THE BALLOON INVENTED
Throughout the entire spring of 1783, all Auvergne, in France, was kept in breathless expectancy by constant rumors that the two Montgolfiers had really solved the problem of aerial flight, and would soon be seen soaring over the country in a strange birdlike machine. Rumor pictured this machine in various forms and sizes, but in point of fact there was really very little secrecy on the part of the inventors themselves, who frankly explained the principle of the balloon they were constructing. It was hardly to be expected, however, that most persons would believe the plain truth that so simple a device as a bag filled with hot air would do what had long been considered impossible.
Spring advanced and lapsed into summer, however, and as no flying-machine made its appearance, public clamor became so loud that the Montgolfiers felt they could postpone their demonstration no longer, although the balloon they were working on was not completed to their entire satisfaction. Nevertheless, they fixed on the definite date of June 5, (1783) as the day and Annonay as the place for making the trial, and their faith in their invention was shown by the fact that special invitations were sent to the leading persons in the vicinity, and a general invitation extended to the world at large.
But in place of some complicated and birdlike machine, as rumor had pictured the flying-machine, the multitude that gathered about the starting-point found only an immense cloth bag about thirty-five feet in diameter, without machinery or wings, and capable of containing some twenty-two thousand cubic feet of air, which the Montgolfier brothers and their assistants were inflating with heated air. As the bag filled, one of the brothers announced with all seriousness, that as soon as it was completely filled it would "rise to the clouds," carrying with it a frame weighing some three hundred pounds.
This announcement was not received with the same seriousness with which it was given. The idea of expecting anyone to believe that an ordinary cloth bag would fly excited the risibilities even of the more serious members of the crowd. Nevertheless, as the great globe filled it became evident to the spectators that it was tugging at the restraining ropes in efforts to rise, in a most extraordinary manner; and when, at a signal from the inventors, the ropes were cast off and the monster shot skyward, the crowd's smiles were turned to expressions of gaping astonishment. Straight into the air the monster mounted, and then, wafted by a gentle breeze, it continued to soar and rise until in ten minutes it had reached an altitude of six thousand feet, sailing easily in a horizontal direction for a short distance, then gradually descending and alighting some eight thousand feet from the starting-point.
The news of this triumph travelled quickly to Paris, and the Parisians clamored to see the wonderful performance repeated in the capital. The king and court were as interested as the savants and the populace, and an order was sent at once by his Majesty, bidding the brothers bring their balloon to the city.
In the meantime, however, a savant named Charles had started the construction of a balloon that was to be filled with hydrogen gas instead of heated air. This was a much more expensive undertaking, as a thousand pounds of iron filings and five hundred pounds of sulphuric acid were necessary to manufacture a sufficient quantity of gas to fill the varnished silk bag. But by the 23rd of August everything was in readiness for the filling process, and the following day this first gas-balloon rose from the Champs de Mars to a distance of three thousand feet and disappeared into the clouds. Three-quarters of an hour later it descended in a field near the little village of Gonesse, to the great consternation of the inhabitants of the neighborhood, who supposed it to be some monster bird, animal, or flying dragon. Arming themselves with scythes and pitchforks, therefore, but keeping at a safe distance, the boldest of the peasants sallied out and surrounded the field in which the creature had alighted. As it made no offensive movement, however, one bold huntsman armed with his trusty fowling-piece, crept cautiously within range and fired, tearing a hole in the monster's side and causing it to writhe and collapse, giving off what appeared to be a foul-smelling, poisonous gas in its death-struggles. When finally it lay flat and still the villagers became emboldened, and rushing upon it cut and tore it to shreds, ending the performance by tying the fragments to a horse's tail and sending the animal scurrying across the fields.
In anticipation of some such demonstration as this, the French Government had sent out a proclamation on the day of the ascent. "Anyone who should see in the sky a globe, resembling the moon in an eclipse," the proclamation ran, "should be aware that far from being an alarming phenomenon, it is only a machine, made of taffeta, or light canvas covered with paper, that cannot possibly cause any harm, and will some day prove serviceable to the wants of society." But apparently none of the villagers of Gonesse had seen this proclamation.
