 | Tales of the grotesque and arabesque |  |
HANS PHAALL.[1]
By late accounts from Rotterdam that city seems
to be in a high state of philosophical excitement.
Indeed phenomena have there occurred of a nature
so completely unexpected, so entirely novel, so utterly
at variance with preconceived opinions, as to leave
no doubt on my mind that long ere this all Europe
is in an uproar, all physics in a ferment, all dynamics
and astronomy together by the ears.
It appears that on the—day of—,(I am not
positive about the date,) a vast crowd of people, for
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. These
occasionally 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 afterwards ten thousand faces were
upturned towards 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, loud, 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
body or 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—
Von Underduk, had the slightest clue 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 left 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
towards 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 entirely
manufactured of dirty newspapers? No man in
Holland certainly—yet here under the very noses
of the people, or rather, so to speak, 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 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 by no means lessened, when, upon
nearer inspection, there was perceived a large tassel
depending from its apex, and around the upper rim
sheep-bells, which kept up a continual
tinkling to the tune of Betty Martin. But still worse.
Suspended by blue ribbands 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 Phaall, 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 Phaall, 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, and 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
Phaall 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
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 enough 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
proportionally 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 cue 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 supereminent dimensions.
Having descended, as I said before, to about one
old gentleman was suddenly seized with a fit of trepidation,
and appeared altogether disinclined to make
any nearer approach to terra firma. Throwing out,
therefore, a quantity of sand from a canvass 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
of 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 therefrom 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 of sand 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 the period of each
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,
whose descent 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 movement, to bestow a thought upon
the important object of securing the packet in question,
which was seen, upon inspection, to have fallen
into the most proper hands, being actually directed
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
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 Phaall 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 Sauer-kraut,
and 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 the troubles and
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 terrible 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
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 speediest and 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 utmost
severity of 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
without any 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, as it were, to a recollection of what was
passing around me. By this time it began to grow
dark, and I directed my steps towards 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 were 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;
to doubt whether those crude ideas which, arising in
ill-regulated minds, have all the appearance, may not
often in effect possess also the force—the reality—
and other inherent properties of instinct or intuition;
and 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
upon 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 centre 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
period of 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 the casual observation of a star offered
to the conclusions I had already drawn, struck
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
of ready money. With the means thus accruing I
proceeded to purchase 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 demi-johns 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
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 of 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 the 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
placed the barrels over them in their destined situation.
Besides the articles above enumerated, I conveyed
to the depôt, 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, I
calculated, easily, 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 admit, I gave her all the
money I had left, and bade her farewell. Indeed I
had little 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
body, a mere make-weight, good for nothing but
get rid of me. It was a dark night when I bade her
good bye, and, taking with me, as aids-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 my balloon, which in spite of the varnish
with which it was defended, began to grow rather
heavy with the moisture: my 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
to pacify them by promises of immediate payment
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 manœuvre 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 upwards,
rapidly 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 afterwards 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 exact 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 downwards,
and my face outwards from the balloon, 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.
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 in 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, and
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 finger nails.
I afterwards 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 tooth-pick case, I endeavored to
account for their disappearance, and, not being able
to do so, felt inexpressibly chagrined. It now occurred
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 fore-finger,
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 upon 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
manœuvre—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,
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 towards 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 readily be 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 Phaal 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, I suppose,
a quarter of an hour, in that extraordinary
manner, without making the slightest farther exertion
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 convulsive struggles, I
jerked my way bodily upwards, till, at length, clutching
with a vice-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 afterwards 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 I had,
fortunately, 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 showed a
present altitude of three and three-quarter miles.
Immediately beneath me in the ocean, lay a small
about the size, and in every way bearing a great
resemblance to one of those childish toys called a
domino. Bringing my spy-glass 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 237000 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 elipse of eccentricity
amounting to no less than 0.05484 of the
major semi-axis of the elipse 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 237000 miles I should have to
deduct the radius of the earth, say 4000, and the
radius of the moon, say 1080, in all 5080, leaving an
actual interval to be traversed, under average circumstances,
of 231920 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
1000 feet, left below us about one-thirtieth of the
entire mass of atmospheric air—that at 10600, we
have ascended through nearly one-third—and that
at 18000, which is not far from the elevation of
Cotopaxi, we have surmounted one-half of 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
25000 feet, attained in the aeronautic expedition of
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 stated 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—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 or
perturbations 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 elipse
is growing shorter, in a slow but perfectly regular
the case, if we suppose a resistance experienced by
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 its 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 upwards, 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 outwards, beyond the orbit of Venus at least,
and I believed indefinitely farther.[2] Indeed, this
the comet's elipse, or 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 in 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
quantities for the purpose 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 purposes intended, and
I 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
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 an 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 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 a 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 still, 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 power of the earth's attraction would be superseded
by the moon's. In accordance with these
ideas, I did not think it worth while to encumber
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 purpose of a
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
of respiration. In a word, I conceived that, as the
body should become habituated to the want of
atmospheric pressure, these sensations of pain would
gradually diminish, and to endure them while they
continued, I relied strongly 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 human kind.
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
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 is 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 spyglass,
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
within 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 rencontre, 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.
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
then have 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.
I was now rising rapidly, and by seven o'clock
the barometer indicated an altitude of no less than
nine miles and a half. I began to find great difficulty
in drawing my breath. My head too was excessively
painful; and, having felt for some time a moisture
blood, which was oozing quite fast from the drums
of my ears. My eyes, also, gave me great uneasiness.
Upon passing the hand over them they seemed to
have protruded from their sockets in no inconsiderable
degree, and all objects in the car, and even the
balloon itself, appeared distorted to my vision. These
symptoms were more than I had expected, and occasioned
me some alarm. At this juncture, very
imprudently, and without consideration, I threw out
from the car three five-pound pieces of ballast. The
accelerated rate of ascent thus obtained carried me
too rapidly, and without sufficient gradation, into a
highly rarefied stratum of the atmosphere, and the
result had nearly proved fatal to my expedition and
to myself. I was suddenly seized with a spasm
which lasted for better than five minutes, and even
when this, in a measure, ceased, I could catch my
breath only at long intervals, and in a gasping manner—bleeding
all the while copiously at the nose
and ears, and even slightly at the eyes. The pigeons
appeared distressed in the extreme, and struggled to
escape; while the cat mewed piteously, and, with her
tongue hanging out of her mouth, staggered to and
fro in the car as if under the influence of poison. I
now too late discovered the great rashness I had
been guilty of in discharging the ballast, and my
agitation was excessive. I anticipated nothing less
than death, and death in a few minutes. The physical
suffering I underwent contributed also to render
me nearly incapable of making any exertion for the
reflection left, and the violence of the pain in my
head seemed to be greatly on the increase. Thus I
found that my senses would shortly give way altogether,
and I had already clutched one of the valve
ropes with the view of attempting a descent, when
the recollection of the trick I had played the three
creditors, and the inevitable consequences to myself,
should I return to Rotterdam, operated to deter me
for the moment. I lay down in the bottom of the
car, and endeavored to collect my faculties. In this
I so far succeeded as to determine upon the experiment
of losing blood. Having no lancet, however, I
was constrained to perform the operation in the best
manner I was able, and finally succeeded in opening
a vein in my right arm, with the blade of my pen-knife.
