Illustration: Frontispiece. PROJECTILE TRAINS FOR THE MOON.
FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON, DIRECT IN NINETY-SEVEN HOURS
AND TWENTY MINUTES: AND A TRIP ROUND IT:
by
JULES VERNE,
Author of "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth."
Translated from the French by
Louis Mercier, M.A., (Oxon,) and Eleanor E. King.
With Eighty Full Page Illustrations.
New York:
Scribner, Armstrong & Company.
1874.
* * * * * *
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._
------------------
A Journey to the Centre of the Earth.
With 53 Illustrations. One Vol. 12mo, $2.00.
* * * * * *
CONTENTS
FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON.
ROUND THE MOON.
CHAPTER I.
THE GUN CLUB
CHAPTER II.
PRESIDENT BARBICANE'S COMMUNICATION
CHAPTER III.
EFFECT OF THE PRESIDENT'S COMMUNICATION
CHAPTER IV.
REPLY FROM THE OBSERVATORY OF CAMBRIDGE
CHAPTER V.
THE ROMANCE OF THE MOON
CHAPTER VI.
THE PERMISSIVE LIMITS OF IGNORANCE AND BELIEF IN THE UNITED STATES
CHAPTER VII.
THE HYMN OF THE CANNON-BALL
CHAPTER VIII.
HISTORY OF THE CANNON
CHAPTER IX.
THE QUESTION OF THE POWDERS
CHAPTER X.
ONE ENEMY _v._ TWENTY-FIVE MILLIONS OF FRIENDS
CHAPTER XI.
FLORIDA AND TEXAS
CHAPTER XII.
URBI ET ORBI
CHAPTER XIII.
STONES HILL
CHAPTER XIV.
PICKAXE AND TROWEL
CHAPTER XV.
THE FÊTE OF THE CASTING
CHAPTER XVI.
THE COLUMBIAD
CHAPTER XVII.
A TELEGRAPHIC DESPATCH
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PASSENGER OF THE "ATLANTA"
CHAPTER XIX.
A MONSTER MEETING
CHAPTER XX.
ATTACK AND RIPOSTE
CHAPTER XXI.
HOW A FRENCHMAN MANAGES AN AFFAIR
CHAPTER XXII.
THE NEW CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE PROJECTILE-VEHICLE
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE TELESCOPE OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS
CHAPTER XXV.
FINAL DETAILS
CHAPTER XXVI.
FIRE!
CHAPTER XXVII.
FOUL WEATHER
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A NEW STAR
ROUND THE MOON
PRELIMINARY CHAPTER
RECAPITULATORY
CHAPTER I.
FROM TWENTY MINUTES PAST TEN TO FORTY-SEVEN MINUTES PAST TEN P.M.
CHAPTER II.
THE FIRST HALF-HOUR
CHAPTER III.
THEIR PLACE OF SHELTER
CHAPTER IV.
A LITTLE ALGEBRA
CHAPTER V.
THE COLD OF SPACE
CHAPTER VI.
QUESTION AND ANSWER
CHAPTER VII.
A MOMENT OF INTOXICATION
CHAPTER VIII.
AT SEVENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN LEAGUES
CHAPTER IX.
THE CONSEQUENCES OF A DEVIATION
CHAPTER X.
THE OBSERVERS OF THE MOON
CHAPTER XI.
FANCY AND REALITY
CHAPTER XII.
OROGRAPHIC DETAILS
CHAPTER XIII.
LUNAR LANDSCAPES
CHAPTER XIV.
THE NIGHT OF THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOUR HOURS AND A HALF
CHAPTER XV.
HYPERBOLA OR PARABOLA
CHAPTER XVI.
THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE
CHAPTER XVII.
TYCHO
CHAPTER XVIII.
GRAVE QUESTIONS
CHAPTER XIX.
A STRUGGLE AGAINST THE IMPOSSIBLE
CHAPTER XX.
THE SOUNDINGS OF THE "SUSQUEHANNA"
CHAPTER XXI.
J. T. MASTON RECALLED
CHAPTER XXII.
RECOVERED FROM THE SEA
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE END
———
FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON.
