants were sufficient to check the descent so much
that both gentlemen escaped with their lives. Brioschi, however,
received injuries which afterwards resulted in his death.
In England one of the most famous aeronauts was Mr Green, who
introduced coal gas for balloons, and made many hundreds of ascents. In
the year 1836 he ascended from London in a coal-gas balloon, and with
two other gentlemen made an aerial voyage to Weilburg in the grand Duchy
of Nassau. It lasted eighteen hours, and extended over 500 miles.
CHAPTER FIVE.
PARACHUTES.
Of the other voyages which were made in balloons in our own country and
in foreign lands about this period we shall say nothing, but, before
describing the most interesting of recent ascents, give a short account
of the parachute.
This contrivance has been considered by some a very important adjunct to
the balloon; whether it be so or no, we do not pretend to determine, but
certainly it is an interesting and curious machine, which merits notice.
The parachute may be described as a species of gigantic umbrella
attached to the balloon below the car, which hangs in a loose form while
ascending, but expands, of necessity, when cut adrift and allowed to
descend. As the balloon has a car hung beneath it, so in like manner
the parachute has a small car or basket, capable of holding one person,
suspended from it. The word signifies a _guard against falling_--from
the French _parer_, to ward off, and _chute_, a fall, and is allied to
_parasol_, which means literally "a warder off of the sun."
The parachute was introduced some years after a terrible accident which
occurred to the celebrated aeronaut Rozier, who, desirous of emulating
Blanchard and Jeffries by crossing the channel from France to England in
a balloon, made an attempt, which cost him his life. Rozier's balloon
was about forty feet in diameter, and had attached to it, beneath, a
smaller balloon on the Montgolfier principle. On the 15th of June 1785,
he entered the car with Monsieur Romain, and ascended to the height of
above three thousand feet, when it was observed by the spectators that
the lower balloon had caught fire. With horror they saw that the fire
spread--the whole apparatus was in a blaze--and in another minute it
descended like a shattered meteor to the ground with a terrible crash.
It fell near the sea-shore, about four miles from Boulogne, and of
course the unfortunate voyagers were killed instantaneously. At a later
period a Venetian nobleman and his lady fell with their balloon from a
great height and were killed. It must be remarked, however, that cases
of this kind were very rare, considering the rage which there was at
that period for ballooning.
In order to provide aeronauts with a means of escape--a last resource in
case of accident--the parachute was invented. It may be regarded as a
balloon's lifeboat, which will (perhaps!) bear the passengers in safety
to the ground in case of balloon-wreck.
Doubtless the umbrella suggested the parachute. Every one knows the
tremendous force that this implement exerts in a high wind if the
unfortunate owner should happen to get turned round in the wrong
direction. The men of the east have, it is said, turned this power to
account by making use of an umbrella to enable them to leap from
considerable heights. In particular, a native of Siam, who was noted
for his feats of agility, was wont to amuse the King and his court by
taking tremendous leaps, having two small umbrellas with long slender
handles attached to his girdle. These eased him down in safety, but he
was occasionally driven by the wind against trees or houses, and
sometimes into a neighbouring river.
In case any adventurous individual should be tempted to make trial of
the powers of himself and his umbrella in this way, we think it right,
by way of caution, to tell him that the French General Bournonville, who
was imprisoned in the fortress of Olmutz in 1793, became so desperate
that he attempted to regain his freedom by leaping with an umbrella from
his window, which was forty feet from the ground. He hoped that the
umbrella would break his fall. Doubtless it did so to some extent, and
saved him from being killed, but being a large heavy man, he came down
with sufficient violence to break his leg, and was carried back to his
dungeon.
The chief differences between a parachute and an umbrella lie in the
great size of the former, and in the cords which stretch from the outer
points of its ribs to the lower end of the handle. These cords give it
strength, and prevent it from turning inside out. There is also a hole
in the top of the parachute to allow some of the air to escape.
The first parachute was constructed by Blanchard in 1785, and a dog was
the first living creature that descended in it, and reached the earth
unhurt. Blanchard afterwards made a descent in person at Basle, and
broke his leg in the fall.
The bold aeronaut Monsieur Garnerin next ventured to make the perilous
descent. He visited London in 1802, and made several ascents in a
balloon. During one of these, on the evening of the 2nd November, he
cut himself adrift in his parachute when at a vast height. The
parachute was made of white canvas, having thirty-two gores, which, when
not in use, hung with its cords from a hoop near the top of the machine.
