Up in the Clouds: Balloon Voyages. Robert Michael Ballantyne
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 Château 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 Château, 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!
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