Chapter II: Front Matter (2)

It appears that on the—— day of—— (I am not positive about the
date), a vast crowd of people, for purposes not specifically
mentioned, were assembled in the great square of the Exchange in
the well-conditioned city of Rotterdam. The day was
warm—unusually so for the season—there was hardly a breath of air
stirring; and the multitude were in no bad humor at being now and
then besprinkled with friendly showers of momentary duration,
that fell from large white masses of cloud which chequered in a
fitful manner the blue vault of the firmament. Nevertheless,
about noon, a slight but remarkable agitation became apparent in
the assembly: the clattering of ten thousand tongues succeeded;
and, in an instant afterward, ten thousand faces were upturned
toward the heavens, ten thousand pipes descended simultaneously
from the corners of ten thousand mouths, and a shout, which could
be compared to nothing but the roaring of Niagara, resounded
long, loudly, and furiously, through all the environs of
Rotterdam.

The origin of this hubbub soon became sufficiently evident. From
behind the huge bulk of one of those sharply-defined masses of
cloud already mentioned, was seen slowly to emerge into an open
area of blue space, a queer, heterogeneous, but apparently solid
substance, so oddly shaped, so whimsically put together, as not
to be in any manner comprehended, and never to be sufficiently
admired, by the host of sturdy burghers who stood open-mouthed
below. What could it be? In the name of all the vrows and devils
in Rotterdam, what could it possibly portend? No one knew, no one
could imagine; no one—not even the burgomaster Mynheer Superbus
Von Underduk—had the slightest clew by which to unravel the
mystery; so, as nothing more reasonable could be done, every one
to a man replaced his pipe carefully in the corner of his mouth,
and cocking up his right eye towards the phenomenon, puffed,
paused, waddled about, and grunted significantly—then waddled
back, grunted, paused, and finally—puffed again.

In the meantime, however, lower and still lower toward the goodly
city, came the object of so much curiosity, and the cause of so
much smoke. In a very few minutes it arrived near enough to be
accurately discerned. It appeared to be—yes! it was undoubtedly a
species of balloon; but surely no such balloon had ever been seen
in Rotterdam before. For who, let me ask, ever heard of a balloon
manufactured entirely of dirty newspapers? No man in Holland
certainly; yet here, under the very noses of the people, or
rather at some distance above their noses was the identical thing
in question, and composed, I have it on the best authority, of
the precise material which no one had ever before known to be
used for a similar purpose. It was an egregious insult to the
good sense of the burghers of Rotterdam. As to the shape of the
phenomenon, it was even still more reprehensible. Being little or
nothing better than a huge foolscap turned upside down. And this
similitude was regarded as by no means lessened when, upon nearer
inspection, there was perceived a large tassel depending from its
apex, and, around the upper rim or base of the cone, a circle of
little instruments, resembling sheep-bells, which kept up a
continual tinkling to the tune of Betty Martin. But still worse.
Suspended by blue ribbons to the end of this fantastic machine,
there hung, by way of car, an enormous drab beaver hat, with a
brim superlatively broad, and a hemispherical crown with a black
band and a silver buckle. It is, however, somewhat remarkable
that many citizens of Rotterdam swore to having seen the same hat
repeatedly before; and indeed the whole assembly seemed to regard
it with eyes of familiarity; while the vrow Grettel Pfaall, upon
sight of it, uttered an exclamation of joyful surprise, and
declared it to be the identical hat of her good man himself. Now
this was a circumstance the more to be observed, as Pfaall, with
three companions, had actually disappeared from Rotterdam about
five years before, in a very sudden and unaccountable manner, and
up to the date of this narrative all attempts had failed of
obtaining any intelligence concerning them whatsoever. To be
sure, some bones which were thought to be human, mixed up with a
quantity of odd-looking rubbish, had been lately discovered in a
retired situation to the east of Rotterdam, and some people went
so far as to imagine that in this spot a foul murder had been
committed, and that the sufferers were in all probability Hans
Pfaall and his associates. But to return.

The balloon (for such no doubt it was) had now descended to
within a hundred feet of the earth, allowing the crowd below a
sufficiently distinct view of the person of its occupant. This
was in truth a very droll little somebody. He could not have been
more than two feet in height; but this altitude, little as it
was, would have been sufficient to destroy his equilibrium, and
tilt him over the edge of his tiny car, but for the intervention
of a circular rim reaching as high as the breast, and rigged on
to the cords of the balloon. The body of the little man was more
than proportionately broad, giving to his entire figure a
rotundity highly absurd. His feet, of course, could not be seen
at all, although a horny substance of suspicious nature was
occasionally protruded through a rent in the bottom of the car,
or to speak more properly, in the top of the hat. His hands were
enormously large. His hair was extremely gray, and collected into
a queue behind. His nose was prodigiously long, crooked, and
inflammatory; his eyes full, brilliant, and acute; his chin and
cheeks, although wrinkled with age, were broad, puffy, and
double; but of ears of any kind or character there was not a
semblance to be discovered upon any portion of his head. This odd
little gentleman was dressed in a loose surtout of sky-blue
satin, with tight breeches to match, fastened with silver buckles
at the knees. His vest was of some bright yellow material; a
white taffety cap was set jauntily on one side of his head; and,
to complete his equipment, a blood-red silk handkerchief
enveloped his throat, and fell down, in a dainty manner, upon his
bosom, in a fantastic bow-knot of super-eminent dimensions.

