Fig. 8.—Charles’ Passenger Balloon.

This balloon was a truly scientific creation, which advanced aërostation from tottering infancy almost to full prime. The bag was a sphere 27½ feet in diameter made of gores of varnished silk. A net covered the upper half and was fastened to a horizontal hoop girding the middle of the globe, and called the “equator.” From the equator depended ropes which supported, just below the spherical bag, a wicker boat measuring eight feet by four, covered with painted linen and beautifully ornamented. The balloon had at the bottom a silk neck 7 inches in diameter, to admit the gas during inflation, and at the top, a valve which could be opened by means of a cord in the boat to let out gas during a voyage, so as to lower the balloon, or to relieve excessive pressure. In the boat were carried sand ballast to regulate the height of ascension, a barometer to measure the elevation, anchor and rope for landing, a thermometer, notebook, provisions, and all the paraphernalia of a scientific voyage. Barring the fancy boat, this is almost a description of a good modern balloon.

The inflation and ascension occurred in the Garden of the Tuileries, where the limp bag was initially suspended from a rope stretched between two trees. For three days and nights the hydrogen, drawn from twenty barrels containing iron and dilute sulphuric acid, poured upward through the silken neck into the distending globe, which swelled in volume to 1,400 cubic feet. Finally on a beautiful day, the first of December 1783, the Tuileries and all the neighborhood were crowded with spectators. A numerous guard of soldiers, stationed about the apparatus and grounds, preserved order. The fashion and nobility of Paris were there, in ample splendor, attracted by the novelty and importance of the experiment, and the fame of the inventor. Shortly before two o’clock Professor Charles presented to his friend, Montgolfier, a pilot balloon six feet in diameter, saying, “It is your prerogative to blaze the way through the sky.” The pilot balloon was released, showing to everyone the direction of the aërial currents. Charles and Roberts stepped into the boat, seated themselves, and quickly rose into the sky. The multitude gazed in silent wonder. Presently they observed two pennants waving high above them, though the navigators were scarcely visible; whereupon they burst forth into wild enthusiasm and thunderous applause.

Immediately a cavalcade set out in hot pursuit of the venturesome sailors. It was the first chase after an air ship, and a most vigorous one. The balloon drifting northwestward at a speed of fifteen miles an hour, crossed the Seine, passed over several towns and villages, to the great astonishment of the inhabitants, and landed in a field near Nesle. Here it was securely held by friendly peasants, to await the advent of the official witnesses. Presently these arrived, drew up a certificate of descent and signed it. The Duke de Chartres, and the Duke de Fitz-James, who had followed less swiftly, now rode up and signed the formal document, to the great gratification of the aëronauts. The aërial journey had been a most delightful one, lasting about two hours and covering nearly thirty miles.

After receiving the felicitations of his friends, Charles determined to reascend, in order to obtain further scientific observations. Owing to leakage and loss of buoyancy, he must now leave behind his pleasant companion. He had proposed replacing with earth, or stones, a part of Mr. Robert’s weight, but, finding none at hand, he signaled the peasants to let go, whereupon he rose with unusual speed. The remainder of this first and very remarkable scientific voyage is well told by the navigator himself:

