A certain Dr. Jeffries offered to accompany Blanchard. On the 7th of January the sky was calm, in consequence of a strong frost during the preceding night, the wind which was very light, being from the north-north-west. The arranged meets were made above the cliffs of Dover. When the balloon rose, there were only three sacks of sand of 10 lbs. each in it. They had not been long above ground when the barometer sank from 29.7 to 27.3. Dr. Jeffries, in a letter addressed to the president of the Royal Society, describes with enthusiasm the spectacle spread out before him: the broad country lying behind Dover, sown with numerous towns and villages, formed a charming view; while the rocks on the other side, against which the waves dashed, offered a prospect that was rather trying.

They had already pa.s.sed one-third of the distance across the Channel when the balloon descended for the second time, and they threw over the last of their ballast; and that not sufficing, they threw over some books, and found themselves rising again. After having got more than half way, they found to their dismay, from the rising of the barometer, that they were again descending, and the remainder of their books were thrown over. At twenty-five minutes past two o'clock they had pa.s.sed three-quarters of their journey, and they perceived ahead the inviting coasts of France. But, in consequence either of the loss or the condensation of the inflammable gas, they found themselves once more descending. They then threw over their provisions, the wings of the car, and other objects. "We were obliged," says Jeffries, "to throw out the only bottle we had, which fell on the water with a loud sound, and sent up spray like smoke."

They were now near the water themselves, and certain death seemed to stare them in the face. It is said that at this critical moment Jeffries offered to throw himself into the sea, in order to save the life of his companion.

"We are lost, both of us," said he; "and if you believe that it will save you to be lightened of my weight, I am willing to sacrifice my life."

This story has certainly the appearance of romance, and belief in it is not positively demanded.

One desperate resource only remained--they could detach the car and hang on themselves to the ropes of the balloon. They were preparing to carry out this idea, when they imagined they felt themselves beginning to ascend again. It was indeed so. The balloon mounted once more; they were only four miles from the coast of France, and their progress through the air was rapid. All fear was now banished. Their exciting situation, and the idea that they were the first who had ever traversed the Channel in such a manner, rendered them careless about the want of certain articles of dress which they had discarded. At three o'clock they pa.s.sed over the sh.o.r.e half-way between Cape Blanc and Calais. Then the balloon, rising rapidly, described a great arc, and they found themselves at a greater elevation than at any part of their course. The wind increased in strength, and changed a little in its direction. Having descended to the tops of the trees of the forest of Guines, Dr. Jeffries seized a branch, and by this means arrested their advance. The valve was then opened, the gas rushed out, and the aeronauts safely reached the ground after the successful accomplishment of this daring and memorable enterprise.

A number of hors.e.m.e.n, who had watched the recent course of the balloon, now rode up, and gave the adventurers the most cordial reception. On the following day a splendid fete was celebrated in their honour at Calais.

Blanchard was presented with the freedom of the city in a box of gold, and the munic.i.p.al body purchased the balloon, with the intention of placing it in one of the churches as a memorial of this experiment, it being also resolved to erect a marble monument on the spot where the famous aeronauts landed.

Some days afterwards Blanchard was summoned before the king, who conferred upon him an annual pension of 1,200 livres. The queen, who was at play at the gambling table, placed a sum for him upon a card, and presented him with the purse which she won.

Chapter VI. Zambeccari's Perilous Trip Across the Adriatic Sea.

There is not in the whole annals of aerostation a more moving catastrophe than that of the unfortunate Comte Zambeccari, who, during an aerial journey on October the 7th, 1804, was cast away on the waves of the Adriatic.

The history of Zambeccari is dramatic throughout. After having been taken by the Turks and thrown into the Bay of Constantinople, from which he with difficulty escaped, he devoted himself to the study and practice of aerial navigation. He fancied he could make use of a lamp supplied with spirits of wine, the flame of which he could direct at will, in the hope of thus being able to steer the balloon in whatever direction he chose. One day his balloon damaged itself against a tree at Boulogne, and the spirits of wine set his clothes on fire. The flames with which the aeronaut was covered only served to increase the ascending power of the balloon, and the frightened spectators, among whom were Zambeccari's young wife and children, saw him carried up into the clouds out of sight. He succeeded, however, in extinguishing the fire which surrounded him.

In 1804, he organised a series of experiments at Milan, for which he received, in advance, the sum of 8,000 crowns; but the experiments failed, in consequence of the inclemency of the weather, the treachery of his a.s.sistants, and the malice of his rivals.