Having descended, as I said before, to about one hundred feet
from the surface of the earth, the little old gentleman was
suddenly seized with a fit of trepidation, and appeared
disinclined to make any nearer approach to terra firma. Throwing
out, therefore, a quantity of sand from a canvas bag, which, he
lifted with great difficulty, he became stationary in an instant.
He then proceeded, in a hurried and agitated manner, to extract
from a side-pocket in his surtout a large morocco pocket-book.
This he poised suspiciously in his hand, then eyed it with an air
of extreme surprise, and was evidently astonished at its weight.
He at length opened it, and drawing there from a huge letter
sealed with red sealing-wax and tied carefully with red tape, let
it fall precisely at the feet of the burgomaster, Superbus Von
Underduk. His Excellency stooped to take it up. But the aeronaut,
still greatly discomposed, and having apparently no farther
business to detain him in Rotterdam, began at this moment to make
busy preparations for departure; and it being necessary to
discharge a portion of ballast to enable him to reascend, the
half dozen bags which he threw out, one after another, without
taking the trouble to empty their contents, tumbled, every one of
them, most unfortunately upon the back of the burgomaster, and
rolled him over and over no less than one-and-twenty times, in
the face of every man in Rotterdam. It is not to be supposed,
however, that the great Underduk suffered this impertinence on
the part of the little old man to pass off with impunity. It is
said, on the contrary, that during each and every one of his
one-and twenty circumvolutions he emitted no less than
one-and-twenty distinct and furious whiffs from his pipe, to
which he held fast the whole time with all his might, and to
which he intends holding fast until the day of his death.

In the meantime the balloon arose like a lark, and, soaring far
away above the city, at length drifted quietly behind a cloud
similar to that from which it had so oddly emerged, and was thus
lost forever to the wondering eyes of the good citizens of
Rotterdam. All attention was now directed to the letter, the
descent of which, and the consequences attending thereupon, had
proved so fatally subversive of both person and personal dignity
to his Excellency, the illustrious Burgomaster Mynheer Superbus
Von Underduk. That functionary, however, had not failed, during
his circumgyratory movements, to bestow a thought upon the
important subject of securing the packet in question, which was
seen, upon inspection, to have fallen into the most proper hands,
being actually addressed to himself and Professor Rub-a-dub, in
their official capacities of President and Vice-President of the
Rotterdam College of Astronomy. It was accordingly opened by
those dignitaries upon the spot, and found to contain the
following extraordinary, and indeed very serious, communication:

“To their Excellencies Von Underduk and Rub-a-dub, President and
Vice-President of the States’ College of Astronomers, in the city
of Rotterdam.

“Your Excellencies may perhaps be able to remember an humble
artizan, by name Hans Pfaall, and by occupation a mender of
bellows, who, with three others, disappeared from Rotterdam,
about five years ago, in a manner which must have been considered
by all parties at once sudden, and extremely unaccountable. If,
however, it so please your Excellencies, I, the writer of this
communication, am the identical Hans Pfaall himself. It is well
known to most of my fellow citizens, that for the period of forty
years I continued to occupy the little square brick building, at
the head of the alley called Sauerkraut, in which I resided at
the time of my disappearance. My ancestors have also resided
therein time out of mind—they, as well as myself, steadily
following the respectable and indeed lucrative profession of
mending of bellows. For, to speak the truth, until of late years,
that the heads of all the people have been set agog with
politics, no better business than my own could an honest citizen
of Rotterdam either desire or deserve. Credit was good,
employment was never wanting, and on all hands there was no lack
of either money or good-will. But, as I was saying, we soon began
to feel the effects of liberty and long speeches, and radicalism,
and all that sort of thing. People who were formerly, the very
best customers in the world, had now not a moment of time to
think of us at all. They had, so they said, as much as they could
do to read about the revolutions, and keep up with the march of
intellect and the spirit of the age. If a fire wanted fanning, it
could readily be fanned with a newspaper, and as the government
grew weaker, I have no doubt that leather and iron acquired
durability in proportion, for, in a very short time, there was
not a pair of bellows in all Rotterdam that ever stood in need of
a stitch or required the assistance of a hammer. This was a state
of things not to be endured. I soon grew as poor as a rat, and,
having a wife and children to provide for, my burdens at length
became intolerable, and I spent hour after hour in reflecting
upon the most convenient method of putting an end to my life.
Duns, in the meantime, left me little leisure for contemplation.
My house was literally besieged from morning till night, so that
I began to rave, and foam, and fret like a caged tiger against
the bars of his enclosure. There were three fellows in particular
who worried me beyond endurance, keeping watch continually about
my door, and threatening me with the law. Upon these three I
internally vowed the bitterest revenge, if ever I should be so
happy as to get them within my clutches; and I believe nothing in
the world but the pleasure of this anticipation prevented me from
putting my plan of suicide into immediate execution, by blowing
my brains out with a blunderbuss. I thought it best, however, to
dissemble my wrath, and to treat them with promises and fair
words, until, by some good turn of fate, an opportunity of
vengeance should be afforded me.