The blood had hardly commenced flowing
when I experienced a sensible relief, and by the time
I had lost about half a moderate basin full, most of
the worst symptoms had abandoned me entirely. I
nevertheless did not think it expedient to attempt
getting on my feet immediately; but, having tied up
my arm as well as I could, I lay still for about a
quarter of an hour. At the end of this time I arose,
and found myself freer from absolute pain of any
kind than I had been during the last hour and a
quarter of my ascension. The difficulty of breathing,
however, was diminished in a very slight
degree, and I found that it would soon be positively
necessary to make use of my condenser. In the
meantime looking towards the cat, who was again
my infinite surprise, that she had taken the opportunity
of my indisposition to bring into light a litter of three
little kittens. This was an addition to the number of
passengers on my part altogether unexpected; but I
was pleased at the occurrence. It would afford me
a chance of bringing to a kind of test the truth of a
surmise, which, more than anything else, had
influenced me in attempting this ascension. I had
imagined that the habitual endurance of the atmospheric
pressure at the surface of the earth was the
cause, or nearly so, of the pain attending animal
existence at a distance above the surface. Should
the kittens be found to suffer uneasiness in an equal
degree with their mother, I must consider my theory
in fault, but a failure to do so I should look upon as
a strong confirmation of my idea.
By eight o'clock I had actually attained an elevation
of seventeen miles above the surface of the earth.
Thus it seemed to me evident that my rate of ascent
was not only on the increase, but that the progression
would have been apparent in a slight degree even
had I not discharged the ballast which I did. The
pains in my head and ears returned, at intervals,
with violence, and I still continued to bleed occasionally
at the nose: but, upon the whole, I suffered
much less than might have been expected. I breathed,
however, at every moment, with more and more
difficulty, and each inhalation was attended with a
troublesome spasmodic action of the chest. I now
unpacked the condensing apparatus, and got it ready
period of my ascension, was beautiful indeed. To
the westward, the northward, and the southward, as
far as I could see, lay a boundless sheet of apparently
unruffled ocean, which every moment gained a deeper
and a deeper tint of blue, and began already to
assume a slight appearance of convexity. At a vast
distance to the eastward, although perfectly discernible,
extended the islands of Great Britain, the entire
Atlantic coasts of France and Spain, with a small
portion of the northern part of the continent of Africa.
Of individual edifices not a trace could be discovered,
and the proudest cities of mankind had utterly faded
away from the face of the earth. From the rock of
Gibraltar, now dwindled into a dim speck, the dark
Mediterranean sea, dotted with shining islands as the
heaven is dotted with stars, spread itself out to the
eastward as far as my vision extended, until its
entire mass of waters seemed at length to tumble
headlong over the abyss of the horizon, and I found
myself listening on tiptoe for the echoes of the mighty
cataract. Overhead, the sky was of a jetty black,
and the stars were brilliantly visible.
The pigeons about this time seeming to undergo
much suffering, I determined upon giving them their
liberty. I first untied one of them—a beautiful
gray-mottled pigeon—and placed him upon the rim
of the wicker-work. He appeared extremely uneasy,
looking anxiously around him, fluttering his wings,
and making a loud cooing noise—but could not be
persuaded to trust himself from off the car. I took
yards from the balloon. He made, however, no
attempt to descend as I had expected, but struggled
with great vehemence to get back, uttering at the
same time very shrill and piercing cries. He at
length succeeded in regaining his former station on
the rim—but had hardly done so when his head
dropped upon his breast, and he fell dead within the
car. The other one did- not prove so unfortunate.
To prevent his following the example of his companion,
and accomplishing a return, I threw him
downwards with all my force, and was pleased to
find him continue his descent, with great velocity,
making use of his wings with ease, and in a perfectly
natural manner. In a very short time he was out of
sight, and I have no doubt he reached home in
safety. Puss, who seemed in a great measure recovered
from her illness, now made a hearty meal of
the dead bird, and then went to sleep with much
apparent satisfaction. Her kittens were quite lively,
and so far evinced not the slightest sign of any
uneasiness whatever.
At a quarter-past eight, being able no longer to
draw breath at all without the most intolerable pain,
I proceeded, forthwith, to adjust around the car the
apparatus belonging to the condenser. This apparatus
will require some little explanation, and your
Excellencies will please to bear in mind that my
object, in the first place, was to surround myself
and car entirely with a barricade against the highly
rarefied atmosphere in which I was existing—with
the intention of introducing within this barricade, by
sufficiently condensed for the purposes of
respiration. With this object in view I had prepared
a very strong, perfectly air-tight, but flexible gumelastic
bag. In this bag, which was of sufficient
dimensions, the entire car was in a manner placed.
That is to say, it (the bag) was drawn over the
whole bottom of the car—up its sides—and so on,
along the outside of the ropes, to the upper rim or
hoop where the net-work is attached. Having pulled
the bag up in this way, and formed a complete enclosure
on all sides, and at bottom, it was now
necessary to fasten up its top or mouth, by passing
its material over the hoop of the net-work—in other
words between the net-work and the hoop. But if
the net-work was separated from the hoop to admit
this passage, what was to sustain the car in the
meantime? Now the net-work was not permanently
fastened to the hoop, but attached by a series of
running loops or nooses. I therefore undid only a
few of these loops at one time, leaving the car suspended
by the remainder. Having thus inserted a
portion of the cloth forming the upper part of the
bag, I refastened the loops—not to the hoop, for
that would have been impossible, since the cloth now
intervened,—but to a series of large buttons, affixed
to the cloth itself, about three feet below the mouth
of the bag—the intervals between the buttons having
been made to correspond to the intervals between
the loops. This done, a few more of the
loops were unfastened from the rim, a farther portion
then connected with their proper buttons. In this
way it was possible to insert the whole upper part
of the bag between the net-work and the hoop. It
is evident that the hoop would now drop down within
the car, while the whole weight of the car itself,
with all its contents, would be held up merely by the
strength of the buttons. This, at first sight, would
seem an inadequate dependence, but it was by no
means so, for the buttons were not only very strong
in themselves, but so close together that a very
slight portion of the whole weight was supported by
any one of them. Indeed, had the car and contents
been three times heavier than they were, I should not
have been at all uneasy. I now raised up the hoop
again within the covering of gum-elastic, and propped
it at nearly its former height by means of three
light poles prepared for the occasion. This was
done, of course, to keep the bag distended at the top,
and to preserve the lower part of the net-work in its
proper situation. All that now remained was to
fasten up the mouth of the enclosure; and this was
readily accomplished by gathering the folds of the
material together, and twisting them up very tightly
on the inside by means of a kind of stationary tourniquet.