At length, on the 7th of October, after a fall of rain which lasted forty-eight hours, and which had delayed the announced ascent, he resolved, whatever might happen, to carry it out, though all the chances were against him. Eight young men whom he had instructed, and who had promised him their a.s.sistance in filling the balloon, failed him at the critical moment. Still, however, he continued his labours, with the help of two companions, Andreoli and Gra.s.setti. Wearied with his long-continued efforts, dis-appointed and hungry, he took his place in the car.

The two companions whom we have named went with him. They rose gently at first, and hovered over the town of Bologna. Zambeccari says, "The lamp, which was intended to increase our ascending force, became useless. We could not observe the state of the barometer by the feeble light of a lantern. The insupportable cold that prevailed in the high region to which we had ascended, the weariness and hunger arising from my having neglected to take nourishment for twenty-four hours, the vexation that embittered my spirit--all these combined produced in me a total prostration, and I fell upon the floor of the gallery in a profound sleep that was like death. 'The same misfortune overtook my companion Gra.s.setti. Andreoli was the only one who remained awake and able for duty--no doubt because he had taken plenty of food and a large quant.i.ty of rum. Still he suffered from the cold, which was excessive, and his endeavours to wake me were for a long time vain. Finally, however, he succeeded in getting me to my feet, but my ideas were confused, and I demanded of him, like one newly awaking from a dream, 'What is the news?

Where are we? What time is it? How is the wind?'

"It was two o'clock. The compa.s.s had been broken, and was useless; the wax light in the lantern would not burn in such a rarefied atmosphere.

We descended gently across a thick layer of whitish clouds, and when we had got below them, Andreoli heard a sound, m.u.f.fled and almost inaudible, which he immediately recognised as the breaking of waves in the distance. Instantly he announced to me this new and fearful danger.

I listened, and had not long to wait before I was convinced that he was speaking the truth. It was necessary to have light to examine the state of the barometer, and thus ascertain what was our elevation above the sea level, and to take our measures in consequence. Andreoli broke five phosphoric matches, without getting a spark of fire. Nevertheless, we succeeded, after very great difficulty, by the help of the flint and steel, in lighting the lantern. It was now three o'clock in the morning--we had started at midnight. The sound of the waves, tossing with wild uproar, became louder and louder, and I suddenly saw the surface of the sea violently agitated just below us. I immediately seized a large sack of sand, but had not time to throw it over before we were all in the water, gallery and all. In the first moment of fright, we threw into the sea everything that would lighten the balloon--our ballast, all our instruments, a portion of our clothing, our money, and the oars. As, in spite of all this, the balloon did not rise, we threw over our lamp also. After having torn and cut away everything that did not appear to us to be of indispensable necessity, the balloon, thus very much lightened, rose all at once, but with such rapidity and to such a prodigious elevation, that we had difficulty in hearing each other, even when shouting at the top of our voices. I was ill, and vomited severely. Gra.s.setti was bleeding at the nose; we were both breathing short and hard, and felt oppression on the chest. As we were thrown upon our backs at the moment when the balloon took such a sudden start out of the water and bore us with such swiftness to those high regions, the cold seized us suddenly, and we found ourselves covered all at once with a coating of ice. I could not account for the reason why the moon, which was in its last quarter, appeared on a parallel line with us, and looked red as blood.

"After having traversed these regions for half an hour, at an immeasurable elevation, the balloon slowly began to descend, and at last we fell again into the sea, at about four in the morning I cannot determine at what distance we were from land when we fell the second time. The night was very dark, the sea rolling heavily, and we were in no condition to make observations. But it must have been in the middle of the Adriatic that we fell. Although we descended gently, the gallery was sunk, and we were often entirely covered with water. The balloon being now more than half empty, in consequence of the vicissitudes through, which we had pa.s.sed, gave a purchase to the wind, which pressed against it as against a sail, so that by means of it we were dragged and beaten about at the mercy of the storm and the waves. At daybreak we looked out and found ourselves opposite Pesaro, four miles from the sh.o.r.e. We were comforting ourselves with the prospect of a safe landing, when a wind from the land drove us with violence away over the open sea.