“One day, having given my creditors the slip, and feeling more
than usually dejected, I continued for a long time to wander
about the most obscure streets without object whatever, until at
length I chanced to stumble against the corner of a bookseller’s
stall. Seeing a chair close at hand, for the use of customers, I
threw myself doggedly into it, and, hardly knowing why, opened
the pages of the first volume which came within my reach. It
proved to be a small pamphlet treatise on Speculative Astronomy,
written either by Professor Encke of Berlin or by a Frenchman of
somewhat similar name. I had some little tincture of information
on matters of this nature, and soon became more and more absorbed
in the contents of the book, reading it actually through twice
before I awoke to a recollection of what was passing around me.
By this time it began to grow dark, and I directed my steps
toward home. But the treatise had made an indelible impression on
my mind, and, as I sauntered along the dusky streets, I revolved
carefully over in my memory the wild and sometimes unintelligible
reasonings of the writer. There are some particular passages
which affected my imagination in a powerful and extraordinary
manner. The longer I meditated upon these the more intense grew
the interest which had been excited within me. The limited nature
of my education in general, and more especially my ignorance on
subjects connected with natural philosophy, so far from rendering
me diffident of my own ability to comprehend what I had read, or
inducing me to mistrust the many vague notions which had arisen
in consequence, merely served as a farther stimulus to
imagination; and I was vain enough, or perhaps reasonable enough,
to doubt whether those crude ideas which, arising in
ill-regulated minds, have all the appearance, may not often in
effect possess all the force, the reality, and other inherent
properties, of instinct or intuition; whether, to proceed a step
farther, profundity itself might not, in matters of a purely
speculative nature, be detected as a legitimate source of falsity
and error. In other words, I believed, and still do believe, that
truth, is frequently of its own essence, superficial, and that,
in many cases, the depth lies more in the abysses where we seek
her, than in the actual situations wherein she may be found.
Nature herself seemed to afford me corroboration of these ideas.
In the contemplation of the heavenly bodies it struck me forcibly
that I could not distinguish a star with nearly as much
precision, when I gazed on it with earnest, direct and
undeviating attention, as when I suffered my eye only to glance
in its vicinity alone. I was not, of course, at that time aware
that this apparent paradox was occasioned by the center of the
visual area being less susceptible of feeble impressions of light
than the exterior portions of the retina. This knowledge, and
some of another kind, came afterwards in the course of an
eventful five years, during which I have dropped the prejudices
of my former humble situation in life, and forgotten the
bellows-mender in far different occupations. But at the epoch of
which I speak, the analogy which a casual observation of a star
offered to the conclusions I had already drawn, struck me with
the force of positive conformation, and I then finally made up my
mind to the course which I afterwards pursued.

“It was late when I reached home, and I went immediately to bed.
My mind, however, was too much occupied to sleep, and I lay the
whole night buried in meditation. Arising early in the morning,
and contriving again to escape the vigilance of my creditors, I
repaired eagerly to the bookseller’s stall, and laid out what
little ready money I possessed, in the purchase of some volumes
of Mechanics and Practical Astronomy. Having arrived at home
safely with these, I devoted every spare moment to their perusal,
and soon made such proficiency in studies of this nature as I
thought sufficient for the execution of my plan. In the intervals
of this period, I made every endeavor to conciliate the three
creditors who had given me so much annoyance. In this I finally
succeeded—partly by selling enough of my household furniture to
satisfy a moiety of their claim, and partly by a promise of
paying the balance upon completion of a little project which I
told them I had in view, and for assistance in which I solicited
their services. By these means—for they were ignorant men—I found
little difficulty in gaining them over to my purpose.

“Matters being thus arranged, I contrived, by the aid of my wife
and with the greatest secrecy and caution, to dispose of what
property I had remaining, and to borrow, in small sums, under
various pretences, and without paying any attention to my future
means of repayment, no inconsiderable quantity of ready money.
With the means thus accruing I proceeded to procure at intervals,
cambric muslin, very fine, in pieces of twelve yards each; twine;
a lot of the varnish of caoutchouc; a large and deep basket of
wicker-work, made to order; and several other articles necessary
in the construction and equipment of a balloon of extraordinary
dimensions. This I directed my wife to make up as soon as
possible, and gave her all requisite information as to the
particular method of proceeding. In the meantime I worked up the
twine into a net-work of sufficient dimensions; rigged it with a
hoop and the necessary cords; bought a quadrant, a compass, a
spy-glass, a common barometer with some important modifications,
and two astronomical instruments not so generally known. I then
took opportunities of conveying by night, to a retired situation
east of Rotterdam, five iron-bound casks, to contain about fifty
gallons each, and one of a larger size; six tinned ware tubes,
three inches in diameter, properly shaped, and ten feet in
length; a quantity of a particular metallic substance, or
semi-metal, which I shall not name, and a dozen demijohns of a
very common acid. The gas to be formed from these latter
materials is a gas never yet generated by any other person than
myself—or at least never applied to any similar purpose. The
secret I would make no difficulty in disclosing, but that it of
right belongs to a citizen of Nantz, in France, by whom it was
conditionally communicated to myself. The same individual
submitted to me, without being at all aware of my intentions, a
method of constructing balloons from the membrane of a certain
animal, through which substance any escape of gas was nearly an
impossibility. I found it, however, altogether too expensive, and
was not sure, upon the whole, whether cambric muslin with a
coating of gum caoutchouc, was not equally as good. I mention
this circumstance, because I think it probable that hereafter the
individual in question may attempt a balloon ascension with the
novel gas and material I have spoken of, and I do not wish to
deprive him of the honor of a very singular invention.