When expanded, it formed a vast umbrella of twenty-three feet in
diameter, with a small basket about four feet high, and two and a
quarter wide, suspended below it. Monsieur Garnerin stood in this
basket when his balloon mounted into the air from an enclosure near
North Audley Street. The parachute hung like a curtain over his head,
above it towered the balloon, beneath stood the anxious multitude.
Well might they gaze in breathless expectation! After floating for some
time in the upper regions of the air, as if he dreaded to make the bold
attempt, he cut the cord that fastened him to the balloon when at the
height, probably, of about half a mile. At first the parachute remained
closed and descended with frightful violence; then it burst open, and
for some seconds tossed about to such an extent that the basket was
sometimes thrown almost into a horizontal position. The wind carried it
over Marylebone and Somerstown; it almost grazed some of the houses of
Saint Pancras in passing, and finally came to the ground in a field with
such violence that poor Garnerin was thrown on his face and severely cut
and bruised. No wonder that we are told he received a terrible shock.
He trembled violently, and blood flowed from his nose and ears.
Nevertheless, the accident did not deter his daughter from afterwards
making the descent several times--and in safety.
The cause of the irregularity and violence of Garnerin's descent was the
giving way of one of the stays, which had the effect of deranging the
balance of the apparatus.
In 1837 Mr Cocking invented a new parachute, which he hoped would be
free from the faults of the other. It may be described as being the
reverse of that of Garnerin, being made in the form of an umbrella blown
inside out. The resistance to the air, it was thought, would be
sufficient to check the rapid descent, while its form would prevent the
tendency to oscillate.
This parachute was 34 feet in diameter, and was distended by a strong
hoop to prevent its closing. There was also a hole in the middle of it,
about 6 feet in diameter. Mr Cocking started from Vauxhall Gardens on
the 24th of July, and after ascending to a considerable height, cut
himself loose from his balloon when over Blackheath. The parachute
descended rapidly, and vibrated with great violence; the large hoop
broke, the machine collapsed, and the unfortunate aeronaut was killed,
and his body dreadfully mutilated.
Fatal accidents of this kind were to be expected; nevertheless it is a
fact that the disasters which have befallen aeronauts have been
comparatively few, considering the extreme danger to which they are
necessarily exposed, not only from the delicacy of the materials, with
which they operate, and the uncertainty of the medium through which they
move, but, particularly, because of the impossibility of giving
direction to their air-ships, or to arrest their progress through space.
Parachutes, however, are not so absolutely incapable of being directed
as are balloons. Monsieur Nadar writes on this point as follows:--
"Let us consider the action of the parachute.
"A parachute is a sort of umbrella, in which the handle is replaced at
its point of insertion by an opening intended to ease the excess of air,
in order to avoid the strong oscillations, chiefly at the moment at
which it is first expanded. Cords, departing symmetrically from divers
points of the circumference, meet concentrically at the basket in which
is the aeronaut. Above this basket, and at the entrance of the folded
parachute, that is to say, closed during the rise, a hoop of sufficient
diameter is intended to facilitate, at the moment of the fall, the
entrance of the air which, rushing in under the pressure, expands the
folds more easily and rapidly.
"Now the parachute, where the weight of the car, of the attaching cords,
and the wrigglings of the aeronaut, is in equilibrium with the
expansion--the parachute, which seems to have no other aim but to
moderate the shock in falling--the parachute even has been found capable
of being directed, and aeronauts who have practised it, take care not to
forget it. If the current is about to drive the aeronaut over a place
where the descent is dangerous--say a river, a town, or a forest--the
aeronaut perceiving to his right, let us suppose, a piece of ground
suitable for his purpose, pulls at the cords which surround the right
side, and by thus imparting a greater obliquity to his roof of silk,
glides through the air, which it cleaves obliquely, towards the desired
spot. Every descent, in fact, is determined by the side on which the
incline is greatest."
That these are not mere theoretical opinions or conjectures is certain
from the fact that Mademoiselle Garnerin once wagered to guide herself
with a parachute from the point of separation from her balloon to a
place determined and very remote. By the combined inclinations which
could be given to her parachute, she was seen in fact, very distinctly,
to manoeuvre and tend towards the appointed place, and succeeded at
length in alighting within a few yards of it.
CHAPTER SIX.
ASCENTS BY MESSRS. GLAISHER AND COXWELL.
We now come to that point in our subject where it is appropriate to give
more detailed and graphic accounts of the recent doings of aeronauts.
An extremely interesting description of a scientific balloon ascent is
given by the celebrated aeronaut, Mr Glaisher, in a pamphlet, from
which we shall make a few extracts. [See Note 1.] His description is
illustrative of the subject of ballooning, and contains the salient
points of several ascents.