It was now full day, but all we could see were the sea, the sky, and the death that threatened us. Certainly some boats happened to come within sight; but no sooner did they see the balloon floating and striping upon the water than they made all sail to get away from it. No hope was then left to us but the very small one of making the coasts of Dalmatia, which were opposite, but at a great distance from us. Without the slightest doubt we should have been drowned if heaven had not mercifully directed towards us a navigator who, better informed than those we had seen before, recognised our machine to be a balloon and quickly sent his long-boat to our rescue. The sailors threw us a stout cable, which we attached to the gallery, and by means of which they rescued us when fainting with exposure. The balloon thus lightened, immediately rose into the air, in spite of all the efforts of the sailors who wished to capture it. The long boat received a severe shock from its escape, as the rope was still attached to it, and the sailors hastened to cut themselves free. At once the balloon mounted with incredible rapidity, and was lost in the clouds, where it disappeared for ever from our view.

It was eight in the morning when we got on board. Gra.s.setti was so ill that he hardly showed any signs of life. His hands were sadly mutilated.

Cold, hunger, and the dreadful anxiety had completely prostrated me. The brave captain of the vessel did everything in his power to restore us.

He conducted us safely to Ferrara, whence we were carried to Pola, where we were received with the greatest kindness, and where I was compelled to have my fingers amputated."

Chapter VII. Garnerin--Parachutes--Aerostation at Public Fetes.

"On the 22nd October, 1797," says the astronomer Lalande, "at twenty-eight minutes past five, Citizen Garnerin rose in a balloon from the park of Monceau. Silence reigned in the a.s.sembly, anxiety and fear being painted on the visages of all. When he had ascended upwards of 2,000 feet, he cut the cord that connected his parachute and car with the balloon. The latter exploded, and Garnerin descended in his parachute very rapidly. He made a dreadful lurch in the air, that forced a sudden cry of fear from the whole mult.i.tude, and made a number of women faint. Meanwhile Citizen Garnerin descended into the plain of Monceau; he mounted his horse upon the spot, and rode back to the park, attended by an immense mult.i.tude, who gave vent to their admiration for the skill and talent of the young aeronaut. Garnerin was the first to undertake this most daring and dangerous venture. He had conceived the idea of this feat while lying a prisoner of state in Buda, Hungary."

Lalande adds that he went and announced his success at the Inst.i.tute National, which was a.s.sembled at the time, and which listened to him with the greatest interest.

Robertson conducted an experiment of descending by means of a parachute at Vienna, in 1804, in which he received all the glory, without partaking of any of the danger. He made the public preparations for an ascent in the balloon, his pupil, Michaud, however, took his place in the car, and made the ascent.

Robertson says that on this occasion he yielded to the entreaties of a young man who was his pupil, and had begged to be allowed to make his debut before such a great mult.i.tude. In this case a slight improvement was made in the parachute. The car was surrounded by a cloth of silk, which, when the aeronaut cut himself away from the balloon, spread itself out in such a way as to form a second parachute.

Robertson made all the preparations, and Michaud had no more to do than place himself in the car. Loud applause arose on all sides. Michaud had ascended 900 feet above the earth when the signal for his cutting himself clear of the balloon was given, by the firing of a cannon. He at once cut the two strings, and the balloon soared away into the upper regions, whilst he was left for one terrible moment to fate. The fall was at first rapid, but the two parachutes soon opened themselves simultaneously, and presented a majestic appearance. In a few seconds the aeronaut had traversed the s.p.a.ce that intervened between him and the a.s.sembly, and found himself safely landed on the ground, at a short distance from the place whence he had set out, while the whole air was rent with shouts of applause. This experiment was deemed a most extraordinary one. Compliments were showered upon Robertson from all sides, and the court presented him with rich presents.

Balloons have always formed a prominent feature at the fetes of Paris, for the celebration of the chief events of the Revolution, the Consulate, and the Empire--the first of these epochs being that in which these aerial vessels were held in highest esteem.

Jacques Garnerin had played a brilliant role as aeronaut under the Directory, the Consulate, and the Empire; and it was he who after the coronation of the Emperor Napoleon I., was charged with the raising of a monster balloon, which was arranged to ascend, with the accompaniment of fireworks, on the evening of the 16th of December, 1804.

An uncommon incident connected with this event serves to show us the spirit of fatalism with which the character of Napoleon I. was infected.

"The Man of Destiny" believed in the destiny of man; he had faith in his star alone; and from the height of his greatness the new ruler, consecrated emperor and king by the Pope, beheld a presage of misfortune in a chance circ.u.mstance, insignificant to all but himself, in the experiment of which we are about to recount the history.