“On the spot which I intended each of the smaller casks to occupy
respectively during the inflation of the balloon, I privately dug
a hole two feet deep; the holes forming in this manner a circle
twenty-five feet in diameter. In the centre of this circle, being
the station designed for the large cask, I also dug a hole three
feet in depth. In each of the five smaller holes, I deposited a
canister containing fifty pounds, and in the larger one a keg
holding one hundred and fifty pounds, of cannon powder. These—the
keg and canisters—I connected in a proper manner with covered
trains; and having let into one of the canisters the end of about
four feet of slow match, I covered up the hole, and placed the
cask over it, leaving the other end of the match protruding about
an inch, and barely visible beyond the cask. I then filled up the
remaining holes, and placed the barrels over them in their
destined situation.

“Besides the articles above enumerated, I conveyed to the depot,
and there secreted, one of M. Grimm’s improvements upon the
apparatus for condensation of the atmospheric air. I found this
machine, however, to require considerable alteration before it
could be adapted to the purposes to which I intended making it
applicable. But, with severe labor and unremitting perseverance,
I at length met with entire success in all my preparations. My
balloon was soon completed. It would contain more than forty
thousand cubic feet of gas; would take me up easily, I
calculated, with all my implements, and, if I managed rightly,
with one hundred and seventy-five pounds of ballast into the
bargain. It had received three coats of varnish, and I found the
cambric muslin to answer all the purposes of silk itself, quite
as strong and a good deal less expensive.

“Everything being now ready, I exacted from my wife an oath of
secrecy in relation to all my actions from the day of my first
visit to the bookseller’s stall; and promising, on my part, to
return as soon as circumstances would permit, I gave her what
little money I had left, and bade her farewell. Indeed I had no
fear on her account. She was what people call a notable woman,
and could manage matters in the world without my assistance. I
believe, to tell the truth, she always looked upon me as an idle
boy, a mere make-weight, good for nothing but building castles in
the air, and was rather glad to get rid of me. It was a dark
night when I bade her good-bye, and taking with me, as
aides-de-camp, the three creditors who had given me so much
trouble, we carried the balloon, with the car and accoutrements,
by a roundabout way, to the station where the other articles were
deposited. We there found them all unmolested, and I proceeded
immediately to business.

“It was the first of April. The night, as I said before, was
dark; there was not a star to be seen; and a drizzling rain,
falling at intervals, rendered us very uncomfortable. But my
chief anxiety was concerning the balloon, which, in spite of the
varnish with which it was defended, began to grow rather heavy
with the moisture; the powder also was liable to damage. I
therefore kept my three duns working with great diligence,
pounding down ice around the central cask, and stirring the acid
in the others. They did not cease, however, importuning me with
questions as to what I intended to do with all this apparatus,
and expressed much dissatisfaction at the terrible labor I made
them undergo. They could not perceive, so they said, what good
was likely to result from their getting wet to the skin, merely
to take a part in such horrible incantations. I began to get
uneasy, and worked away with all my might, for I verily believe
the idiots supposed that I had entered into a compact with the
devil, and that, in short, what I was now doing was nothing
better than it should be. I was, therefore, in great fear of
their leaving me altogether. I contrived, however, to pacify them
by promises of payment of all scores in full, as soon as I could
bring the present business to a termination. To these speeches
they gave, of course, their own interpretation; fancying, no
doubt, that at all events I should come into possession of vast
quantities of ready money; and provided I paid them all I owed,
and a trifle more, in consideration of their services, I dare say
they cared very little what became of either my soul or my
carcass.

“In about four hours and a half I found the balloon sufficiently
inflated. I attached the car, therefore, and put all my
implements in it—not forgetting the condensing apparatus, a
copious supply of water, and a large quantity of provisions, such
as pemmican, in which much nutriment is contained in
comparatively little bulk. I also secured in the car a pair of
pigeons and a cat. It was now nearly daybreak, and I thought it
high time to take my departure. Dropping a lighted cigar on the
ground, as if by accident, I took the opportunity, in stooping to
pick it up, of igniting privately the piece of slow match, whose
end, as I said before, protruded a very little beyond the lower
rim of one of the smaller casks. This manoeuvre was totally
unperceived on the part of the three duns; and, jumping into the
car, I immediately cut the single cord which held me to the
earth, and was pleased to find that I shot upward, carrying with
all ease one hundred and seventy-five pounds of leaden ballast,
and able to have carried up as many more.