In the sides of the covering thus adjusted round
the car, had been inserted three circular panes of
thick but clear glass, through which I could see
without difficulty around me in every horizontal
direction. In that portion of the cloth forming the
kind, and corresponding with a small aperture in the
floor of the car itself. This enabled me to see perpendicularly
down, but having found it impossible to
place any similar contrivance overhead, on account
of the peculiar manner of closing up the opening
there, and the consequent wrinkles in the cloth, I
could expect to see no objects situated directly in my
zenith. This, of course, was a matter of little consequence—for,
had I even been able to place a
window at top, the balloon itself would have prevented
my making any use of it.
About a foot below one of the side windows was
a circular opening eight inches in diameter, and
fitted with a brass rim adapted in its inner edge to
the windings of a screw. In this rim was screwed
the large tube of the condenser, the body of the
machine being, of course, within the chamber of
gum-elastic. Through this tube a quantity of the
rare atmosphere circumjacent being drawn by means
of a vacuum created in the body of the machine,
was thence discharged in a state of condensation to
mingle with the thin air already in the chamber.
This operation, being repeated several times, at
length filled the chamber with atmosphere proper for
all the purposes of respiration. But in so confined a
space it would in a short time necessarily become
foul, and unfit for use from frequent contact with the
lungs. It was then ejected by a small valve at the
bottom of the car—the dense air readily sinking
into the thinner atmosphere below. To avoid the
moment within the chamber, this purification was
never accomplished all at once, but in a gradual
manner,—the valve being opened only for a few
seconds, then closed again, until one or two strokes
from the pump of the condenser had supplied the
place of the atmosphere ejected. For the sake of
experiment I had put the cat and kittens in a small
basket, and suspended it outside the car to a button
at the bottom, close by the valve, through which I
could feed them at any moment when necessary. I
did this at some little risk, and before closing the
mouth of the chamber, by reaching under the car
with one of the poles before-mentioned to which a
hook had been attached.
By the time I had fully completed these arrangements
and filled the chamber as explained, it wanted
only ten minutes of nine o'clock. During the whole
period of my being thus employed I endured the
most terrible distress from difficulty of respiration,
and bitterly did I repent the negligence, or rather
fool-hardiness, of which I had been guilty in putting
off to the very last moment a matter of so much
importance. But having at length accomplished it,
I soon began to reap the benefit of my invention.
Once again I breathed with perfect freedom and
ease—and indeed why should I not? I was also
agreeably surprised to find myself, in a great measure,
relieved from the violent pains which had hitherto
tormented me. A slight headache, accompanied with
a sensation of fulness or distention about the wrists,
had now to complain. Thus it seemed evident that
a greater part of the uneasiness attending the removal
of atmospheric pressure had actually worn off,
as I had expected, and that much of the pain endured
for the last two hours should have been
attributed altogether to the effects of a deficient respiration.
At twenty minutes before nine o'clock—that is
to say—a short time prior to my closing up the
mouth of the chamber, the mercury attained its limit,
or ran down, in the barometer, which, as I mentioned
before, was one of an extended construction.
It then indicated an altitude on my part of 132000
feet, or five-and-twenty miles, and I consequently
surveyed at that time an extent of the earth's area
amounting to no less than the three-hundred-and-twentieth
part of its entire superficies. At nine
o'clock I had again entirely lost sight of land to the
eastward, but not before I became fully aware that
the balloon was drifting rapidly to the N.N.W. The
convexity of the ocean beneath me was very evident
indeed—although my view was often interrupted
by the masses of cloud which floated to and fro. I
observed now that even the lightest vapors never
rose to more than ten miles above the level of the
sea.
At half-past nine I tried the experiment of throwing
out a handful of feathers through the valve.
They did not float as I had expected—but dropped
down perpendicularly, like a bullet, en masse, and
very few seconds. I did not at first know what to
make of this extraordinary phenomenon: not being
able to believe that my rate of ascent had, of a
sudden, met with so prodigious an acceleration.
But it soon occurred to me that the atmosphere was
now far too rare to sustain even the feathers—that
they actually fell, as they appeared to do, with great
rapidity—and that I had been surprised by the
united velocities of their descent and my own elevation.
By ten o'clock I found that I had very little to
occupy my immediate attention. Affairs went on
swimmingly, and I believed the balloon to be going
upwards with a speed increasing momently, although
I had no longer any means of ascertaining
the progression of the increase. I suffered no pain
or uneasiness of any kind, and enjoyed better spirits
than I had at any period since my departure from
Rotterdam, busying myself now in examining the
state of my various apparatus, and now in regenerating
the atmosphere within the chamber. This latter
point I determined to attend to at regular intervals
of forty minutes, more on account of the preservation
of my health, than from so frequent a renovation
being absolutely necessary. In the meanwhile I
could not help making anticipations. Fancy revelled
in the wild and dreamy regions of the moon. Imagination,
feeling herself for once unshackled,
roamed at will among the ever-changing wonders
of a shadowy and unstable land. Now there were
and waterfalls tumbling with a loud noise into
abysses without a bottom. Then I came suddenly
into still noonday solitudes where no wind of heaven
ever intruded, and where vast meadows of poppies,
and slender, lily-looking flowers spread themselves
out a weary distance, all silent and motionless forever.
Then again I journeyed far down away into
another country where it was all one dim and vague
lake, with a boundary-line of clouds. And out of
this melancholy water arose a forest of tall eastern
trees, like a wilderness of dreams. And I bore in
mind that the shadows of the trees which fell upon
the lake remained not on the surface where they
fell—but sunk slowly and steadily down, and commingled
with the waves, while from the trunks of
the trees other shadows were continually coming
out, and taking the place of their brothers thus entombed.
