Wonderfull Balloon Ascents
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Fulgence Marion >> Wonderfull Balloon Ascents
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A number of horsemen, 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 municipal 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 assistants, 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 assistance in
filling the balloon, failed him at the critical moment. Still,
however, he continued his labours, with the help of two
companions, Andreoli and Grassetti. 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 Grassetti. Andreoli was the only one who
remained awake and able for duty--no doubt because he had taken
plenty of food and a large quantity 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 compass 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, muffled 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.
Grassetti 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 passed, 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 shore. 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. Grassetti 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
assembly, 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 multitude, 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 multitude, 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 Institute National,
which was assembled 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 multitude. 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 space that intervened between him and the
assembly, 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 circumstance,
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 passage 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 passed 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 circumference, 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 circumstance 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 analogy 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 passports to all the states of Europe, and with a quantity
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 shores 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 shores 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 masses, 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, clusters 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 masses
of lights appeared to increase, and to cover a greater space,
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 circumstances 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 pass out of it before one can examine them in
detail--these circumstances 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 assail 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 altitudes, 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 passage through an immense
mass 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
altitude, 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 masses 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 masses 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."
This river was the Rhine, and as the neighbourhood seemed
suitable for a descent, and as the travellers did not wish to be
carried too far into the heart of Europe, they allowed a portion
of the gas to escape, came gradually down, and dropped their
anchor.
It was then half-past seven in the morning. It was only then
that the inhabitants, who had hitherto held themselves aloof,
watching the movements of the strangers from under the brushwood,
began to assemble from all sides. A few words in German spoken
from the balloon dissipated their fears, and, recovering from
their mistrust, they hastened immediately to lend assistance to
the aeronauts The latter were now informed that the place they
had selected for their descent was in the Duchy of Nassau. The
town of Wiberg, where Blanchard had descended, after his ascent
at Frankfort in 1785 was, by a singular chance, only two leagues
distant. The three aeronauts received a most flattering
reception, and, in memory of the event, they placed the flag
which they had borne in their car during their adventurous
excursion in the ducal palace, side by side with that of
Blanchard.
"Thus," says Mason, "terminated an expedition which, whether we
regard the extent of the journey, the length of time occupied in
it, or the results which were the objects of the experiment, may
justly be considered as one of the most interesting and most
important ever undertaken. The best answer which one could give
to those who would be disposed to criticise the employment of the
peculiar means which we made use of, or to doubt their
efficiency, would be to state that, after having traversed
without hindrance, without either danger or difficulty, so large
a portion of the European continent, we arrived at our
destination still in possession of as much force as, had we
wished it, might have carried us round the whole world."
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