“In twenty minutes I was 1,500 fathoms high; out of sight of all terrestrial objects. I had taken the necessary precautions against the explosion of the globe, and prepared to make the observations which I had promised myself. In order to observe the barometer and thermometer, placed at the end of the car, without altering the center of gravity, I knelt down in the middle, stretching forward my body and one leg, holding my watch in my left hand, and my pen and the string of the valve in my right, waiting for the event. The globe, which, at my setting out, was rather flaccid, swelled insensibly. The air escaped in great quantities at the silken tube. I drew the valve from time to time, to give it two vents; and I continued to ascend, still losing air, which issued out hissing, and became visible, like a warm vapor in a cold atmosphere. The reason of this phenomenon is obvious. On earth, the thermometer was 47°, or 15° above freezing point; after ten minutes’ ascent it was only 21°, or 11° below. The inflammable air had not had time to recover the equilibrium of its temperature. Its elastic equilibrium being quicker than that of the heat, there must escape a greater quantity than that which the external dilatation of the air could determine by its least pressure. For myself, though exposed to the open air, I passed in ten minutes from the warmth of spring to the cold of winter; a sharp dry cold, but not too much to be borne. I declare that, in the first moment, I felt nothing disagreeable in the sudden change. When the barometer ceased to fall, I marked exactly 18 inches 10 lines (20-01 in. English), the mercury suffering no sensible oscillation. From this I deduce a height of 1,524 fathoms (3,100 yards), or thereabouts, till I can be more exact in my calculation. In a few minutes more, my fingers were benumbed by the cold, so that I could not hold my pen. I was now stationary as to the rising and falling, and moved only in an horizontal direction. I rose up in the middle of the car to contemplate the scene around me. At my setting out the sun was set on the valleys; he soon rose for me alone, who was the only luminous body in the horizon, and all the rest of nature in shade; he, however, presently disappeared, and I had the pleasure of seeing him set twice in the same day. I beheld, for a few seconds, the circumambient air and the vapors rising from the valleys and rivers. The clouds seemed to rise from the earth and collect one upon the other, still preserving their usual form, only their color was gray and monotonous from the want of light in the atmosphere. The moon alone enlightened them, and showed me that I was tacking about twice; and I observed certain currents that brought me back again. I had several sensible deviations; and observed, with surprise, the effects of the wind, and saw the streamers of my banners point upwards. This phenomenon was not the effect of the ascent or descent, for then I moved horizontally. At that instant I conceived, perhaps a little too hastily, the idea of being able to steer one’s course. In the midst of my transport I felt a violent pain in my right ear and jaw, which I ascribed to the dilatation of the air, in the cellular construction of those organs, as much as to the cold of the external air. I was in a waistcoat and bareheaded. I immediately put on a woolen cap, yet the pain did not go off but as I gradually descended. For seven or eight minutes I had ceased to ascend; the condensation of the internal inflammable air rather made me descend. I now recollected my promise to return in half an hour, and, pulling the string of the valve, I came down. The globe was now so much emptied, that it appeared only a half globe. I perceived a fine ploughed field near the wood of Tour du Lay, and hastened my descent. When I was between twenty or thirty fathoms from the earth I threw out hastily two or three pounds of ballast, and became for a moment stationary, till I descended gently in the field, about a league from the place whence I set out. The frequent deviations and turnings about make me imagine that the voyage was near three leagues, and I was gone about thirty-three minutes. Such is the certainty of the combinations of our aërostatic machine, that I might have kept in the air at least for twenty-four hours longer.”

Further interesting details of the first balloon experiments at Paris are furnished by Dr. Benjamin Franklin, then American Minister to France, in his letters written to Sir Joseph Banks, President of the Royal Society of London, and presented in [Appendix II] of this book. These quaint and substantial stories are well worth perusal as the expressions of a great diplomat and philosopher who, in the midst of social and political activities, found time for scientific correspondence with his friends in both hemispheres.

Aërial navigation was now become a practical art which should advance rapidly in popularity, in both Europe and America. Very soon ascensions were made everywhere, for private amusement and for public exhibitions. Not a few were made for scientific, for military and for topographical purposes; thus giving the art a utilitarian as well as a sporting feature. It will be interesting to note some of the more conspicuous ascensions, voyages and improvements made in passive balloons subsequently to the invention of Montgolfières and Charlières.

The largest hot-air balloon ever constructed, La Flesselle, was launched from the suburbs of the city of Lyons on January 19, 1784, just two months after the ascent of the first human passengers. It was also one of the most troublesome to assemble and keep in repair. Day by day, for more than a week, the balloon was inflated for the purpose of attaching the ropes to support the great gallery. But the wind blew dreadfully at times; rain and snow fell on the machine; frost and ice covered the huge bag; many rents ensued, demanding frequent repairs. On one occasion, when fed too freely with flame from straw sprinkled with alcohol, the monstrous ship rose so vigorously as to drag fifty men with it some distance along the ground. Finally on the 19th of January, when the weather moderated, the operators built small fires under the scaffold below the balloon, and thawed away the ice from the drenched and frozen bag. Then they stocked its gallery with straw and pitchforks, with fire extinguishers, and other provisions for the journey. The inflation beginning about noon, occupied but seventeen minutes. The balloon swelled out rapidly, with the roaring flames ascending inside, and at last stood forth huge and majestic before the admiring multitude—a towering thing of magic growth, 100 feet in diameter by 130 feet high.

The ascension of this gigantic vessel was immensely spectacular; but it was also most adventurous and foolhardy. The great bag, which at best was made of poor materials, was in bad repair after its frequent inflations. But of the six passengers in the gallery not one could be induced to remain behind to lessen the risk to the others. Their pilot, M. de Rozier, remonstrated with them; the proprietor M. C. Flesselle wished them to cast lots; but no one would abandon the journey. So, with fear and reluctance, the pilot ordered the mooring ropes to be cut. Just as the ascent began, a seventh passenger, M. Fontaine, sprang into the gallery and sailed aloft with the others. By vigorous stoking the aërial sailors urged their fiery vessel upward three thousand feet, whence, apparently without fear, they waved their hats to the vast throng below.