This hasty note was addressed to M. Stephen Montgolfier at Annonay, near Lyons, and never was a request made that was more likely to be carefully and promptly granted. Stephen Montgolfier, like his brother, had busy thoughts concerning means for rising in the air, and when Joseph returned from Avignon, they set to work with stronger hope of realising their dreams. As they were the largest and best paper-makers in Annonay, they did not lack material for carrying on experiments, and when these experiments had repeatedly resulted in success, they decided that the rest of the world should be admitted into their secret. A large balloon, made of paper and taffeta, should be inflated in the public square, and be allowed to rise before the eyes of any who might gather there to see it. And they carried out this determination on June 5th, 1783. On that day there assembled at Annonay a number of local celebrities, and no better opportunity could have been chosen.
In the public square a large circular space was railed off to keep the crowd at a proper distance, and in the centre of this space rose a wooden platform to accommodate the new cloud-ship and the fire which was to fill it with the power of flight. Never had the brothers Montgolfier had a busier morning; never had the good people of Annonay seen such excitement in their quiet village. The crowd had gathered from far and near, and watched the busy workers round the mysterious platform with widely different thoughts. Some were silent with expectation, some jeered noisily; but, unconscious of praise or laughter, the two brothers directed their little band of workmen, confident of coming triumph.
At last the specially invited guests had all arrived, and when they were accommodated with seats, one of the brothers made a little speech of explanation, ending with the remark that he would apply a torch to the heap of chopped straw and wool beneath the platform. The smoke arising from these different kinds of fuel formed, when combined, he said, the most suitable gas for raising a substance into the air. These diligent brothers, however, had only partly learned the truth as yet, or they would have known that it was the heat, and not the smoke, which lifted the paper bag.
The torch was put to the straw, the yellow flames leapt up, and the smoke, passing through a hole in the platform, entered the open end of the globe-shaped bag, which up to the present had, of course, been lying flat and empty. Instantly a paper dome seemed to rise from the platform. This continued to grow in size, while the workmen stood round in a ring, each holding a rope which passed to the top of the dome. The ropes grew longer and longer as the balloon filled, and it soon became hard work to hold them. But on no account were the men to let go until the word was given.
When at last the paper walls were extended to their uttermost size, the wondering spectators saw a huge ball of some one hundred and ten feet in circumference, swaying uneasily to and fro with every breath of air, as though straining at its fetters. At last came the word. The ropes were released, and the great body rose rapidly into the air, followed by a thunder of applause. With straining eyes the crowd followed that wondrous flight. Higher and higher, nearer and nearer to the clouds, till what a few moments before was so very imposing in size seemed no bigger than a child's plaything. Then, caught in a current of air, it drifted out of sight for ever.
Such was the launching of the first ship in the new navigation of the clouds. On the place from which it started a handsome monument has been erected, bearing the names of the two builders—Joseph and Stephen Montgolfier—the brothers who always worked together, sharing equally the fame that their discovery brought, and never selfishly seeking for self-advancement. Recent searchings seem to show that the principal honour is due to Joseph, the elder, and, if one of the many stories told in detail (and repeated at the beginning of this article) may be relied upon, surely we ought to also remember with some praise the unknown woman who let lodgings in Avignon.
John Lea.
THE WAY TO WIN.