———
ROUND THE MOON.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
The Artillery-men of the Gun Club
President Barbicane
Meeting of the Gun Club
The Torchlight Procession
Cambridge Observatory
The Moon's Disc
Barbicane holds forth
The Rodman Columbiad
Cannon at Malta in the time of the Knights
Ideal Sketch of J. T. Maston's Gun
The invention of Gunpowder by the Monk Schwartz
Captain Nicholl
Nicholl published a number of Letters in the Newspapers
It became necessary to keep an eye upon the Deputies
The Subscription was opened
The Manufactory at Coldspring, near New York
Tampa Town, previous to the undertaking
They were compelled to ford several Rivers
The Work progressed regularly
The Casting
Tampa Town, after the undertaking
The Banquet in the Columbiad
President Barbicane at his Window
Michel Ardan
The Meeting
Projectile Trains for the Moon
Attack and Riposte
The Platform was suddenly carried away
Maston burst into the Room
In the midst of this Snare was a poor little Bird
"Go with me, and see whether we are stopped on our journey"
The Cat taken out of the Shell
The Arrival of the Projectile at Stones Hill
J. T. Maston had grown fat
The Telescope of the Rocky Mountains
The Interior of the Projectile
An innumerable Multitude covered the Prairie round Stones Hill
Fire!!
Effect of the Explosion
The Director at his Post
The Gas caught fire
Diana and Satellite
The courageous Frenchman
They raised Barbicane
It was an enormous Disc
They gave her a pie
The Sun chose to be of the party
Ardan plunged his hand rapidly into certain mysterious boxes
"Do I understand it?" cried Ardan; "my head is splitting with it".
Satellite was thrown out
It was the Body of Satellite
"I could have ventured out on the top of the Projectile"
They struck up a frantic dance
"The Oxygen!" he exclaimed
"Ah! if Raphael had seen us thus"
The Telescope at Parsonstown
How many people have heard speak of the Moon!
"This plain would then be nothing but an immense Cemetery"
"What Giant Oxen!"
He could distinguish nothing but Desert Beds
"It is the fault of the Moon"
Nothing could equal the splendour of this starry world
"The vapour of our breath will fall in snow around us"
A Discussion arose
A Prey to frightful Terror
What a sight!
"The Sun!"
"Light and Heat; all Life is contained in them"
He distinguished all this
Can you picture to yourselves
A violent Contraction of the Lunar Crust
Around the Projectile were the Objects which had been thrown out
"These practical people have sometimes most inopportune ideas"
Ardan applied the lighted Match
"I fancy I see them"
A few feet nearer
The unfortunate man had disappeared
The Descent began
"White all, Barbicane"
The Apotheosis was worthy of the three Heroes
FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON.
———
CHAPTER I.
THE GUN CLUB.
During the War of the Rebellion, a new and influential club was
established in the city of Baltimore in the State of Maryland. It is well
known with what energy the taste for military matters became developed
amongst that nation of ship-owners, shopkeepers, and mechanics. Simple
tradesmen jumped their counters to become extemporized captains, colonels,
and generals, without having ever passed the School of Instruction at
West Point: nevertheless, they quickly rivalled their compeers of the
old continent, and, like them, carried off victories by dint of lavish
expenditure in ammunition, money, and men.
But the point in which the Americans singularly distanced the Europeans
was in the science of _gunnery._ Not, indeed, that their weapons retained
a higher degree of perfection than theirs, but that they exhibited
unheard-of dimensions, and consequently attained hitherto unheard-of
ranges. In point of grazing, plunging, oblique, or enfilading, or
point-blank firing, the English, French, and Prussians have nothing to
learn; but their cannon, howitzers, and mortars are mere pocket-pistols
compared with the formidable engines of the American artillery.
This fact need surprise no one. The Yankees, the first mechanicians in
the world, are engineers—just as the Italians are musicians and the
Germans metaphysicians—by right of birth. Nothing is more natural,
therefore, than to perceive them applying their audacious ingenuity to
the science of gunnery. Witness the marvels of Parrott, Dahlgren, and
Rodman. The Armstrong, Palliser, and Beaulieu guns were compelled to bow
before their transatlantic rivals.
