Morveau at Dijon.
The most popular name in aerostation during the Revolution and the
Consulate in France is, without doubt, that of Blanchard. We have
already referred to him in the chapter which treats of experiments made
prior to the discovery of Montgolfier, and we now have to speak of his
famous ascent from the Champ de Mars, on the 2nd of March 1784, and of
the ascents which followed.
We have seen that he constructed a sort of flying boat, a machine
furnished with oars and rigging, with which he managed to sustain
himself some moments in the air at the height of eighty feet. This
curious machine was exhibited in 1782 in the gardens of the great
hotel of the Rue Taranne. But a little time afterwards Montgolfier’s
discoveries quite altered the conditions under which the aerostatic art
was to be pursued. It had no sooner become known than it became public
property. The idea was too simple in its grandeur, and was of too easy
a kind not to call up a host of imitators. Of these Blanchard was one
of the first; but this mechanician was anxious to incorporate his own
invention with that of Montgolfier, and he arranged that on the 2nd
of March, 1784, he should make an ascent in what he still called his
“flying vessel,” which he furnished with four wings.
Blanchard and his companion, Pesch, a Benedictine priest, were prevented
from going up in the balloon, as represented in our illustration, which
was drawn before the event it was intended to commemorate. A certain
Dupont de Chambon persisted in accompanying the voyagers. Pushed back by
them, he drew his sword, leaped into the car or boat, wounded Blanchard,
cut the rigging, and broke the oars or wings. The aeronaut was
consequently compelled to have his machine partly re-fitted in great
haste, and in the course of a few hours he made the ascent alone in the
usual way. Blanchard should have known the uselessness of oars, though
he did not abandon their employment in subsequent ascents. The Brothers
Montgolfier had dreamed of the employment of oars as a means of
guidance, but had ultimately rejected the idea. Joseph wrote to his
brother Etienne, about the end of the year 1783:
“For my sake, my good friend, reflect; calculate well before you employ
oars. Oars must either be great or small; if great, they will be heavy;
if small, it will be necessary to move them with great rapidity. I
know no sufficient means of guidance, except in the knowledge of the
different currents of air, of which it is necessary to make a study; and
these are generally regulated by the elevation.” The two brothers often
recurred to this idea.
The pictures of the first ascent of Blanchard from the Champ de Mars on
the 2nd of March, 1784, in the presence of a vast multitude, show us the
oars and the mechanism of his flying-machine fitted to a balloon. The
design which we here give seems to us deserving of being considered only
as one of the caricatures of the time, especially when we look at
the personage dressed in the fool’s head-gear, who sits behind and
accompanies the triumphant ascent of the aeronaut with music.
It was not with this apparatus that Blanchard effected his ascent, for
we have seen that the gearing of his vessel was broken by the infuriated
Dupont de Chambon. Yet the aeronaut pretends to have been, to some
extent, assisted by his mechanical contrivances. The following is his
narrative:--
“I rose to a certain height over Plassy, and perceiving Villette,
which I did not despair of reaching in spite of the misfortune that had
happened to me, I attached a rope of my rigging to my leg, not being
able to make use of my left hand, which I had wrapped in my handkerchief
on account of the sword-wound it had received. I fixed up a piece of
cloth, and thus made a sort of sail with which I hugged the wind. But
the rays of the sun had so heated and rarefied the inflammable air
that soon I forgot my rigging in thinking of the terrible danger that
threatened me.”
Going on to narrate the dangers that beset him, Blanchard describes a
number of most extraordinary experiences, which would be better worthy
of a place here if they were more like the truth. His curious narrative
is thus brought to a close:--
“Escaped from these impetuous and contrary winds, during which I had
felt a great degree of cold, I mounted perpendicularly. The cold became
excessive. Being hungry I ate a morsel of cake. I wished to drink, but
in searching the car nothing was to be seen but the debris of bottles
and glasses, which my assailant had left behind him when we were about
to depart. Afterwards all was so calm that nothing could be seen or
heard. The silence became appalling, and to add to my alarm I began to
lose consciousness. I now wished to take snuff, but found I had left my
box behind me. I changed my seat many times; I went from prow to stern,
but the drowsiness only ceased to assail me when I was struck by two
furious winds, which compressed my balloon to such an extent that its
size became sensibly diminished to the eye. I was not sorry when I began
to descend rapidly upon the river, which at first seemed to me a white
thread, afterwards a ribbon, and then a piece of cloth. As I followed
the course of the river, the fear that I should have to descend into
it, made me agitate the oars very rapidly. I believe that it is to these
movements that I owe my being able to cross the river transversely, and
get above dry land. When I saw myself upon the plain of Billancourt, I
recognised the bridge of Sevres, and the road to Versailles. I was then
about as high as the towers above the plain, and I could hear the words
and the cries of joy of the people who were following me below. At
length I came to a plain about 200 feet in extent. The people then
assisted me and brought my vessel to anchor. Immediately I was
surrounded by gentlemen and foot passengers who had run together from
all parts.”
This voyage lasted one hour and a quarter. The most important incident
of it was that the balloon was very nearly burst by the expansion of the
hydrogen gas. No balloon, as we have already seen, should be entirely
inflated at the beginning of a journey. Blanchard had a narrow escape
from being the victim of his ignorance of physics, and it is a wonder
he was not left to the mercy of fate in a burst balloon, at several
thousand feet above the earth.
Biot, the savant, who had watched the experiment, declared that
Blanchard did not stir himself, and that the variations of his course
are alone to be attributed to the currents of air that he encountered.