“This, then,” I said thoughtfully, “is the
very reason why the waters of this lake grow blacker
with age, and more melancholy as the hours run
on.” But fancies such as these were not the sole
possessors of my brain. Horrors of a nature most
stern and most appalling would too frequently obtrude
themselves upon my mind, and shake the
innermost depths of my soul with the bare supposition
of their possibility. Yet I would not suffer my
thoughts for any length of time to dwell upon these
latter speculations, rightly judging the real and palpable
dangers of the voyage sufficient for my undivided
attention.
At five o'clock P.M., being engaged in regenerating
the atmosphere within the chamber, I took that
opportunity of observing the cat and kittens through
the valve. The cat herself appeared to suffer again
very much, and I had no hesitation in attributing her
uneasiness chiefly to a difficulty in breathing—but
my experiment with the kittens had resulted very
strangely. I had expected of course to see them
betray a sense of pain, although in a less degree than
their mother; and this would have been sufficient to
confirm my opinion concerning the habitual endurance
of atmospheric pressure. But I was not prepared to
find them, upon close examination, evidently enjoying
a high degree of health, breathing with the greatest
ease and perfect regularity, and evincing not the
slightest sign of any uneasiness whatever. I could
only account for all this by extending my theory, and
supposing that the highly rarefied atmosphere around
might perhaps not be, as I had taken for granted,
chemically insufficient for the purposes of life, and
that a person born in such a medium might possibly
be unaware of any inconvenience attending its inhalation,
while, upon removal to the denser strata near
the earth, he might endure tortures of a similar nature
to those I had so lately experienced. It has since
been to me a matter of deep regret that an awkward
accident at this time occasioned me the loss of my
little family of cats, and deprived me of the insight
into this matter which a continued experiment might
have afforded. In passing my hand through the valve
with a cup of water for the old puss, the sleeve of my
the basket, and thus, in a moment, loosened it from
the button. Had the whole actually vanished into
air it could not have shot from my sight in a more
abrupt and instantaneous manner. Positively there
could not have intervened the tenth part of a second
between the disengagement of the basket and its absolute
and total disappearance with all that it contained.
My good wishes followed it to the earth, but,
of course, I had no hope that either cat or kittens
would over live to tell the tale of their misfortune.
At six o'clock I perceived a great portion of the
earth's visible area to the eastward involved in thick
shadow, which continued to advance with great
rapidity until, at five minutes before seven, the whole
surface in view was enveloped in the darkness of
night. It was not, however, until long after this time
that the rays of the setting sun ceased to illumine the
balloon; and this circumstance, although of course
fully anticipated, did not fail to give me an infinite
deal of pleasure. It was evident that, in the morning,
I should behold the rising luminary many hours at
least before the citizens of Rotterdam, in spite of their
situation so much farther to the eastward, and thus,
day after day, in proportion to the height ascended,
would I enjoy the light of the sun for a longer and a
longer period. I now determined to keep a journal
of my passage, reckoning the days from one to
twenty-four hours continuously, without taking into
consideration the intervals of darkness.
At ten o'clock, feeling sleepy, I determined to lie
presented itself, which, obvious as it may appear, had
totally escaped my attention up to the very moment
of which I am now speaking. If I went to sleep as
I proposed, how could the atmosphere in the chamber
be regenerated in the interim? To breathe it for
more than an hour, at the farthest, would be a matter
of impossibility; or if even this term could be extended
to an hour and a quarter, the most ruinous
consequences might ensue. The consideration of
this dilemma gave me no little disquietude, and it will
hardly be believed that, after the dangers I had
undergone, I should look upon this business in so serious
a light, as to give up all hope of accomplishing
my ultimate design, and finally make up my mind to
the necessity of a descent. But this hesitation was
only momentary. I reflected that man is the veriest
slave of custom—and that many points in the routine
of his existence are deemed essentially important,
which are only so at all by his having rendered them
habitual. It was very certain that I could not do
without sleep—but I might easily bring myself to
feel no inconvenience from being awakened at regular
intervals of an hour during the whole period of my
repose. It would require but five minutes at most,
to regenerate the atmosphere in the fullest manner,
and the only real difficulty was to contrive a method
of arousing myself at the proper moment for so doing.
But this was a question which, I am willing to confess,
occasioned me no little trouble in its solution. To be
sure, I had heard of the student who, to prevent his
of copper, the din of whose descent into a basin of
the same metal on the floor beside his chair, served
effectually to startle him up, if, at any moment, he
should be overcome with drowsiness. My own case,
however, was very different indeed, and left me no
room for any similar idea—for I did not wish to keep
awake, but to be aroused from slumber at regular intervals
of time. I at length hit upon the following
expedient, which, simple as it may seem, was hailed
by me, at the moment of discovery, as an invention
fully equal to that of the telescope, the steam-engine,
or the art of printing itself.
It is necessary to premise that the balloon, at the
elevation now attained, continued its course upwards
with an even and undeviating ascent, and the car
consequently followed with a steadiness so perfect
that it would have been impossible to detect in it the
slightest vacillation whatever. This circumstance
favored me greatly in the project I now determined
to adopt. My supply of water had been put on board
in kegs containing five gallons each, and ranged
very securely around the interior of the car. I unfastened
one of these—took two ropes, and tied them
tightly across the rim of the wicker-work from one
side to the other, placing them about a foot apart
and parallel, so as to form a kind of shelf, upon which
I placed the keg and steadied it in a horizontal position.
About eight inches immediately below these
ropes, and four feet from the bottom of the car, I
fastened another shelf—but made of thin plank,
this latter shelf, and exactly beneath one of the rims
of the keg a small earthen pitcher was deposited. I
now bored a hole in the end of the keg over the
pitcher, and fitted in a plug of soft wood, cut in a
tapering or conical shape. This plug I pushed in or
pulled out, as might happen, until, after a few experiments,
it arrived at that exact degree of tightness, at
which the water, oozing from the hole, and falling into
the pitcher below, should fill the latter to the brim in
the period of sixty minutes. This, of course, was a
matter briefly and easily ascertained by noticing the
proportion of the pitcher filled in any given time.
Having arranged all this, the rest of the plan is obvious.
My bed was so contrived upon the floor of
the car, as to bring my head, in lying down, immediately
below the mouth of the pitcher. It was evident,
that, at the expiration of an hour, the pitcher,
getting full, would be forced to run over, and to run
over at the mouth, which was somewhat lower than
the rim. It was also evident, that the water, thus
falling from a height of better than four feet, could
not do otherwise than fall upon my face, and that
the sure consequence would be, to waken me up
instantaneously, even from the soundest slumber in the
world.
It was fully eleven by the time I had completed
these arrangements, and I immediately betook myself
to bed with full confidence in the efficiency of my
invention. Nor in this matter was I disappointed.
