A Voyage in a Balloon | Page 8

to the sides of the car, and a sort of fine snow
penetrated to my bones. Meanwhile a terrific storm was bursting
beneath our feet. We were above it.

"Do not fear," said my strange companion; "it is only imprudence that
makes victims. Olivari, who perished at Orleans, ascended in a
mongolfier made of paper; his car, suspended below the chafing-dish,
and ballasted with combustible materials, became a prey to the flames!
Olivari fell, and was killed. Mosment ascended at Lille, on a light
platform; an oscillation made him lose his equilibrium. Mosment fell,
and was killed. Bittorf, at Manheim, saw his paper balloon take fire in
the air! Bittorf fell, and was killed. Harris ascended in a balloon badly
constructed, the valve of which was too large to be closed again. Harris
fell, and was killed. Sadler, deprived of ballast by his long stay in the
air, was dragged over the city of Boston, and thrown against the
chimneys. Sadler fell, and was killed. Cocking descended with a
convex parachute which he pretended to have perfected. Cocking fell,
and was killed. Well, I love them, those noble victims of their courage!
and I will die like them! Higher! higher!"
All the phantoms of this necrology were passing before my eyes! The
rarefaction of the air and the rays of tile sun increased the dilatation of
the gas; the balloon continued to ascend! I mechanically attempted to
open the valve; but the unknown cut the cord a few feet above my head.
I was lost!
"Did you see Madame Blanchard fall?" said he to me. "I saw her, I--yes,
I was at Tivoli on the 6th of July, 1819. Madame Blanchard ascended
in a balloon of small size, to save the expense of filling; she was
therefore obliged to inflate it entirely, and the gas escaped by the lower
orifice, leaving on its route a train of hydrogen. She carried, suspended
above her car, by an iron wire, a kind of firework, forming an aureola,
which she was to kindle. She had often repeated this experiment. On
this occasion she carried, besides, a little parachute, ballasted by a
firework terminating in a ball with silver rain. Site was to launch this
apparatus, after having lighted it with a _lance à feu_, prepared for the
purpose. She ascended. The night was dark. At the moment of lighting
the firework, she was so imprudent as to let the lance pass beneath the
column of hydrogen, which was escaping from the balloon. My eyes
were fixed on her. Suddenly an unexpected flash illuminated the
darkness. I thought it a surprise of the skilful aeronaut. The flame
increased, suddenly disappeared, and re-appeared at the top of the
aerostat under the form of an immense jet of burning gas. This sinister

light projected over the Boulevard, and over the quarter Montmartre.
Then I saw the unfortunate woman rise, twice attempt to compress the
orifice of the balloon, to extinguish the fire, then seat herself in the car
and seek to direct its descent; for she did not fall. The combustion of
the gas lasted several minutes. The balloon, diminishing by degrees,
continued to descend, but this was not a fall! The wind blew from the
northeast, and drove her over Paris. There were, at that time, in the
neighbourhood of the house No. 16 Rue de Provence, immense gardens.
The aeronaut might have fallen there without danger. But unhappily the
balloon and the car alighted on the roof of the house. The shock was
slight. 'Help!' cried the unfortunate woman. I arrived in the street at that
moment. The car slid along the roof, and encountered an iron hook. At
this shock, Madame Blanchard was thrown out of the car, and
precipitated on the pavement! She was killed!"
These histories of fatal augury froze me with horror. The unknown was
standing upright, with bare head, bristling hair, haggard eyes.
Illusion was no longer possible. I saw at last the horrible truth. I had to
deal with a madman!
He threw out half the ballast, and we must have been borne to a height
of 7000 metres! Blood spouted from my nose and mouth.
"What a fine thing it is to be martyrs to science! They are canonized by
posterity!"
I heard no more. The unknown looked around him with horror, and
knelt at my ear.
"On the 7th of October, 1804, the weather had began to clear up a little;
for several days preceding, the wind and rain had been incessant. But
the ascension announced by Zambecarri could not be postponed! His
idiot enemies already scoffed at him. To save himself and science from
public ridicule, it became necessary for him to ascend. It was at
Bologna! No one aided him in filling his balloon; he rose