As he had inscribed upon his flags, his balloons, and his entrance
tickets, from which he realised a considerable sum, the ambitious
legend, Sic itur ad astra, the following epigram was produced respecting
him:--
From the Field of Mars he took his flight:
In a field close by he tumbled;
But our money having taken
He smiled though sadly shaken,
As Sic itur ad astra he mumbled.
What is most important to examine in each of the great aerial voyages
that have been made, is the special character which distinguishes them
from average experiments. All our great voyages are rendered special
and particular by the ideas of the men who undertook them, and the aims
which they severally meant to achieve by them. The early ascents of
Montgolfier had for their aim the establishment of the fact that any
body lighter than the volume of air which it displaces will rise in the
atmosphere; those of Roziers were undertaken to prove that man can apply
this principle for the purpose of making actual aerial voyages; those
of Robertson, Gay-Lussac, &c., were undertaken for the purpose of
ascertaining certain meteorological phenomena; those of Conte Coutelle
applied aerostation to military uses. A considerable number were made
with the view of organising a system of aerial navigation analogous
to that of the sea-steerage in a certain direction by means of oars or
sails--in a word, to investigate the possibility of sailing through
the air to any point fixed upon. It was with this object that the
experiments at Dijon took place, and these were the most serious
attempts down to our times that have been made to steer balloons.
At the middle of the globe of the balloon were placed four oars, two
sails, and a helm and these were under the management of the voyagers,
who sat in the car and worked them by means of ropes. The car was also
furnished with oars. The report of Guyton de Morveau to the Academy at
Dijon informs us that these different paraphernalia were not altogether
useless. The following extracts are from this report:--
“The very strong wind which arose immediately before our departure, had
driven us down to tee ground many times, making us fear for the safety
of our oars, &c., when we resolved to throw over as much ballast as
would enable us to rise against the wind. The ballast, including from 70
to 80 lbs. of provisions, was thrown over, and then we rose so rapidly
that all the objects around were instantly passed and were very soon
lost to view. The swelling form of our balloon told us that the gas
inside had expanded under the heat of the sun and the lessening density
of the surrounding air. We opened the two valves, but even this outlet
was insufficient, and we had to cut a hole about seven or eight inches
long in the lower part of the balloon, through which the gas might
escape. At five minutes past five we passed above a village which we did
not know, and here we let fall a bag filled with bran, and carrying with
it a flag and a written message to the effect that we were all well, and
that the barometer was recording 20 inches 9 lines, and the thermometer
one degree and a half below zero.”
Very keen cold attacked the ears, but this was the only inconvenience
experienced, until the voyagers were lost in a sea of clouds that shut
them out from the view of the earth. The sun at length began to descend,
and they then perceived, by a slackening in the lower part of the
balloon, that it was time for them to think of returning to the earth.
Judging from the compass that they were not far from the town of
Auxonne, they resolved to use all their endeavours to reach that place.
The sailing appliances had been considerably damaged by the rough
weather at starting. The rigging being disarranged, one of the oars had
got broken, another had become entangled in the rigging, so that there
remained only two of the four oars, and these, being on the same side,
were absolutely useless during the greatest part of the voyage. The
adventurers, however, assert that they made them work from eight to
nine minutes with the greatest ease, making use of them to tack to the
south-east.
“We hoped then to be able to descend near where we judged Auxonne to
be,” the writer continues, “but we lost much gas by the opening in
the balloon, and descended more rapidly than we expected or wished. We
looked to our small stock of ballast with anxiety, but there was no need
of it, and we came very softly down upon a slope.”
When the aeronauts arrived at Magny-les-Auxonne, the inhabitants gazed
upon them in terror, and two men and three women fell down on their
knees before them.
Here is an extract from the report of the experiment of the 12th of
June, the principal object of which was the attempt to discover the
means of steering in a certain direction:--
“M. de Verley and myself mounted in the balloon,” says Guyton
de Morveau, “at seven o’clock. We rose rapidly and in an almost
perpendicular direction. The fall of the mercury in the barometer
was scarcely perceptible when the dilation of the hydrogen gas in the
balloon had become considerable. The globe swelled out, and a light
vapour around the mouth announced to us that the gas was commencing
to escape by the safety-valve. We assisted its escape by pulling the
valve-string.
“Having reduced the dilation sufficiently for our purposes, we resolved
to attempt the working of the balloon before the whole town and to turn
it from the east to the north. We saw with pleasure that our machinery
answered By the working of the helm, the prow of our air-boat was
turned in the direction we desired. The oars, working only on one side,
supported the helm, and altogether we got on as we wished. We described
a curve, crossing the road from Dijon to Langres. The mercury had
descended to 24 inches 8 lines, which announced that we were gradually
rising. We attempted for some time to follow the route to I Langres, but
the wind drove us off our course in spite of all our efforts. At nine
o’clock our barometer informed us that we had ascended to the height of
6,000 feet. M. de Verley took advantage of this elevation to put some
touch wood to a burning-glass 18 lines in diameter, and the touch wood
lighted immediately.”
The aeronauts decided to direct their course for Dijon. After re-setting
the helm with this intention, they worked their oars, and proceeded in
that direction more than 1,000 feet. But heat and fatigue obliged them
to suspend their endeavours, and the current drove them upon Mirebeau,
where, throwing out the last of their ballast and regulating their
descent, they came softly down upon a corn-field.
The adventurers were cordially welcomed by the ecclesiastics and the
magistrates of the place, and after a time they, with their balloon,
were carried back on men’s shoulders to Dijon.