Now when an American has an idea, he directly seeks a second American to
share it. If there be three, they elect a president and two secretaries.
Given _four,_ they name a keeper of records, and the office is ready
for work; _five,_ they convene a general meeting, and the club is fully
constituted. So things were managed in Baltimore. The inventor of a new
cannon associated himself with the caster and the borer. Thus was formed
the nucleus of the "Gun Club." In a single month after its formation it
numbered 1833 effective members and 30,565 corresponding members.
One condition was imposed as a _sine qua non_ upon every candidate for
admission into the association, and that was the condition of having
designed, or (more or less) perfected a cannon; or, in default of a
cannon, at least a firearm of some description. It may, however, be
mentioned that mere inventions of revolvers, five-shooting carbines,
and similar small arms, met with but little consideration. Artillerists
always commanded the chief place of favour.
The estimation in which these gentlemen were held, according to one
of the most scientific exponents of the Gun Club, was "proportional to
the masses of their guns, and in the direct ratio of the square of the
distances attained by their projectiles."
The Gun Club once founded, it is easy to conceive the result of the
inventive genius of the Americans. Their military weapons attained colossal
proportions, and their projectiles, exceeding the prescribed limits,
unfortunately occasionally cut in two some unoffending pedestrians.
These inventions, in fact, left far in the rear the timid instruments of
European artillery.
It is but fair to add that these Yankees, brave as they have ever proved
themselves to be, did not confine themselves to theories and formulæ,
but that they paid heavily, in _propriâ personâ,_ for their inventions.
Amongst them were to be counted officers of all ranks, from lieutenants
to generals; military men of every age, from those who were just making
their _début_ in the profession of arms up to those who had grown old on
the gun-carriage. Many had found their rest on the field of battle whose
names figured in the "Book of Honour" of the Gun Club; and of those who
made good their return the greater proportion bore the marks of their
indisputable valour. Crutches, wooden legs, artificial arms, steel hooks,
caoutchouc jaws, silver craniums, platinum noses, were all to be found in
the collection; and it was calculated by the great statistician Pitcairn
that throughout the Gun Club there was not quite one arm between four
persons and exactly two legs between six.
Nevertheless, these valiant artillerists took no particular account of
these little facts, and felt justly proud when the despatches of a battle
returned the number of victims at tenfold the quantity of the projectiles
expended.
One day, however—sad and melancholy day!—peace was signed between
the survivors of the war; the thunder of the guns gradually ceased,
the mortars were silent, the howitzers were muzzled for an indefinite
period, the cannon, with muzzles depressed, were returned into the
arsenal, the shot were repiled, all bloody reminiscences were effaced;
the cotton-plants grew luxuriantly in the well-manured fields, all
mourning garments were laid aside, together with grief; and the Gun Club
was relegated to profound inactivity.
Some few of the more advanced and inveterate theorists set themselves
again to work upon calculations regarding the laws of projectiles. They
reverted invariably to gigantic shells and howitzers of unparalleled
calibre. Still, in default of practical experience what was the value
of mere theories? Consequently, the club-rooms became deserted, the
servants dozed in the antechambers, the newspapers grew mouldy on the
tables, sounds of snoring came from dark corners, and the members of the
Gun Club, erstwhile so noisy in their seances, were reduced to silence
by this disastrous peace and gave themselves up wholly to dreams of a
Platonic kind of artillery.
"This is horrible!" said Tom Hunter one evening, while rapidly carbonizing
his wooden legs in the fireplace of the smoking-room; "nothing to do!
nothing to look forward to! what a loathsome existence! When again shall
the guns arouse us in the morning with their delightful reports?"
"Those days are gone by," said jolly Bilsby, trying to extend his missing
arms. "It was delightful once upon a time! One invented a gun, and hardly
was it cast, when one hastened to try it in the face of the enemy! Then
one returned to camp with a word of encouragement from Sherman or a
friendly shake of the hand from M'Clellan. But now the generals are gone
back to their counters; and in place of projectiles, they despatch bales
of cotton. By Jove, the future of gunnery in America is lost!"