The success of these balloon ascensions sent a wave of enthusiastic interest in aeronautics all over France. The novelty and possibilities of ballooning appealed to the French temperament, just as the possibilities of submarine navigation and automobiling did a century later. As a result, France became at once the centre of ballooning, the whole nation being eagerly absorbed in the subject of navigating the air. In the theatre of action, the Montgolfiers continued to occupy the centre of the stage, and at all times showed themselves worthy of the leading rôle. Pursuant to the order of the king, M. Montgolfier had come to the capital, and on September 19th, before Louis XVI and his queen and the court at Versailles, sent up another hot-air balloon, or "Montgolfier," as this kind of balloon had come to be called.
A novel and important feature of this exhibition, however, was the substitution of living animals for sand-bags or other ballast, as used heretofore. In a wicker cage a cock, a duck, and a sheep were fastened, and these were carried some fifteen hundred feet into the air, descending uninjured, two miles from the starting-point, a few minutes later. The cage was broken open in the descent, but its occupants escaped injury, and the sheep was found quietly grazing when the rescue party arrived.
The successful voyage of these caged animals stimulated the balloonists to attempt the crucial test of sending up a balloon carrying a human passenger. But from this perilous undertaking the boldest spirits recoiled, even the Montgolfiers refusing to venture. In those days, however, there was always a means of securing human beings, willing or otherwise, for any undertaking. Where gold would not tempt, it needed but a word of the monarch to commute the death-sentence of some criminal, placing him at the disposal of the scientists for a better or worse fate than the gallows, as the case might be. And so when Louis XVI heard of the plight of the balloon-makers, he came to their assistance with the offer of two condemned prisoners to be sent on the first aerial voyage. This offer had an unexpected effect. The pride of a certain high-minded aeronaut named Rozier, who had hitherto refused to risk his life, was touched at the thought of criminals performing an act that all honest men refused. "What! are vile criminals to have the glory of being the first to ascend into the air?" he exclaimed. "No, no, that must not be." And forthwith he offered his own services for the hazardous undertaking.
The royal decree was accordingly repealed, to the chagrin of the criminals, no doubt, and preparations made for the momentous attempt. Montgolfier was engaged to construct a large balloon, and on the 15th of October, 1783, the trial was made in a garden in the Faubourg St. Antoine. Let no one suppose, however, that this first man-carrying balloon was cut loose from the earth and sent skyward to shift for itself, as might be gathered from the reluctance of persons to make the ascent. On the contrary, the balloon was held by strong cables, and allowed to rise only to a height of eighty feet—to the level of some of the lower windows of a modern sky-scraper—the aeronaut keeping it afloat for about five minutes by burning wool and straw in a grate made for the purpose.
Those who have witnessed the reckless manner in which the modern balloonist mounts thousands of feet into the air, seated on a trapeze or clinging to flying rings attached to an old balloon, patched and frequently rotten, may be inclined to sneer at the brave Rozier. But it should be remembered that in 1783 people had not learned nineteenth-century contempt for altitude. Furthermore, no one could tell what might be the effect upon the human system of ascending to a great height when away from a building or other terrestrial object. Fainting, hemorrhages, heart-failure, and death had been predicted, and could not be practically refuted. In short, it was an absolutely new and untried field; and it required far greater courage on the part of Rozier to mount eighty feet in a captive balloon than for a modern aeronaut to sail thousands of feet skyward. In proof of this is Rozier's subsequent record of ascents in free balloons, and dangerous voyages, in the last of which he lost his life.
To France, therefore, belongs the honor of inventing the balloon and being first to test it with a human passenger. On this last point, however, France only eclipsed America by a few days. For while the craze for balloon-making was at its height in France during the summer of 1783, a somewhat similar craze on a small scale had started in some of the American cities. Two members of the Philosophical Academy of Philadelphia, Rittenhouse and Hopkins, constructed a peculiar balloon having forty-seven small bags inflated with hydrogen attached to a car. On November 28th, six weeks after Rozier's ascent, this balloon was sent up, with James Wilcox, a carpenter of Philadelphia, as passenger. Everything was going well with the voyager until he suddenly discovered that the wind was wafting him toward the Schuylkill River, which so alarmed him that in attempting to descend quickly he punctured the bags so freely that he came to the ground with considerable force, escaping, however, with a dislocated wrist.