He asks us to imagine the balloon somewhat more than half inflated,
eager for flight, with only one link connecting it with earth, namely, a
rope attached to an instrument, called a liberating iron catch. When
all the ballast, instruments, etcetera, were placed in the car, Mr
Coxwell brought the balloon to a _nice_ and _even_ balance, so that the
addition of twenty pounds would have prevented it from rising.
As the moment for departure drew near, friends became impatient, and
every one anxiously watched the final arrangements, which were made by
Mr Coxwell, on whom was laid the important duty of _letting go_. His
hand was on the catch, his countenance was fixed, and his expression
stern, as he gazed up into the heavens. He was waiting for the right
moment, for the sky was partially cloudy, and it was necessary to wait
until the balloon was midway between the cloud that had just passed and
the next that was approaching, so that the aeronauts might have a clear
sky, and be able to see the earth they were about to quit for a time.
Nor was this all; he knew that in every wind, however strong it might
be, there are periods of calm. If he could start in one of these he
would avoid much rotatory motion. The deciding, therefore, of the exact
moment for making a fair start was not so easy a matter as one might
suppose.
Some one at this critical time, with the characteristic eagerness of
poor human nature to "put its finger in the pie," cried out "Now!" and
another shouted "Pull!" but Mr Coxwell, regardless of every one,
decided for himself; and, just when the wind lulled and the sun shone
bright, and the balloon stood proudly erect, he pulled the trigger and
they were free.
But they were more than free. They were suddenly in profound repose,
for--however high the wind may be, however agitated the balloon, swaying
to and fro with sudden and violent action, despite the efforts of many
hands that endeavour to restrain it,--no sooner do aeronauts quit their
hold of earth, than, in an instant, all agitation ceases and they are in
perfect stillness, without any sense of motion whatever; and this
freedom continues throughout the entire flight--except, indeed, when
they sink so low as to come into contact with mother earth, when the
serenity of their flight is terribly and violently interrupted, as shall
be seen in the case of another balloon voyage hereafter to be described.
They were now fairly away, but we pause to remark, before joining them
in their voyage, that their object on this occasion was not merely
amusement--scientific investigation and experiment were their aim. In
order that the reader may have some idea of the nature of such, we
subjoin Mr Glaisher's list of the objects of his experiments:
The primary objects were, he says, "to determine, at various heights, up
to five miles--first, the pressure of the atmosphere; _second_, the
temperature of the air; _third_, the hygrometrical (or moist-measured)
states of the air."
The secondary objects were:
"To compare the readings of an aneroid barometer with those of a
mercurial barometer, up to five miles.
"To determine the electrical state of the air.
"To determine the oxygenic state of the atmosphere by means of ozone
papers.
"To determine the time of vibration of a magnet on the earth, and at
different distances from it.
"To determine the temperature of the dew point by Daniell's dew point
hygrometer and Regnault's condensing hygrometer, and by the use of the
dry and wet bulb thermometers, as ordinarily used, and their use when
under the influence of the aspirator, causing considerable volumes of
air to pass over both their bulbs, at different elevations, as high as
possible, but particularly up to heights where man may be resident, or
where troops may be located, as in the high table-lands and plains of
India; with the view of ascertaining what confidence may be placed in
the use of the dry and wet bulb thermometers at those elevations, by
comparison with Daniell's and Regnault's hygrometers; and also to
compare the results as found by the two hygrometers together.
"To collect air at different elevations.
"To note the height and kind of clouds, their density and thickness at
different elevations.
"To determine the rate and direction of different currents in the
atmosphere if possible.
"To make observations on sound.
"To note atmospherical phenomena in general, and to make general
observations."
With these objects in view the aeronauts left _terra firma_ and soared
into the skies.
"Once away," says Mr Glaisher, "we are both immediately at work; we
have no time for graceful acknowledgments to cheering friends. Mr
Coxwell must put the car in order, and accordingly looks to it, to his
balloon, and to the course we are taking; and I must get my instruments
in order, and without delay place them in their situations, adjust them,
and take a reading as soon as possible.
"In a few minutes we are from 1000 to 2000 feet high. Mr Coxwell looks
intently upwards to see how the huge folds of the balloon fill into the
netting. If we have started from a town, we now hear its busy hum, and
the now fast fading cheers of our assembled friends naturally attract
our attention. We behold at a glance the quickly-diminishing forms of
the objects which we so lately left, and then resume our work.
