The pictures of the first ascent of Blanchard from the Champ de Mars on the 2nd of March, 1784, in the presence of a vast multitude, show us the oars and the mechanism of his flying-machine fitted to a balloon. The design which we here give seems to us deserving of being considered only as one of the caricatures of the time, especially when we look at the personage dressed in the fool’s head-gear, who sits behind and accompanies the triumphant ascent of the aeronaut with music.
It was not with this apparatus that Blanchard effected his ascent, for we have seen that the gearing of his vessel was broken by the infuriated Dupont de Chambon. Yet the aeronaut pretends to have been, to some extent, assisted by his mechanical contrivances. The following is his narrative:—
“I rose to a certain height over Plassy, and perceiving Villette, which I did not despair of reaching in spite of the misfortune that had happened to me, I attached a rope of my rigging to my leg, not being able to make use of my left hand, which I had wrapped in my handkerchief on account of the sword-wound it had received. I fixed up a piece of cloth, and thus made a sort of sail with which I hugged the wind. But the rays of the sun had so heated and rarefied the inflammable air that soon I forgot my rigging in thinking of the terrible danger that threatened me.”
Going on to narrate the dangers that beset him, Blanchard describes a number of most extraordinary experiences, which would be better worthy of a place here if they were more like the truth. His curious narrative is thus brought to a close:—
“Escaped from these impetuous and contrary winds, during which I had felt a great degree of cold, I mounted perpendicularly. The cold became excessive. Being hungry I ate a morsel of cake. I wished to drink, but in searching the car nothing was to be seen but the debris of bottles and glasses, which my assailant had left behind him when we were about to depart. Afterwards all was so calm that nothing could be seen or heard. The silence became appalling, and to add to my alarm I began to lose consciousness. I now wished to take snuff, but found I had left my box behind me. I changed my seat many times; I went from prow to stern, but the drowsiness only ceased to assail me when I was struck by two furious winds, which compressed my balloon to such an extent that its size became sensibly diminished to the eye. I was not sorry when I began to descend rapidly upon the river, which at first seemed to me a white thread, afterwards a ribbon, and then a piece of cloth. As I followed the course of the river, the fear that I should have to descend into it, made me agitate the oars very rapidly. I believe that it is to these movements that I owe my being able to cross the river transversely, and get above dry land. When I saw myself upon the plain of Billancourt, I recognised the bridge of Sevres, and the road to Versailles. I was then about as high as the towers above the plain, and I could hear the words and the cries of joy of the people who were following me below. At length I came to a plain about 200 feet in extent. The people then assisted me and brought my vessel to anchor. Immediately I was surrounded by gentlemen and foot passengers who had run together from all parts.”
This voyage lasted one hour and a quarter. The most important incident of it was that the balloon was very nearly burst by the expansion of the hydrogen gas. No balloon, as we have already seen, should be entirely inflated at the beginning of a journey. Blanchard had a narrow escape from being the victim of his ignorance of physics, and it is a wonder he was not left to the mercy of fate in a burst balloon, at several thousand feet above the earth.
Biot, the savant, who had watched the experiment, declared that Blanchard did not stir himself, and that the variations of his course are alone to be attributed to the currents of air that he encountered. As he had inscribed upon his flags, his balloons, and his entrance tickets, from which he realised a considerable sum, the ambitious legend, Sic itur ad astra, the following epigram was produced respecting him:—
From the Field of Mars he took his flight:
In a field close by he tumbled;
But our money having taken
He smiled though sadly shaken,
As Sic itur ad astra he mumbled.
What is most important to examine in each of the great aerial voyages that have been made, is the special character which distinguishes them from average experiments. All our great voyages are rendered special and particular by the ideas of the men who undertook them, and the aims which they severally meant to achieve by them. The early ascents of Montgolfier had for their aim the establishment of the fact that any body lighter than the volume of air which it displaces will rise in the atmosphere; those of Roziers were undertaken to prove that man can apply this principle for the purpose of making actual aerial voyages; those of Robertson, Gay-Lussac, &c., were undertaken for the purpose of ascertaining certain meteorological phenomena; those of Conte Coutelle applied aerostation to military uses. A considerable number were made with the view of organising a system of aerial navigation analogous to that of the sea-steerage in a certain direction by means of oars or sails—in a word, to investigate the possibility of sailing through the air to any point fixed upon. It was with this object that the experiments at Dijon took place, and these were the most serious attempts down to our times that have been made to steer balloons.
At the middle of the globe of the balloon were placed four oars, two sails, and a helm and these were under the management of the voyagers, who sat in the car and worked them by means of ropes. The car was also furnished with oars. The report of Guyton de Morveau to the Academy at Dijon informs us that these different paraphernalia were not altogether useless. The following extracts are from this report:—