Meanwhile, in Europe, a new danger to balloonists had arisen. Fanaticism was rife, particularly in the vicinity of Paris, and many members of the cloth were tireless in denouncing this "tampering with God's laws by invading the inviolability of the firmament." Fortunately, the king took a broader view, and his soldiers were supplied freely for protecting balloonists and their property; but even with this protection both were roughly handled at times.
By this time England had become aroused; balloon-making became popular across the Channel, and some new records for time and distance were soon made. One balloon sent up in London landed in Sussex, forty-eight miles away, making the voyage in two hours and a half. A few days later a small balloon sent up in Kent was blown across the Channel and landed in Flanders. But neither of these balloons carried passengers.
As yet there had been few serious attempts at constructing dirigible balloons, but now Jean-Pierre Blanchard opened a new era of experiments by combining an ordinary balloon for obtaining the lifting power with wings and rudder. In this balloon there was also placed an umbrella-shaped sail interposed horizontally between the car and the body of the balloon, which was to act as a sort of parachute in case of accident. On the first voyage in this balloon Blanchard was to have had for companion a Benedictine monk; but as the machine began to rise from the ground the monk was seized with fear, turned deadly pale, crossed himself, and seemed about to collapse. Fortunately at this moment a leak was discovered in the balloon and it was accordingly lowered for repairs. When these were completed the aeronaut decided to dispense with the company of the monk, who was only too willing to gratify his wish. But just as the car was again ready to start, a stripling student from the Military Academy forced his way through the crowd, jumped into the car, and announced his intention of making the ascent. Being ordered from the car by Blanchard, he declared that he had the king's license, and when asked to produce it he drew his sword, declaring that this was the license he referred to. By this time the crowd had lost patience; some one seized the young man unceremoniously by the collar, hauled him from the car, and turned him over to the police.
A few years later particular attention was called to this incident by a rumor, which finally grew into a fixed belief in France, that the young military student in question was none other than the youthful Napoleon Bonaparte, then a student at the Academy. Throughout the entire reign of the emperor this was the general belief, and if it was denied at all by Napoleon, the denial was not made with due emphasis. At St. Helena, however, the captive emperor finally stated definitely that he was not the hero of this escapade, who is now known to have been a student by the name of Chambon.
Nothing of importance came of Blanchard's first attempt at guiding a balloon with rudder and wings, except perhaps to emphasize the fact that wings of an oarlike type were useless for propulsion; but nevertheless Blanchard soon prepared a somewhat similar balloon in which he proposed to steer himself across the English Channel. Before this time, as will be remembered, several balloons had crossed the Channel, but none of them had carried passengers. On this voyage Blanchard proposed to make the attempt, taking with him as companion an American physician named Jeffries. On January 7, 1785, these two embarked from the cliffs of Dover, a strong wind at the time setting toward the French coast. Before their journey was half completed they discovered that an insufficient amount of ballast had been shipped, and that the balloon was gradually descending at a rate which would land them in the Channel several miles from shore. To avert this calamity they were obliged to throw out everything in the car—books, provisions, anchors, ropes, the "wings" that were intended for guiding, and also most of their garments. They were, indeed, about to cut loose the car itself, and climb into the shrouds, when suddenly the balloon, caught by a fresh current of air, began to rise, and was wafted to a safe landing place. This was the most daring exploit as yet performed by the aeronauts.
Although at least fifty different persons had made more or less extended aerial voyages during the two years that had intervened since the invention of the first balloon, no one of them had been seriously injured. Indeed, this apparently most dangerous undertaking had been relegated to the grade of commonplace in popular opinion, owing to these fortunate results. But the world was soon to learn that its first estimates of the dangers of ballooning had not been exaggerated.
Since the invention of the Montgolfier balloon two distinct schools of balloonists had arisen, one of which favored the hot-air, and the other the hydrogen balloon. By the advocates of the hot-air balloon it was claimed that the relatively small expense, and the fact that the balloonist could descend at any time and renew his supply of fuel, made this the most desirable type, at least for long-distance voyages. By the advocates of the hydrogen balloon it was shown that the hot-air balloon must be constructed much larger to obtain the same amount of lifting power, could be maintained in the air for a comparatively short time at most, and was in constant danger from the fire that must be kept burning in the grate. In reply to this last charge the hot-air advocates pointed out that a tiny spark of electricity, which would not affect the hot-air balloon, might explode the hydrogen balloon, thus introducing an element of danger quite as great as that of the fire in the hot-air balloons.