Punctually every sixty minutes was I aroused by my
into the bung-hole of the keg, and performed the duties
of the condenser, I retired again to bed. These
regular interruptions to my slumber caused me even
less discomfort than I had anticipated, and when I
finally arose for the day it was seven o'clock, and
the sun had attained many degrees above the line of
my horizon.
April 3d. I found the balloon at an immense
height indeed, and the earth's apparent convexity
increased in a material degree. Below me in the
ocean lay a cluster of black specks, which undoubtedly
were islands. Far away to the northward I perceived
a thin, white, and exceedingly brilliant line or
streak on the edge of the horizon, and I had no hesitation
in supposing it to be the southern disk of the
ices of the Polar sea. My curiosity was greatly
excited, for I had hopes of passing on much farther
to the north, and might possibly, at some period, find
myself placed directly above the Pole itself. I now
lamented that my great elevation would, in this case,
prevent my taking as accurate a survey as I could
wish. Much however might be ascertained. Nothing
else of an extraordinary nature occurred during
the day. My apparatus all continued in good order,
and the balloon still ascended without any perceptible
vacillation. The cold was intense, and obliged me
to wrap up closely in an overcoat. When darkness
came over the earth, I betook myself to bed, although
it was for many hours afterwards broad daylight all
around my immediate situation. The water-clock
soundly—with the exception of the periodical
interruption.
April 4th. Arose in good health and spirits, and
was astonished at the singular change which had
taken place in the appearance of the sea. It had lost,
in a great measure, the deep tint of blue it had hitherto
worn, being now of a grayish-white, and of a lustre
dazzling to the eye. The islands were no longer
visible—whether they had passed down the horizon
to the south-east, or whether my increasing elevation
had left them out of sight, it is impossible to say. I
was inclined however, to the latter opinion. The
rim of ice to the northward, was growing more and
more apparent. Cold by no means so intense. Nothing
of importance occurred, and I passed the day
in reading—having taken care to supply myself with
books.
April 5th. Beheld the singular phenomenon of
the sun rising while nearly the whole visible surface
of the earth continued to be involved in darkness.
In time, however, the light spread itself over all, and
I again saw the line of ice to the northward. It was
now very distinct, and appeared of a much darker
hue than the waters of the ocean. I was evidently
aproaching it, and with great rapidity. Fancied I
could again distinguish a strip of land to the eastward
—and one also to the westward—but could not be
certain. Weather moderate. Nothing of any consequence
happened during the day. Went early to
bed.
April 6th. Was surprised at finding the rim of
ice at a very moderate distance, and an immense field
of the same material stretching away off to the horizon
in the north. It was evident that if the balloon held
its present course, it would soon arrive above the
Frozen Ocean, and I had now little doubt of ultimately
seeing the Pole. During the whole of the day I
continued to near the ice. Towards night the limits
of my horizon very suddenly and materially increased,
owing undoubtedly to the earth's form being that of
an oblate spheroid, and my arriving above the flattened
regions in the vicinity of the Arctic circle.
When darkness at length overtook me I went to bed
in great anxiety, fearing to pass over the object of so
much curiosity when I should have no opportunity of
observing it.
April 7th. Arose early, and, to my great joy, at
length beheld what there could be no hesitation in
supposing the northern Pole itself. It was there, beyond
a doubt, and immediately beneath my feet—
but, alas! I had now ascended to so vast a distance
that nothing could with accuracy be discerned. Indeed,
to judge from the progression of the numbers
indicating my various altitudes respectively at different
periods, between six A.M. on the second of April, and
twenty minutes before nine A.M. of the same day, (at
which time the barometer ran down,) it might be
fairly inferred that the balloon had now, at four
o'clock in the morning of April the seventh, reached
a height of not less certainly than 7254 miles above
the surface of the sea. This elevation may appear
gave a result in all probability far inferior to the truth.
At all events I undoubtedly beheld the whole of the
earth's major diameter—the entire northern hemisphere
lay beneath me like a chart orthographically
projected—and the great circle of the equator itself
formed the boundary line of my horizon. Your Excellencies
may, however, readily imagine that the
confined regions hitherto unexplored within the limits
of the Arctic circle, although situated directly beneath
me, and therefore seen without any appearance of
being foreshortened, were still, in themselves, comparatively
too diminutive, and at too great a distance
from the point of sight to admit of any very accurate
examination. Nevertheless what could be seen was
of a nature singular and exciting. Northwardly from
that huge rim before mentioned, and which, with slight
qualification, may be called the limit of human discovery
in these regions, one unbroken, or nearly unbroken
sheet of ice continues to extend. In the first
few degrees of this its progress, its surface is very
sensibly flattened—farther on depressed into a plane
—and finally, becoming not a little concave, it terminates
at the Pole itself in a circular centre, sharply
defined, whose apparent diameter subtended at the
balloon an angle of about sixty-five seconds, and
whose dusky hue, varying in intensity, was, at all
times darker than any other spot upon the visible
hemisphere, and occasionally deepened into the most
absolute and impenetrable blackness. Farther than
this little could be ascertained. By twelve o'clock
and by seven P.M. I lost sight of it entirely
—the balloon passing over the western limb of the
ice, and floating away rapidly in the direction of the
equator.
April 8th. Found a sensible diminution in the
earth's apparent diameter, besides a material alteration
in its general color and appearance. The whole
visible area partook in different degrees of a tint of
pale yellow, and in some portions had acquired a
brilliancy even painful to the eye. My view downwards
was also considerably impeded by the dense
atmosphere in the vicinity of the surface being loaded
with clouds, between whose masses I could only now
and then obtain a glimpse of the earth itself. This
difficulty of direct vision had troubled me more or less
for the last forty-eight hours—but my present enormous
elevation brought closer together, as it were,
the floating bodies of vapor, and the inconvenience
became, of course, more and more palpable in proportion
to my ascent. Nevertheless I could easily
perceive that the balloon now hovered above the
range of great lakes in the continent of North America,
and was holding a course due south which
would soon bring me to the tropics. This circumstance
did not fail to give me the most heartfelt
satisfaction, and I hailed it as a happy omen of ultimate
success. Indeed the direction I had hitherto
taken had filled me with uneasiness; for it was evident
that, had I continued it much longer, there would
have been no possibility of my arriving at the moon
the small angle of 5 ° 8′ 48″.
April 9th. To-day, the earth's diameter was
greatly diminished, and the color of the surface assumed
hourly a deeper tint of yellow. The balloon
kept steadily on her course to the southward, and
arrived at nine P.M. over the northern edge of the
Mexican Gulf.