“Scarcely, however, had I attained the height of fifty yards,
when, roaring and rumbling up after me in the most horrible and
tumultuous manner, came so dense a hurricane of fire, and smoke,
and sulphur, and legs and arms, and gravel, and burning wood, and
blazing metal, that my very heart sunk within me, and I fell down
in the bottom of the car, trembling with unmitigated terror.
Indeed, I now perceived that I had entirely overdone the
business, and that the main consequences of the shock were yet to
be experienced. Accordingly, in less than a second, I felt all
the blood in my body rushing to my temples, and immediately
thereupon, a concussion, which I shall never forget, burst
abruptly through the night and seemed to rip the very firmament
asunder. When I afterward had time for reflection, I did not fail
to attribute the extreme violence of the explosion, as regarded
myself, to its proper cause—my situation directly above it, and
in the line of its greatest power. But at the time, I thought
only of preserving my life. The balloon at first collapsed, then
furiously expanded, then whirled round and round with horrible
velocity, and finally, reeling and staggering like a drunken man,
hurled me with great force over the rim of the car, and left me
dangling, at a terrific height, with my head downward, and my
face outwards, by a piece of slender cord about three feet in
length, which hung accidentally through a crevice near the bottom
of the wicker-work, and in which, as I fell, my left foot became
most providentially entangled. It is impossible—utterly
impossible—to form any adequate idea of the horror of my
situation. I gasped convulsively for breath—a shudder resembling
a fit of the ague agitated every nerve and muscle of my frame—I
felt my eyes starting from their sockets—a horrible nausea
overwhelmed me—and at length I fainted away.

“How long I remained in this state it is impossible to say. It
must, however, have been no inconsiderable time, for when I
partially recovered the sense of existence, I found the day
breaking, the balloon at a prodigious height over a wilderness of
ocean, and not a trace of land to be discovered far and wide
within the limits of the vast horizon. My sensations, however,
upon thus recovering, were by no means so rife with agony as
might have been anticipated. Indeed, there was much of incipient
madness in the calm survey which I began to take of my situation.
I drew up to my eyes each of my hands, one after the other, and
wondered what occurrence could have given rise to the swelling of
the veins, and the horrible blackness of the fingernails. I
afterward carefully examined my head, shaking it repeatedly, and
feeling it with minute attention, until I succeeded in satisfying
myself that it was not, as I had more than half suspected, larger
than my balloon. Then, in a knowing manner, I felt in both my
breeches pockets, and, missing therefrom a set of tablets and a
toothpick case, endeavored to account for their disappearance,
and not being able to do so, felt inexpressibly chagrined. It now
occurred to me that I suffered great uneasiness in the joint of
my left ankle, and a dim consciousness of my situation began to
glimmer through my mind. But, strange to say! I was neither
astonished nor horror-stricken. If I felt any emotion at all, it
was a kind of chuckling satisfaction at the cleverness I was
about to display in extricating myself from this dilemma; and I
never, for a moment, looked upon my ultimate safety as a question
susceptible of doubt. For a few minutes I remained wrapped in the
profoundest meditation. I have a distinct recollection of
frequently compressing my lips, putting my forefinger to the side
of my nose, and making use of other gesticulations and grimaces
common to men who, at ease in their arm-chairs, meditate upon
matters of intricacy or importance. Having, as I thought,
sufficiently collected my ideas, I now, with great caution and
deliberation, put my hands behind my back, and unfastened the
large iron buckle which belonged to the waistband of my
inexpressibles. This buckle had three teeth, which, being
somewhat rusty, turned with great difficulty on their axis. I
brought them, however, after some trouble, at right angles to the
body of the buckle, and was glad to find them remain firm in that
position. Holding the instrument thus obtained within my teeth, I
now proceeded to untie the knot of my cravat. I had to rest
several times before I could accomplish this manoeuvre, but it
was at length accomplished. To one end of the cravat I then made
fast the buckle, and the other end I tied, for greater security,
tightly around my wrist. Drawing now my body upwards, with a
prodigious exertion of muscular force, I succeeded, at the very
first trial, in throwing the buckle over the car, and entangling
it, as I had anticipated, in the circular rim of the wicker-work.