As an outcome of these disputes, Pilatre de Rozier, the first man ever to make an ascent, proposed to attempt to cross the Channel in a new-type balloon, a combination of hot-air and hydrogen machine, which was supposed to represent the good qualities of both types. Several months were consumed in constructing it, and when finally completed he and a companion attempted to cross the Channel, as had been done by Blanchard and Jeffries a short time previously. All went well at first and the balloon was several miles on its journey when suddenly the wind changed, the balloon was blown back over the heads of the anxious watchers below, and when a short distance inland, suddenly burst into flames. At first it descended with an oscillating movement, and then, freed from the restraining silk and canvas, it shot downward, striking the earth with terrible force, the two occupants being killed. Thus the man to make the first ascent in a balloon was also the first to lose his life. Rozier himself seems to have expected some such ending to his voyages, and just before making his last ascent he remarked to a friend that, whatever the outcome, "one had lived long enough when one had added something to humanity."
The fate of Rozier and his companion being known, and the awful dangers of balloon ascensions thus forcibly brought home, there was a popular outcry against such attempts and efforts were made to pass laws forbidding them. But no such demand or suggestion came from the balloonists themselves. They could point to the fact that, while as yet the balloon had been of no importance commercially, it had at least been turned to some account in the field of science, which was simply a stepping-stone to commercial advancement. It had been the means of settling forever the question of temperature and rarefaction at different altitudes, besides numerous less important although no less interesting subjects.
While it was true that many of the experiments of the aeronauts had added largely to human knowledge, some of them were both dangerous and foolhardy. An exhibition of this kind of folly was given by the Frenchman, Testu-Bressy, who, wishing to test his theory that large animals would bleed from the nose at a much lower elevation than man, despite the thicker consistency of their blood, made an ascent mounted on the back of a horse. On this occasion the aeronaut did not, even take the simple precaution of tying the horse's feet to the car; and what seems most remarkable, the animal made the journey without moving or showing any sign of fear.
AN INTERNATIONAL BALLOON RACE.
This view was taken before the start of an international balloon race near Berlin. The balloons are of the ordinary non-dirigible type.
The time was at hand, however, when Montgolfier, who had always maintained that the true usefulness of the balloon would be in warfare, was given the opportunity of seeing his contention verified. On the breaking out of the French Revolution, balloon corps were at once pressed into the service of the army. Napoleon Bonaparte carried with him some balloons on his Egyptian campaign, partly for the purpose of making observations, and partly to impress the Arabs with the superiority of Christian armies. A school of aeronautics was established at Meudon, and some fifty young men, sworn to secrecy, assigned to it. Balloons were constructed, tested, and distributed among the different divisions of the army, and one of these was used for reconnoitering the position of the Austrian forces just before the battle of Fleurus. In the course of the day two ascents were made in this balloon, which was held captive by several thousand feet of cable. The second ascent drew the fire of the enemy's cannon, but the range was too great and no harm was done. Meanwhile the French general, Jourdain, was furnished most valuable information by these aerial voyages.
The Revolutionary wars were also responsible, indirectly, for the invention of the parachute. It will be recalled that even as early as the fifteenth century, Leonardo da Vinci had conceived the idea of a kind of parachute; and that Blanchard had a spread-canvas arrangement to produce a similar effect attached to some of his balloons. It was not until 1799, however, that the folding umbrella-like parachute was invented, the inventor, Garnerin, having developed the idea in trying to devise some means of escape from the fortress of Buda, Hungary, where he was being kept prisoner after one of the battles in the North between the Revolutionary forces and the Austrians and Prussians. Although he did not actually effect his escape in this dramatic manner, he finally proved that he had not dreamed in vain during his imprisonment by demonstrating the entire practicality of the parachute.
Garnerin's first practical test of his invention was made in October, 1797, when he ascended to the height of six thousand feet in a balloon to which was attached a parachute of the ordinary umbrella type still used. At that altitude he cut loose the balloon which rushed upward until it exploded, while the parachute, dropping rapidly at first, finally settled slowly and gently to the earth, without injury to the inventor.