April 10th. I was suddenly aroused from slumber,
about five o'clock this morning, by a loud, crackling,
and terrific sound, for which I could in no manner
account. It was of very brief duration, but, while it
lasted, resembled nothing in the world of which I had
any previous experience. It is needless to say that
I became excessively alarmed, having, in the first
instance, attributed the noise to the bursting of the
balloon. I examined all my apparatus, however,
with great attention, and could discover nothing out
of order. Spent a great part of the day in meditating
upon an occurrence so extraordinary, but could find
no means whatever of accounting for it. Went to
bed dissatisfied, and in a state of great anxiety and
agitation.
April 11th. Found a startling diminution in the
apparent diameter of the earth, and a considerable
increase, now observable for the first time, in that of
the moon itself, which wanted only a few days of
being full. It now required long and excessive labor
to condense within the chamber sufficient atmospheric
air for the sustenance of life.
April 12th. A singular alteration took place in
fully anticipated, afforded me the most unequivocal
delight. Having reached, in its former course, about
the twentieth parallel of southern latitude, it turned
off suddenly at an acute angle to the eastward, and
thus proceeded throughout the day, keeping nearly,
if not altogether, in the exact plane of the lunar elipse.
What was worthy of remark, a very perceptible vacillation
in the car was a consequence of this change of
route—a vacillation which prevailed, in a more or
less degree, for a period of many hours.
April 13th. Was again very much alarmed by a
repetition of the loud crackling noise which terrified
me on the tenth. Thought long upon the subject,
but was unable to form any satisfactory conclusion.
Great decrease in the earth's apparent diameter,
which now subtended from the balloon an angle
of very little more than twenty-five degrees. The
moon could not be seen at all, being nearly in my
zenith. I still continued in the plane of the elipse,
but made little progress to the eastward.
April 14th. Extremely rapid decrease in the
diameter of the earth. To-day I became strongly
impressed with the idea, that the balloon was now
actually running up the line of apsides to the point of
perigee—in other words, holding the direct course
which would bring it immediately to the moon in
that part of its orbit the nearest to the earth. The
moon itself was directly over-head, and consequently
hidden from my view. Great and long continued
April 15th. Not even the outlines of continents
and seas could now be traced upon the earth with
anything approaching to distinctness. About twelve
o'clock I became aware, for the third time, of that
unearthly and appalling sound which had so astonished
me before. It now, however, continued for some
moments and gathered horrible intensity as it continued.
At length, while stupified and terror-stricken
I stood in expectation of I know not what hideous
destruction, the car vibrated with excessive violence,
and a gigantic and flaming mass of some material
which I could not distinguish, came with a voice of
a thousand thunders, roaring and booming by the
balloon. When my fears and astonishment had in
some degree subsided, I had little difficulty in supposing
it to be some mighty volcanic fragment ejected
from that world to which I was so rapidly approaching,
and, in all probability, one of that singular class
of substances occasionally picked up on the earth
and termed meteoric stones for want of a better
appellation.
April 16th. To-day, looking upwards as well I
could, through each of the side windows alternately,
I beheld, to my great delight, a very small portion of
the moon's disk protruding, as it were, on all sides
beyond the huge circumference of the balloon. My
agitation was extreme—for I had now little doubt
of soon reaching the end of my perilous voyage. Indeed
the labor now required by the condenser had
me scarcely any respite from exertion. Sleep was
a matter nearly out of the question. I became quite
ill, and my frame trembled with exhaustion. It was
impossible that human nature could endure this state
of intense suffering much longer. During the now
brief interval of darkness a meteoric stone again
passed in my vicinity, and the frequency of these
phenomena began to occasion me much anxiety and
apprehension.
April 17th. This morning proved an epoch in
my voyage. It will be remembered that, on the
thirteenth, the earth subtended an angular breadth of
twenty-five degrees. On the fourteenth, this had
greatly diminished—on the fifteenth, a still more
rapid decrease was observable—and on retiring for
the night of the sixteenth I had noticed an angle of
no more than about seven degrees and fifteen minutes.
What, therefore, must have been my amazement on
awakening from a brief and disturbed slumber on the
morning of this day, the seventeenth, at finding the
surface beneath me so suddenly and wonderfully
augmented in volume as to subtend no less than
thirty-nine degrees in apparent angular diameter! I
was thunderstruck. No words—no earthly expression
can give any adequate idea of the extreme—
the absolute horror and astonishment with which I
was seized, possessed, and altogether overwhelmed.
My knees tottered beneath me—my teeth chattered
—my hair started up on end. “The balloon then
had actually burst”—these were the first tumultuous
had positively burst. I was falling—falling—
falling—with the most intense, the most impetuous,
the most unparalleled velocity. To judge from the
immense distance already so quickly passed over, it
could not be more than ten minutes, at the farthest,
before I should meet the surface of the earth, and be
hurled into annihilation.” But at length reflection
came to my relief. I paused—I considered—and
I began to doubt. The matter was impossible. I
could not in any reason have so rapidly come down.
Besides, although I was evidently approaching the
surface below me, it was with a speed by no means
commensurate with the velocity I had at first so horribly
conceived. This consideration served to calm
the perturbation of my mind, and I finally succeeded
in regarding the phenomenon in its proper point of
view. In fact amazement must have fairly deprived
me of my senses when I could not see the vast difference,
in appearance, between the surface below
me, and the surface of my mother earth. The latter
was indeed over my head, and completely hidden by
the balloon, while the moon—the moon itself in all
its glory—lay beneath me, and at my feet.
The stupor and surprise produced in my mind by
this extraordinary change in the posture of affairs
was perhaps, after all, that part of the adventure least
susceptible of explanation. For the bouleversement
in itself was not only natural and inevitable, but had
been long actually anticipated as a circumstance to
be expected whenever I should arrive at that exact
should be superseded by the attraction of the satellite
—or, more precisely, where the gravitation of the
balloon towards the earth should be less powerful
than its gravitation towards the moon. To be sure
I arose from a sound slumber, with all my senses in
confusion, to the contemplation of a very startling
phenomenon, and one which, although expected, was
not expected at the moment. The revolution itself
must, of course, have taken place in an easy and
gradual manner, and it is by no means clear that,
had I even been awake at the time of the occurrence,
I should have been made aware of it by any internal
evidence of an inversion—that is to say by any inconvenience
or disarrangement either about my person
or about my apparatus.