“My body was now inclined towards the side of the car, at an
angle of about forty-five degrees; but it must not be understood
that I was therefore only forty-five degrees below the
perpendicular. So far from it, I still lay nearly level with the
plane of the horizon; for the change of situation which I had
acquired, had forced the bottom of the car considerably outwards
from my position, which was accordingly one of the most imminent
and deadly peril. It should be remembered, however, that when I
fell in the first instance, from the car, if I had fallen with my
face turned toward the balloon, instead of turned outwardly from
it, as it actually was; or if, in the second place, the cord by
which I was suspended had chanced to hang over the upper edge,
instead of through a crevice near the bottom of the car,—I say it
may be readily conceived that, in either of these supposed cases,
I should have been unable to accomplish even as much as I had now
accomplished, and the wonderful adventures of Hans Pfaall would
have been utterly lost to posterity, I had therefore every reason
to be grateful; although, in point of fact, I was still too
stupid to be anything at all, and hung for, perhaps, a quarter of
an hour in that extraordinary manner, without making the
slightest farther exertion whatsoever, and in a singularly
tranquil state of idiotic enjoyment. But this feeling did not
fail to die rapidly away, and thereunto succeeded horror, and
dismay, and a chilling sense of utter helplessness and ruin. In
fact, the blood so long accumulating in the vessels of my head
and throat, and which had hitherto buoyed up my spirits with
madness and delirium, had now begun to retire within their proper
channels, and the distinctness which was thus added to my
perception of the danger, merely served to deprive me of the
self-possession and courage to encounter it. But this weakness
was, luckily for me, of no very long duration. In good time came
to my rescue the spirit of despair, and, with frantic cries and
struggles, I jerked my way bodily upwards, till at length,
clutching with a vise-like grip the long-desired rim, I writhed
my person over it, and fell headlong and shuddering within the
car.

“It was not until some time afterward that I recovered myself
sufficiently to attend to the ordinary cares of the balloon. I
then, however, examined it with attention, and found it, to my
great relief, uninjured. My implements were all safe, and,
fortunately, I had lost neither ballast nor provisions. Indeed, I
had so well secured them in their places, that such an accident
was entirely out of the question. Looking at my watch, I found it
six o’clock. I was still rapidly ascending, and my barometer gave
a present altitude of three and three-quarter miles. Immediately
beneath me in the ocean, lay a small black object, slightly
oblong in shape, seemingly about the size, and in every way
bearing a great resemblance to one of those childish toys called
a domino. Bringing my telescope to bear upon it, I plainly
discerned it to be a British ninety four-gun ship, close-hauled,
and pitching heavily in the sea with her head to the W.S.W.
Besides this ship, I saw nothing but the ocean and the sky, and
the sun, which had long arisen.

“It is now high time that I should explain to your Excellencies
the object of my perilous voyage. Your Excellencies will bear in
mind that distressed circumstances in Rotterdam had at length
driven me to the resolution of committing suicide. It was not,
however, that to life itself I had any positive disgust, but that
I was harassed beyond endurance by the adventitious miseries
attending my situation. In this state of mind, wishing to live,
yet wearied with life, the treatise at the stall of the
bookseller opened a resource to my imagination. I then finally
made up my mind. I determined to depart, yet live—to leave the
world, yet continue to exist—in short, to drop enigmas, I
resolved, let what would ensue, to force a passage, if I could,
to the moon. Now, lest I should be supposed more of a madman than
I actually am, I will detail, as well as I am able, the
considerations which led me to believe that an achievement of
this nature, although without doubt difficult, and incontestably
full of danger, was not absolutely, to a bold spirit, beyond the
confines of the possible.

“The moon’s actual distance from the earth was the first thing to
be attended to. Now, the mean or average interval between the
centres of the two planets is 59.9643 of the earth’s equatorial
radii, or only about 237,000 miles. I say the mean or average
interval, but it must be borne in mind that the form of the
moon’s orbit being an ellipse of eccentricity amounting to no
less than 0.05484 of the major semi-axis of the ellipse itself,
and the earth’s centre being situated in its focus, if I could,
in any manner, contrive to meet the moon, as it were, in its
perigee, the above mentioned distance would be materially
diminished. But, to say nothing at present of this possibility,
it was very certain that, at all events, from the 237,000 miles I
would have to deduct the radius of the earth, say 4,000, and the
radius of the moon, say 1,080, in all 5,080, leaving an actual
interval to be traversed, under average circumstances, of 231,920
miles. Now this, I reflected, was no very extraordinary distance.
Travelling on land has been repeatedly accomplished at the rate
of thirty miles per hour, and indeed a much greater speed may be
anticipated. But even at this velocity, it would take me no more
than 322 days to reach the surface of the moon. There were,
however, many particulars inducing me to believe that my average
rate of travelling might possibly very much exceed that of thirty
miles per hour, and, as these considerations did not fail to make
a deep impression upon my mind, I will mention them more fully
hereafter.

“The next point to be regarded was a matter of far greater
importance. From indications afforded by the barometer, we find
that, in ascensions from the surface of the earth we have, at the
height of 1,000 feet, left below us about one-thirtieth of the
entire mass of atmospheric air, that at 10,600 we have ascended
through nearly one-third; and that at 18,000, which is not far
from the elevation of Cotopaxi, we have surmounted one-half the
material, or, at all events, one-half the ponderable, body of air
incumbent upon our globe. It is also calculated that at an
altitude not exceeding the hundredth part of the earth’s
diameter—that is, not exceeding eighty miles—the rarefaction
would be so excessive that animal life could in no manner be
sustained, and, moreover, that the most delicate means we possess
of ascertaining the presence of the atmosphere would be
inadequate to assure us of its existence. But I did not fail to
perceive that these latter calculations are founded altogether on
our experimental knowledge of the properties of air, and the
mechanical laws regulating its dilation and compression, in what
may be called, comparatively speaking, the immediate vicinity of
the earth itself; and, at the same time, it is taken for granted
that animal life is and must be essentially incapable of
modification at any given unattainable distance from the surface.
Now, all such reasoning and from such data must, of course, be
simply analogical. The greatest height ever reached by man was
that of 25,000 feet, attained in the aeronautic expedition of
Messieurs Gay-Lussac and Biot. This is a moderate altitude, even
when compared with the eighty miles in question; and I could not
help thinking that the subject admitted room for doubt and great
latitude for speculation.