The fete given by the city of Paris to their majesties embraced the whole town, from the Champs Elysees to the Barriere du Trone, on the square of the Hotel de Ville. Upon the river throughout its length between the Isle of St. Louis and the bridge of Notre Dame, an immense display of fireworks was to take place. The scene to be represented was the pa.s.sage of Mont St. Bernard. Garnerin was stationed with his balloon in front of the gate of the church of Notre Dame. At eleven o'clock in the evening, at the moment when the first discharge of fireworks made the air luminous with a hundred thousand stars, Garnerin threw off his immense balloon. The chief feature of it was the device of a crown, designed in coloured lanterns arranged round the globe. It rose splendidly, and with the most perfect success.

On the following morning the inhabitants of Rome were astounded to behold advancing toward them from the horizon a luminous globe, which threatened to descend upon their city. The excitement was intense.

The balloon pa.s.sed the cupola of St. Peter's and the Vatican; then descending, it touched the ground, but rose again, and finally it sank into the wafers of Lake Bracciano.

It was drawn from the water, and the following inscription, emblazoned in letters of gold upon its vast circ.u.mference, was printed, published, and read throughout the whole of Italy--"Paris, 25eme Primaire, an XIII., couronnement de l'empereur Napoleon, 1er par S.S. Pie VII."

In touching the earth, the balloon happened to strike against the tomb of the Emperor Nero, and, owing to the concussion, a portion of the crown was left upon this ancient monument. The Italian journals, which were not so strictly under the supervision of the government as were the journals of France, gave the full particulars of these minor events; and certain of them, connecting the names of Nero and Napoleon, indulged in malicious remarks at the expense of the French emperor. These facts came to the ear of the great general, who manifested much indignation, dismissed the innocent Garnerin from his post, and appointed Madame Blanchard to the supervision of all the balloon ascents which took place at the public fetes.

The balloon was preserved in the vaults of the Vatican in Rome, accompanied with an inscription narrating its travels and wonderful descent--minus the circ.u.mstance of the tomb. It was removed, as might be supposed, in 1814. From this time the ascents of balloons took place for the most part only on the occasions of coronations and other great public fetes.

Chapter VIII. Green's Great Journey Across Europe.

It is probable that at the origin of navigation, man, before he had invented oars and sails, made use of trunks of trees upon which he trusted himself, leaving the rest to the winds and the currents of the water, whether these were known or unknown. There is some a.n.a.logy between such rude rafts, the first discovered means of navigation on water, and balloons, the first discovered means of navigation in air.

But unquestionably the advantage is with the latter. No means have yet been found of directly steering balloons, but by allowing the gas to escape the aeronaut can descend at will, and by lightening his car of part of the ballast he carries he can ascend as readily. It must also be remembered that the currents of air vary in their directions, according to their elevation, and were the aeronaut perfectly acquainted with aerial currents, he might, by raising or lowering himself, find a wind blowing in the direction in which he wished to proceed, and the last problem of aerostation would be solved. That any such knowledge can ever be acquired it is impossible to say; but this much may with safety be advanced, that distant journeys may frequently be taken with balloons for useful purposes.

One of the most remarkable excursions of this kind was that superintended by Green, in 1836, from London to Germany. This journey, 1,200 miles in length, is the longest that has been yet accomplished.

Green set out from London on the 7th of November, 1836, accompanied by two friends--Monk-Mason, the historian of the journey, and a gentleman named Molland. Not knowing to what quarter of the globe he might be blown, Green provided himself with pa.s.sports to all the states of Europe, and with a quant.i.ty of provisions sufficient to last him for some time, should he be driven by the wind over the sea. Shortly after mid-day the balloon rose with great grandeur, and, urged by a light breeze, floated to the south-east, over the plains of Kent. At four o'clock the voyagers sighted the sea.

"It was forty-eight minutes past four," says Monk-Mason, "that we first saw the line of waves breaking on the sh.o.r.es beneath us. It would have been impossible to have remained unmoved by the grandeur of the spectacle that spread out before us. Behind us were the coasts of England, with their white cliffs half lost in the coming darkness.