It is almost needless to say that upon coming to a
due sense of my situation, and emerging from the
terror which had absorbed every faculty of my soul,
my attention was, in the first place, wholly directed
to the contemplation of the general physical appearance
of the moon. It lay beneath me like a chart,
and although I judged it to be still at no inconsiderable
distance, the indentures of its surface were defined
to my vision with a most striking and altogether unaccountable
distinctness. The entire absence of
ocean or sea, and indeed of any lake or river, or
body of water whatsoever, struck me, at the first
glance, as the most extraordinary feature in its
geological condition. Yet, strange to say! I beheld
vast level regions of a character decidedly alluvial
in sight was covered with innumerable volcanic
mountains, conical in shape, and having more the appearance
of artificial than of natural protuberances.
The highest among them does not exceed three and
three-quarter miles in perpendicular elevation—but
a map of the volcanic districts of the Campi Phlegræi
would afford to your Excellencies a better idea
of their general surface than any unworthy description
I might think proper to attempt. The greater
part of them were in a state of evident eruption, and
gave me fearfully to understand their fury and their
power by the repeated thunders of the miscalled
meteoric stones which now rushed upwards by the
balloon with a frequency more and more appalling.
April 18th. To-day I found an enormous increase
in the moon's apparent bulk, and the evidently accelerated
velocity of my descent began to fill me with
alarm. It will be remembered that, in the earliest
stage of my speculations upon the possibility of a
passage to the moon, the existence in its vicinity of
an atmosphere dense in proportion to the bulk of the
planet had entered largely into my calculations—
this too in spite of many theories to the contrary,
and, it may be added, in spite of a general disbelief
in the existence of any lunar atmosphere at all.
But, in addition to what I have already urged in
regard to Encke's comet and the zodiacal light, I
had been strengthened in my opinion by certain observations
of Mr. Schroeter, of Lilienthal. He observed
the moon, when two days and a half old, in
was visible, and continued to watch it until it became
visible. The two cusps appeared tapering in a very
sharp faint prolongation, each exhibiting its farthest
extremity faintly illuminated by the solar rays, before
any part of the dark hemisphere was visible. Soon
afterwards, the whole dark limb became illuminated.
This prolongation of the cusps beyond the semicircle,
I thought, must have arisen from the refraction of the
sun's rays by the moon's atmosphere. I computed,
also, the height of the atmosphere (which could refract
light enough into its dark hemisphere, to produce
a twilight more luminous than the light reflected
from the earth when the moon is about 32 ° from the
new) to be 1356 Paris feet; in this view, I supposed
the greatest height capable of refracting the solar ray,
to be 5376 feet. My ideas upon this topic had also
received confirmation by a passage in the 82d volume
of the Philosophical Transactions, in which it is
stated that at an occultation of Jupiter's satellites, the
third disappeared after having been about 1″ or 2″
of time indistinct, and the fourth became indiscernible
near the limb.[4]
Upon the resistance, or more properly, upon the
support of an atmosphere, existing in the state of
density imagined, I had, of course, entirely depended
for the safety of my ultimate descent. Should I then,
after all, prove to have been mistaken, I had in consequence
nothing better to expect as a finale to my
adventure than being dashed into atoms against the
rugged surface of the satellite. And indeed I had
now every reason to be terrified. My distance from
the moon was comparatively trifling, while the labor
required by the condenser was diminished not at all,
and I could discover no indication whatever of a decreasing
rarity in the air.
April 19th. This morning, to my great joy, about
nine o'clock, the surface of the moon being frightfully
near, and my apprehensions excited to the utmost,
the pump of my condenser at length gave evident
tokens of an alteration in the atmosphere. By ten I
had reason to believe its density considerably increased.
By eleven very little labor was necessary
at the apparatus—and at twelve o'clock, with some
hesitation, I ventured to unscrew the tourniquet,
I finally threw open the gum-elastic chamber, and
unrigged it from around the car. As might have
been expected, spasms and violent headache were the
immediate consequence of an experiment so precipitate
and full of danger. But these and other difficulties
attending respiration, as they were by no
means so great as to put me in peril of my life, I determined
to endure as I best could, in consideration
of my leaving them behind me momently in my
approach to the denser strata near the moon. This
approach, however, was still impetuous in the extreme;
and it soon became alarmingly certain that,
although I had probably not been deceived in the expectation
of an atmosphere dense in proportion to the
mass of the satellite, still I had been wrong in supposing
this density, even at the surface, at all adequate
to the support of the great weight contained in
the car of my balloon. Yet this should have been
the case, and in an equal degree as at the surface of
the earth, the actual gravity of bodies at either planet
being supposed in the ratio of their atmospheric condensation.
That it was not the case however my precipitous
downfall gave testimony enough—why it
was not so, can only be explained by a reference to
those possible geological disturbances to which I have
formerly alluded. At all events I was now close
upon the planet, and coming down with the most
terrible impetuosity. I lost not a moment accordingly
in throwing overboard first my ballast, then
my water-kegs, then my condensing apparatus and
article within the car. But it was all to no purpose.
I still fell with horrible rapidity, and was now not
more than half a mile at farthest from the surface.
As a last resource, therefore, having got rid of my
coat, hat, and boots, I cut loose from the balloon the
car itself, which was of no inconsiderable weight,
and thus, clinging with both hands to the hoop of the
net-work, I had barely time to observe that the whole
country as far as the eye could reach was thickly interspersed
with diminutive habitations, ere I tumbled
headlong into the very heart of a fantastical-looking
city, and into the middle of a vast crowd of ugly
little people, who none of them uttered a single
syllable, or gave themselves the least trouble to render
me assistance, but stood, like a parcel of idiots, grinning
in a ludicrous manner, and eyeing me and my
balloon askant with their arms set a-kimbo. I turned
from them in contempt, and gazing upwards at the
earth so lately left, and left perhaps forever, beheld
it like a huge, dull, copper shield, about two degrees
in diameter, fixed immoveably in the heavens overhead,
and tipped on one of its edges with a crescent
border of the most brilliant gold. No traces of land
or water could be discovered, and the whole was
clouded with variable spots, and belted with tropical
and equatorial zones.
Thus, may it please your Excellencies, after a
series of great anxieties, unheard of dangers, and
unparalleled escapes, I had, at length, on the nineteenth
day of my departure from Rotterdam, arrived
the most extraordinary, and the most momentous,
ever accomplished, undertaken, or conceived by any
denizen of earth. But my adventures yet remain to
be related. And indeed your Excellencies may well
imagine that after a residence of five years upon a
planet not only deeply interesting in its own peculiar
character, but rendered doubly so by its intimate
connection, in capacity of satellite, with the world
inhabited by man, I may have intelligence for the
private ear of the States' College of Astronomers of
far more importance than the details, however wonderful,
of the mere voyage which so happily concluded.