“But, in point of fact, an ascension being made to any given
altitude, the ponderable quantity of air surmounted in any
farther ascension is by no means in proportion to the additional
height ascended (as may be plainly seen from what has been stated
before), but in a ratio constantly decreasing. It is therefore
evident that, ascend as high as we may, we cannot, literally
speaking, arrive at a limit beyond which no atmosphere is to be
found. It must exist, I argued; although it may exist in a state
of infinite rarefaction.

“On the other hand, I was aware that arguments have not been
wanting to prove the existence of a real and definite limit to
the atmosphere, beyond which there is absolutely no air
whatsoever. But a circumstance which has been left out of view by
those who contend for such a limit seemed to me, although no
positive refutation of their creed, still a point worthy very
serious investigation. On comparing the intervals between the
successive arrivals of Encke’s comet at its perihelion, after
giving credit, in the most exact manner, for all the disturbances
due to the attractions of the planets, it appears that the
periods are gradually diminishing; that is to say, the major axis
of the comet’s ellipse is growing shorter, in a slow but
perfectly regular decrease. Now, this is precisely what ought to
be the case, if we suppose a resistance experienced from the
comet from an extremely rare ethereal medium pervading the
regions of its orbit. For it is evident that such a medium must,
in retarding the comet’s velocity, increase its centripetal, by
weakening its centrifugal force. In other words, the sun’s
attraction would be constantly attaining greater power, and the
comet would be drawn nearer at every revolution. Indeed, there is
no other way of accounting for the variation in question. But
again:—The real diameter of the same comet’s nebulosity is
observed to contract rapidly as it approaches the sun, and dilate
with equal rapidity in its departure towards its aphelion. Was I
not justifiable in supposing with M. Valz, that this apparent
condensation of volume has its origin in the compression of the
same ethereal medium I have spoken of before, and which is only
denser in proportion to its solar vicinity? The lenticular-shaped
phenomenon, also called the zodiacal light, was a matter worthy
of attention. This radiance, so apparent in the tropics, and
which cannot be mistaken for any meteoric lustre, extends from
the horizon obliquely upward, and follows generally the direction
of the sun’s equator. It appeared to me evidently in the nature
of a rare atmosphere extending from the sun outward, beyond the
orbit of Venus at least, and I believed indefinitely farther.(*2)
Indeed, this medium I could not suppose confined to the path of
the comet’s ellipse, or to the immediate neighborhood of the sun.
It was easy, on the contrary, to imagine it pervading the entire
regions of our planetary system, condensed into what we call
atmosphere at the planets themselves, and perhaps at some of them
modified by considerations, so to speak, purely geological.

“Having adopted this view of the subject, I had little further
hesitation. Granting that on my passage I should meet with
atmosphere essentially the same as at the surface of the earth, I
conceived that, by means of the very ingenious apparatus of M.
Grimm, I should readily be enabled to condense it in sufficient
quantity for the purposes of respiration. This would remove the
chief obstacle in a journey to the moon. I had indeed spent some
money and great labor in adapting the apparatus to the object
intended, and confidently looked forward to its successful
application, if I could manage to complete the voyage within any
reasonable period. This brings me back to the rate at which it
might be possible to travel.

“It is true that balloons, in the first stage of their ascensions
from the earth, are known to rise with a velocity comparatively
moderate. Now, the power of elevation lies altogether in the
superior lightness of the gas in the balloon compared with the
atmospheric air; and, at first sight, it does not appear probable
that, as the balloon acquires altitude, and consequently arrives
successively in atmospheric strata of densities rapidly
diminishing—I say, it does not appear at all reasonable that, in
this its progress upwards, the original velocity should be
accelerated. On the other hand, I was not aware that, in any
recorded ascension, a diminution was apparent in the absolute
rate of ascent; although such should have been the case, if on
account of nothing else, on account of the escape of gas through
balloons ill-constructed, and varnished with no better material
than the ordinary varnish. It seemed, therefore, that the effect
of such escape was only sufficient to counterbalance the effect
of some accelerating power. I now considered that, provided in my
passage I found the medium I had imagined, and provided that it
should prove to be actually and essentially what we denominate
atmospheric air, it could make comparatively little difference at
what extreme state of rarefaction I should discover it—that is to
say, in regard to my power of ascending—for the gas in the
balloon would not only be itself subject to rarefaction partially
similar (in proportion to the occurrence of which, I could suffer
an escape of so much as would be requisite to prevent explosion),
but, being what it was, would, at all events, continue
specifically lighter than any compound whatever of mere nitrogen
and oxygen. In the meantime, the force of gravitation would be
constantly diminishing, in proportion to the squares of the
distances, and thus, with a velocity prodigiously accelerating, I
should at length arrive in those distant regions where the force
of the earth’s attraction would be superseded by that of the
moon. In accordance with these ideas, I did not think it worth
while to encumber myself with more provisions than would be
sufficient for a period of forty days.