"Presently Mr Coxwell, who is always alive to the beauties of the
ever-varying scene below, and to the opening landscape, fixes his eye
upon me, and, just when a rural scene of surpassing beauty is lighted up
in the west, he summons me to look and admire. I struggle against
picturesque temptations, somewhat at variance with my duties, but cannot
so quickly suppress them. A fine cloud rears its Alpine cap in close
proximity to the car; Mr Coxwell looks as delighted as an artist when
he displays a magnificent painting. I feel I must conquer such
enchantment, and exclaim, `Beautiful! grand indeed!' and again resume my
observations, with a cold philosophic resolve to pursue my readings
without further interruption.
"For a while I am quiet, the instruments affording indication that we
are rising rapidly. Mr Coxwell again disturbs me just as we are
approaching the clouds, and recommends a farewell peep at mother earth;
and just as I take this, the clouds receive us, at first in a light
gauze of vapour, and then in their chilly embrace, where I examine their
structure, and note the temperature of the dew point particularly.
"Shortly it becomes lighter, the light gradually increasing, till it is
succeeded by a flood of light, at first striking, then dazzling, and we
pass out of the dense cloud to where the clouds open out in bold and
fantastic shapes, showing us light and shadow, and spectral scenes, with
prismatic embellishments, disporting themselves around us in wild
grandeur, till at length we break out into brilliant sunshine, and the
clouds roll away in a perfect sea of vapour, obscuring the earth
entirely; so that now in perfect silence I note the circumstances, and
make my observations for some time uninterruptedly.
"After a time Mr Coxwell directs my attention to the fact that the
balloon is full, and that the gas is coming out from the safety-valve.
I of course look, for this is an exciting moment. He then directs my
attention to the fit and proportions of the netting. I find the gas,
which was before cloudy and opaque, is now clear and transparent, so
that I can look right up the balloon and see the meshes of the net-work
showing through it, the upper valve with its springs and line reaching
to the car, and the geometrical form of the balloon itself. Nor is this
an idle examination. I have already said that, in passing through the
cloud, the netting would gather moisture, augmenting the weight of the
balloon. If this should not all have evaporated, the net-work would
have become frozen, and be a wire-rope; so that, if the diamond shape of
the netting when under tension, and the form of the crown of the
balloon, be not symmetrical, the weight might not be equally
distributed, and there would be danger of it cutting the balloon. A
sense of security therefore follows such an examination.
"A stream of gas now continually issues from the neck, which is very
capacious, being fully two square feet in area, which is always left
open. Presently I see Mr Coxwell, whose eye has been continually
watching the balloon, pass his fingers over the valve-line, as if in
readiness to pull the cord. I observe a slight gathering on his brow,
and look inquiringly at him. He says, `I have decided upon opening the
large upper valve,' and carefully explains why. `The tension,' he says,
`in the balloon is not greater than it would bear with safety in a warm
stratum of air; but now that we are three miles up with a chilled
balloon, it is better to allow some to escape at top, as well as a good
deal from the neck.' At once I see the force of the argument, and
inwardly infer that I am in no way dependent upon chance, and not likely
to suffer from carelessness with Mr Coxwell. We are now far beyond all
ordinary sounds from the earth; a sea of clouds is below us, so dense
that it is difficult to persuade ourselves that we have passed through
them. Up to this time little or no inconvenience is met with; but on
passing above four miles, much personal discomfort is experienced;
respiration becomes difficult; the beating of the heart at times is
audible; the hands and lips become blue, and at higher elevations the
face also; and it requires the exercise of a strong will to make and
record observations. Before getting to our highest point, Mr Coxwell
counts the number of his sandbags, and calculates how much higher we can
go, with respect to the reserve of ballast necessary to regulate the
descent.
"Then I feel a vibration in the car, and, on turning round, see Mr
Coxwell in the act of lowering down the grapnel, then looking up at the
balloon, then scanning the horizon, and weighing apparently in his mind
some distant clouds through which we are likely to pass in going down.
"A glance suffices to show that his mind is made up how much higher it
is prudent to rise, and how much ballast it is expedient to preserve.
"The balloon is now lingering, as it were, under the deep blue vault of
space, hesitating whether to mount higher or begin its descent without
further warning. We now hold a consultation, and then look around from
the highest point, giving silent scope to those emotions of the soul
which are naturally called forth by such a wide-spread range of
creation.
"Our course is now about to change. But here I interpose with `No, no;
stop; not yet; let us remain so long that the instruments are certain to
take up the true temperature, and that no doubt can rest upon the
observations here. When I am satisfied I shall say, "Pull."'