This is, in fact, the case. I have much—
very much which it would give me the greatest
pleasure to communicate. I have much to say of
the climate of the planet—of its wonderful alternations
of heat and cold—of unmitigated and burning
sunshine for one fortnight, and more than polar
frigidity for the next—of a constant transfer of
moisture, by distillation like that in vacuo, from
the point beneath the sun to the point the farthest
from it—of a variable zone of running water—of
the people themselves—of their manners, customs,
and political institutions—of their peculiar physical
construction—of their ugliness—of their want of
ears, those useless appendages in an atmosphere so
peculiarly modified—of their consequent ignorance
of the use and properties of speech—of their substitute
for speech in a singular method of intercommunication—of
between each particular individual in the moon, with
some particular individual on the earth—a connection
analogous with, and depending upon that of the
orbs of the planet and the satellite, and by means of
which the lives and destinies of the inhabitants of the
one are interwoven with the lives and destinies of
the inhabitants of the other—and above all, if it so
please your Excellencies, above all of those dark and
hideous mysteries which lie in the outer regions of
the moon—regions which, owing to the almost
miraculous accordance of the satellite's rotation on
its own axis with its sidereal revolution about the
earth, have never yet been turned, and, by God's
mercy, never shall be turned, to the scrutiny of the
telescopes of man. All this, and more—much more
—would I most willingly detail. But to be brief, I
must have my reward. I am pining for a return to
my family and to my home: and as the price of any
farther communications on my part—in consideration
of the light which I have it in my power to
throw upon many very important branches of physical
and metaphysical science—I must solicit,
through the influence of your honorable body, a
pardon for the crime of which I have been guilty in
the death of the creditors upon my departure from
Rotterdam. This, then, is the object of the present
paper. Its bearer, an inhabitant of the moon, whom
I have prevailed upon, and properly instructed, to be
my messenger to the earth, will await your Excellencies'
in question, if it can, in any manner, be obtained.
I have the honor to be, &c., your Excellencies'
very humble servant,
HANS PHAALL.
Upon finishing the perusal of this very extraordinary
document, Professor Rub-a-dub, it is said,
dropped his pipe upon the ground in the extremity of
his surprise, and Mynheer Superbus Von Underduik
having taken off his spectacles, wiped them, and deposited
them in his pocket, so far forgot both himself
and his dignity, as to turn round three times upon
his heel in the quintessence of astonishment and admiration.
There was no doubt about the matter—
the pardon should be obtained. So at least swore,
with a round oath, Professor Rub-a-dub, and so
finally thought the illustrious Von Underduk, as he
took the arm of his brother in science, and without
saying a word, began to make the best of his way
home to deliberate upon the measures to be adopted.
Having reached the door, however, of the burgomaster's
dwelling, the professor ventured to suggest
that as the messenger had thought proper to disappear—no
doubt frightened to death by the savage
appearance of the burghers of Rotterdam—the
pardon would be of little use, as no one but a man
of the moon would undertake a voyage to so horrible
a distance. To the truth of this observation the
burgomaster assented, and the matter was therefore
at an end. Not so, however, rumors and speculations.
The letter, having been published, gave rise
over-wise even made themselves ridiculous by decrying
the whole business as nothing better than a hoax.
But hoax, with these sort of people, is, I believe, a
general term for all matters above their comprehension.
For my part I cannot conceive upon what
data they have founded such an accusation. Let us
see what they say:
Imprimis. That certain wags in Rotterdam have
certain especial antipathies to certain burgomasters
and astronomers.
Don't understand at all.
Secondly. That an odd little dwarf and bottle
conjurer, both of whose ears, for some misdemeanor,
have been cut off close to his head, has been missing
for several days from the neighboring city of Bruges.
Well—what of that?
Thirdly. That the newspapers which were stuck
all over the little balloon were newspapers of Holland,
and therefore could not have been made in the
moon. They were dirty papers—very dirty—and
Gluck, the printer, would take his bible oath to their
having been printed in Rotterdam.
He was mistaken—undoubtedly—mistaken.
Fourthly. That Hans Phaall himself, the drunken
villain, and the three very idle gentlemen styled his
creditors, were all seen, no longer than two or three
days ago, in a tippling house in the suburbs, having
just returned, with money in their pockets, from a
trip beyond the sea.
Don't believe it—don't believe a word of it.
Lastly. That it is an opinion very generally received,
or which ought to be generally received, that
the College of Astronomers in the city of Rotterdam
—as well as all other colleges in all other parts of
the world—not to mention colleges and astronomers
in general—are, to say the least of the matter,
not a whit better, nor greater, nor wiser than they
ought to be.
The zodiacal light is probably what the ancients called
Trabes. Emicant Trabes quos docos vocant.—Pliny lib. 2,
p. 26.
Since the original publication of Hans Phaall I find that
Mr. Green, of Nassan-balloon notoriety, and other late aeronauts,
deny the assertions of Humboldt, in this respect, and
speak of a decreasing inconvenience—precisely in accordance
with the theory here urged in a mere spirit of banter.
Hevelius writes that he has several times found, in skies
perfectly clear, when even stars of the sixth and seventh magnitude
were conspicuous, that, at the same altitude of the moon,
at the same elongation from the earth, and with one and the
same excellent telescope, the moon and its maculæ did not appear
equally lucid at all times. From the circumstances of the
observation, it is evident that the cause of this phenomenon is
not either in our air, in the tube, in the moon, or in the eye of
the spectator, but must be looked for in something (an atmosphere?)
existing about the moon.
Cassini frequently observed Saturn, Jupiter, and the fixed stars,
when approaching the moon to occultation, to have their circular
figure changed into an oval one, and, in other occultations, he
found no alteration of figure at all. Hence it might be supposed
that at some times and not at others, there is a dense matter encompassing
the moon wherein the rays of the stars are refracted.
There is, strictly speaking, but little similarity between
this sketchy trifle and the very celebrated and very beautiful
“Moon-story” of Mr. Locke—but as both have the character
of hoaxes, (although the one is in a tone of banter, the other of
downright earnest,) and as both hoaxes are on the same subject,
the moon—the author of “Hans Phaall” thinks it necessary
to say, in self-defence, that his own jen-d'esprit was published,
in the Southern Literary Messenger, about three weeks previously
to the appearance of Mr. L.'s, in the New York “Sun.” Fancying
a similarity which does not really exist, some of the New
York papers copied Hans Phaall, and collated it with the Hoax
—with the view of detecting the writer of the one in the
writer of the other.
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