Beneath us on both sides the ocean spread out far end wide to where the darkness closed in the scene. Opposite us a barrier of thick clouds like a wall, surmounted all along its line with projections like so many towers, bastions, and battlements, rose up from the sea as if to stop our advance. A few minutes afterwards we were in the midst of this cloudy barrier, surrounded with darkness, which the vapours of the night increased. We heard no sound. The noise of the waves breaking on the sh.o.r.es of England had ceased, and our position had for some time cut us off from all the sounds of earth."

In an hour the Straits of Dover were cleared, the lights of Calais shone out toward the voyagers, and the sound of the town drums rose up toward them. "Darkness was now complete," continues the writer, "and it was only by the lights, sometimes isolated, sometimes seen in ma.s.ses, and showing themselves far down on the earth beneath us, that we could form a guess of the countries we traversed, or of the towns and villages which appeared before us every moment. The whole surface of the earth for many leagues round showed nothing but scattered lights, and the face of the earth seemed to rival the vault of heaven with starry fires.

Every moment in the earlier part of the night before men had betaken themselves to repose, cl.u.s.ters of lights appeared indicating large centres of population.

"Those on the horizon gave us the notion of a distant conflagration. In proportion as we approached them, these ma.s.ses of lights appeared to increase, and to cover a greater s.p.a.ce, until, when right over them, they seemed to divide themselves into different parts, to stretch out in long streets, and to shine in starry quadrangles round the squares, so that we could see the exact plan of each city, given as on a small map.

It would be difficult to give an idea of what sort of effect such a scene in such circ.u.mstances produces. To find oneself transported in the darkness of night, in the midst of vast solitudes of air, unknown, unperceived, in secret and in silence, exploring territories, traversing kingdoms, watching towns which come into view, and pa.s.s out of it before one can examine them in detail--these circ.u.mstances are enough in themselves to render sublime a science which, independent of these adjuncts, would be so interesting. If you add to this the uncertainty which, increasing as we went on into the night, began to a.s.sail us respecting our voyage, our ignorance of where we were, and what were the objects we were attempting to discover, you may form some idea of our singular position."

About midnight, the travellers found themselves above Liege. Situated in the midst of a thickly-peopled country, full of foundries, smelting works, and forges, this town was quite a blaze of light. The gas-lamps with which this town is so well lighted, clearly marked out for our travellers the main streets, the squares, and the public buildings. But after midnight, at which time the lamps in continental towns are mostly put out, the whole of the under world disappeared from the view of the aeronauts.

"After the turn of the night," says Mason, "the moon did not show itself, and the heavens, always more sombre when regarded from great alt.i.tudes, seemed to us to intensify the natural darkness. On the other hand, by a singular contrast, the stars shone out with unusual brilliancy, and seemed like living sparks sown upon the ebony vault that surrounded us. In fact, nothing could exceed the intensity of the night which prevailed during this part of our voyage. A black profound abyss surrounded us on all sides, and, as we attempted to penetrate into the mysterious deeps, it was with difficulty we could beat back the idea and the apprehension that we were making a pa.s.sage through an immense ma.s.s of black marble, in which we were enclosed, and which, solid to within a few inches of us, appeared to open up at our approach."

Until three o'clock the voyagers were in this state. The height of the balloon, as calculated by the barometer, was 2,000 feet. They had not then anything to fear from a disastrous encounter, when all at once a sudden explosion was heard, the silk of the balloon quivered, the car received a violent shock, and seemed to be shot suddenly into the gloomy abyss. A second explosion and a third succeeded, accompanied each time by this fearful shock to the car. The travellers soon found out that, owing to the great alt.i.tude, the gas had expanded, and the rope which surrounded it, saturated with water, and frozen with the intense cold, had yielded to the pressure, in jerks which caused the report and the shock.

"From time to time," continues Mason, "vast ma.s.ses of clouds covered the lower regions of the atmosphere, and spread a thick, whitish veil over the earth, intercepting our view, and leaving us for some time uncertain if this was not a continuation of the same plains covered with snow which we had already noticed. From these ma.s.ses of vapour, there seemed more than once during the night to come a sound as of a great fall of water, or the contending waves of the sea; and it required all the force of our reason, joined to our knowledge--such as it was--of the direction of our route, to repress the idea that we were approaching the sea, and that, driven by the wind, we had, been carried along the coasts of the North Sea or the Baltic. As the day advanced these apprehensions disappeared. In place of the unbroken surface of the sea, we gradually made out the varied features of a cultivated country, in the midst of which flowed a majestic river, which lost itself, at both extremities, in the mist that still lay on the horizon."