“There was still, however, another difficulty, which occasioned
me some little disquietude. It has been observed, that, in
balloon ascensions to any considerable height, besides the pain
attending respiration, great uneasiness is experienced about the
head and body, often accompanied with bleeding at the nose, and
other symptoms of an alarming kind, and growing more and more
inconvenient in proportion to the altitude attained.(*3) This was
a reflection of a nature somewhat startling. Was it not probable
that these symptoms would increase indefinitely, or at least
until terminated by death itself? I finally thought not. Their
origin was to be looked for in the progressive removal of the
customary atmospheric pressure upon the surface of the body, and
consequent distention of the superficial blood-vessels—not in any
positive disorganization of the animal system, as in the case of
difficulty in breathing, where the atmospheric density is
chemically insufficient for the due renovation of blood in a
ventricle of the heart. Unless for default of this renovation, I
could see no reason, therefore, why life could not be sustained
even in a vacuum; for the expansion and compression of chest,
commonly called breathing, is action purely muscular, and the
cause, not the effect, of respiration. In a word, I conceived
that, as the body should become habituated to the want of
atmospheric pressure, the sensations of pain would gradually
diminish—and to endure them while they continued, I relied with
confidence upon the iron hardihood of my constitution.

“Thus, may it please your Excellencies, I have detailed some,
though by no means all, the considerations which led me to form
the project of a lunar voyage. I shall now proceed to lay before
you the result of an attempt so apparently audacious in
conception, and, at all events, so utterly unparalleled in the
annals of mankind.

“Having attained the altitude before mentioned, that is to say
three miles and three-quarters, I threw out from the car a
quantity of feathers, and found that I still ascended with
sufficient rapidity; there was, therefore, no necessity for
discharging any ballast. I was glad of this, for I wished to
retain with me as much weight as I could carry, for reasons which
will be explained in the sequel. I as yet suffered no bodily
inconvenience, breathing with great freedom, and feeling no pain
whatever in the head. The cat was lying very demurely upon my
coat, which I had taken off, and eyeing the pigeons with an air
of nonchalance. These latter being tied by the leg, to prevent
their escape, were busily employed in picking up some grains of
rice scattered for them in the bottom of the car.

“At twenty minutes past six o’clock, the barometer showed an
elevation of 26,400 feet, or five miles to a fraction. The
prospect seemed unbounded. Indeed, it is very easily calculated
by means of spherical geometry, what a great extent of the
earth’s area I beheld. The convex surface of any segment of a
sphere is, to the entire surface of the sphere itself, as the
versed sine of the segment to the diameter of the sphere. Now, in
my case, the versed sine—that is to say, the thickness of the
segment beneath me—was about equal to my elevation, or the
elevation of the point of sight above the surface. ‘As five
miles, then, to eight thousand,’ would express the proportion of
the earth’s area seen by me. In other words, I beheld as much as
a sixteen-hundredth part of the whole surface of the globe. The
sea appeared unruffled as a mirror, although, by means of the
spy-glass, I could perceive it to be in a state of violent
agitation. The ship was no longer visible, having drifted away,
apparently to the eastward. I now began to experience, at
intervals, severe pain in the head, especially about the
ears—still, however, breathing with tolerable freedom. The cat
and pigeons seemed to suffer no inconvenience whatsoever.

“At twenty minutes before seven, the balloon entered a long
series of dense cloud, which put me to great trouble, by damaging
my condensing apparatus and wetting me to the skin. This was, to
be sure, a singular recontre, for I had not believed it possible
that a cloud of this nature could be sustained at so great an
elevation. I thought it best, however, to throw out two
five-pound pieces of ballast, reserving still a weight of one
hundred and sixty-five pounds. Upon so doing, I soon rose above
the difficulty, and perceived immediately, that I had obtained a
great increase in my rate of ascent. In a few seconds after my
leaving the cloud, a flash of vivid lightning shot from one end
of it to the other, and caused it to kindle up, throughout its
vast extent, like a mass of ignited and glowing charcoal. This,
it must be remembered, was in the broad light of day. No fancy
may picture the sublimity which might have been exhibited by a
similar phenomenon taking place amid the darkness of the night.
Hell itself might have been found a fitting image. Even as it
was, my hair stood on end, while I gazed afar down within the
yawning abysses, letting imagination descend, as it were, and
stalk about in the strange vaulted halls, and ruddy gulfs, and
red ghastly chasms of the hideous and unfathomable fire. I had
indeed made a narrow escape. Had the balloon remained a very
short while longer within the cloud—that is to say—had not the
inconvenience of getting wet, determined me to discharge the
ballast, inevitable ruin would have been the consequence. Such
perils, although little considered, are perhaps the greatest
which must be encountered in balloons. I had by this time,
however, attained too great an elevation to be any longer uneasy
on this head.