"Ay! and no war in prospect!" continued the famous James T. Maston,
scratching with his steel hook his gutta-percha cranium. "Not a cloud in
the horizon! and that too at such a critical period in the progress of
the science of artillery! Yes, gentlemen! I who address you have myself
this very morning perfected a model (plan, section, elevation, &c.) of
a mortar destined to change all the conditions of warfare!"
"No! is it possible?" replied Tom Hunter, his thoughts reverting
involuntarily to a former invention of the Hon. J. T. Maston, by which,
at its first trial, he had succeeded in killing three hundred and
thirty-seven people.
Illustration: THE ARTILLERY MEN OF THE GUN CLUB.
"Fact!" replied he. "Still, what is the use of so many studies worked
out, so many difficulties vanquished? It's mere waste of time! The New
World seems to have made up its mind to live in peace; and our bellicose
_Tribune_ predicts some approaching catastrophes arising out of this
scandalous increase of population."
"Nevertheless," replied Colonel Blomsberry, "they are always struggling
in Europe to maintain the principle of nationalities."
"Well?"
"Well, there might be some field for enterprise down there; and if they
would accept our services—"
"What are you dreaming of?" screamed Bilsby; "work at gunnery for the
benefit of foreigners?"
"That would be better than doing nothing here," returned the colonel.
"Quite so," said J. T. Maston; "but still we need not dream of that
expedient."
"And why not?" demanded the colonel.
"Because their ideas of progress in the Old World are contrary to our
American habits of thought. Those fellows believe that one can't become
a general without having served first as an ensign; which is as much as
to say that one can't point a gun without having first cast it oneself!"
"Ridiculous!" replied Tom Hunter, whittling with his bowie-knife the arms
of his easy-chair; "but if that be the case there, all that is left for
us is to plant tobacco and distil whale-oil."
"What!" roared J. T. Maston, "shall we not employ these remaining
years of our life in perfecting fire-arms? Shall there never be a fresh
opportunity of trying the ranges of projectiles? Shall the air never again
be lighted with the glare of our guns? No international difficulty ever
arise to enable us to declare war against some transatlantic power? Shall
not the French sink one of our steamers, or the English, in defiance of
the rights of nations, hang a few of our countrymen?"
"No such luck," replied Colonel Blomsberry; "nothing of the kind is likely
to happen; and even if it did, we should not profit by it. American
susceptibility is fast declining, and we are all going to the dogs."
"It is too true," replied J. T. Maston, with fresh violence; "there are
a thousand grounds for fighting, and yet we don't fight. We save up our
arms and legs for the benefit of nations who don't know what to do with
them! But stop—without going out of one's way to find a cause for
war—did not North America once belong to the English?"
"Undoubtedly," replied Tom Hunter, stamping his crutch with fury.
"Well then," replied J. T. Maston, "why should not England in her turn
belong to the Americans?"
"It would be but just and fair," returned Colonel Blomsberry.
"Go and propose it to the President of the United States," cried J. T.
Maston, "and see how he will receive you."
"Bah!" growled Bilsby between the four teeth which the war had left him;
"that will never do!"
"By Jove!" cried J. T. Maston, "he mustn't count on my vote at the next
election!"
"Nor on ours," replied unanimously all the bellicose invalids.
"Meanwhile," replied J. T. M., "allow me to say that, if I cannot get an
opportunity to try my new mortars on a real field of battle, I shall say
good-bye to the members of the Gun Club, and go and bury myself in the
prairies of Arkansas!"
"In that case we will accompany you," cried the others.
Matters were in this unfortunate condition, and the club was threatened
with approaching dissolution, when an unexpected circumstance occurred
to prevent so deplorable a catastrophe.
On the morrow after this conversation every member of the association
received a sealed circular couched in the following terms:—
"BALTIMORE, _Oct._ 3.
"The President of the Gun Club has the honour to inform his colleagues
that, at the meeting of the 5th instant, he will bring before them
a communication of an extremely interesting nature. He requests,
therefore, that they will make it convenient to attend in accordance
with the present invitation.—Very cordially,
Impey Barbicane, P.G.C."