A Voyage'in the Paris Exhibition Captive Balloon.

Thames Star, Volume IX, Issue 3056, 30 November 1878, Page 1

A Voyage'in the Paris Exhibition Captive Balloon.

The Parisians are at the present time availiaft themselves largely of a pleasure which just now their capital alone affords, .namely, the.opportunity of quitting thii planet for a while and spending a little time in space. Every day, from halt past twelve until about seren-o'clock, crowds of people flock into the courtyard of the ruined Tuileries, and pay a franc each to enter an enclosure within which a " captive balloon " hai its habitation. The French Government, with an equal eye to its own interest and to the pleasure and instruction, of the French, citizens, has let a portion of this otherwise useless and unprofitable land at a rental of £4000 a year Xo M. Henry Giffard,, the well known French aironaut., A, piece of ground between the fire-stained and roofless walls of the Palace, of the Tuijieries and the Are dv Carrousel has .been boarded off from the rest of the square, and contains a cqfi and restaurant, without which nothing can be done in Paris, and has besides been prettily planted with shrubs, and flowers. From the middle of this space rises the jcaptire balloon, weather permitting, every half-hour between" one o'clock and sunset. It ascends from a pit or amphitheatre surrounded by steps, and into the centre of the hollow of .the car of the balloon descends, when.[the .intending voyager walks into this car along a gangway, as v though he were going on board ship. , „ ; The balloon differs from its predecessors in several, particulars. First, it is completely spherical; next, it does not part with the gas with which it has been filled; and, lastly, it is not composed of silk. The material of which, it is constructed is a composite one,' impermeable to gas, reasonably light, and nearly as tough as copper of the same thickness. It consists of no fewer than seven sheets or tissues consolidated together. The first tissue is a strong muslin, then comes * a layer of indi*rub.b^r, next, a sheet of linen, then india-rubber again, afterwards a second sheet of linen, then a coating of vulcanised, india-rubber, and over that another tissue of muslin, which is treated, with boiled linseed oil and varnished, the whole being covered with white zinc paint, with imparts to the balloon a bright metallic. lustre. The, balloon is forty yards in diameter, and, therefore over 360 feet in circumference. . The. network which ebversit baa the eoifds spliced into each other at the junctions so as to avoid knots, which might injure the fabric beneath. When once the balloon is down and securely moored to the earth it is so strongly held that a high wind produces no apparent deflection. The cable itself is three and a half inches in < diameter, and tapers gradually towards the part attached to the earth, in order to render a breakage, if one should occur, more likely at Chat end, so as to leave the balloon with 'all ihe weight of the cable as ballast, and also to serve as a guide rope in the event of the balloon getting away. The cable, which is about 650 yards in length, passes through a tunnel underneath the place' to which the balloon descends to '» gigantic windlass nineteen feet long and'fifteen feet or more in circumference ; this windlass is furrowed with channels to fit the cord, and is turned by two steam engines when the balloon has bejen ,draKge4 down. In its ascent it has of itself sufficient power to turn the windlass and work the steam engines the reverse way, jbhey,having, of course; no steam in them then. The completion and execution of the whole are due to M. Giffard, who started a captive balloon in England at Cremorne in 1869. That, however, was not a success, and the receipts for the whole period of the captive's stay in England were less that one day's earnings in Paris at the present time. The balloon of the Tuileries ascends only when there is very little wind or rain; and having selected a fine sunny afternoon I enter the enclosure and take a ticket for the ascent.. Each ticket bears' a number, and unless the visitor is successful in obtaining an early number he may have to wait from one to three hours for. bis turn to go up. My number, as it happens, is called about four o'clock, and I immediately step across, the gangway and enter the car, which is capable of holding fifty people, but usually takes about thirty. On this occasion we are twenty-seven in number,' including amongst our passengers three Japanese gentlemen in their native costume, several English, French, and Americans, and four ladies. There are, besides, two experienced aeronauts on board, who always accompany the balloon. Beneath the flooring of thecar are coils of rope, anchors, hooks, bags of ballast, and other things which might be requisite in case of the balloon slipping her cable and starting on an unpremeditated voyage through the clouds,, As 1 soon, as we have taken our places and are gazing, over the edge of the car at the multitude of spectators in the enclosure the gangway is withdrawn, the door of the car fastened with a latch, and secured with stout leather straps; the balloon then descends for an instant to slacken the holding ropes and enable the sailors to cast them off, the band plays, and immediately afterwards we see the earth apparently receding from under our feet, whilst we ourselves seem to remain perfectly stationary, and are unconscious of any movement whatever. Overhead, between us and the blue sky, hangs the huge shining ball, too near, however, for us to see as much as half of its dimensions. The earth continues to depart from us in perfect tranquility, and the squares, streets, and buildings rapidly contract in size, seeming, in fact, to get squeezed together. The line of the horizon is raised all round, the panorama increases in width, the cable itself dwindles to an almost invisible thread, sounds from below grow fainter and fainter, and only the ball overhead seems substantial

and permanent, A flight of, birds passes near the balloon, but apparently without taking any interest in it. For some time, and until we are to high to trace it any longer, we can see the shadow of the balloon, apparently with a halo of light round its edge, passing over the houses. There are ho seats in the car, and each person moves about at pleasure, examining the prospect in each direction by turns. One observed with interest and surprise ' the strange aspect of. familiar objects^ when seen from pur preeminently bird's-eye point of view. 5 The diminution in height of lofty buildings is a notable instance of this; churches, monuments, and the many structures that one isHaccustomed to regard^ as cdb> siderable elevations, such as the Pan* theon, Notre Dame* and the new Opera House, are speedily dwarfed into nothingness. On this occasion a gentle •breeze wafts us over the Rue de Rivoli? arid the. view all round is intensely interesting. The day remains perfect for the purpose, the air clear, and the sun bright. The various Boulevards can be traced along their whole extent, and beyond them the lines of the fortifications. The prospect widens in every direction, until it takes in the whole range of hills surrounding the great Paris basin. One striking feature is, of course, the Seiner which gleams like a silver ribbon, and is distinctly visible^ in all its windings, dotted with the steamers, which, even at our greatest elevation, we-can trace on its surface. We continue to rise for eleven or twelve minutes, towards the end'of which time the air becomes perceptibly clearer and colder. This is not attended with any inconvenience in the way of difficulty of breathing, singing in the ears or otherwise. An aneroid barometer attached to the cordage enables us to see at any minute the exact elevation,attained, and the movement of the hand is more rapid than that of the long hand of a clock. The height we at last reach is about 1800 feet,-or five times that of St. Paul's Cathedral, arid the various noises from the. busy world below, reach our ears even at this height. After a few minutes, ala.B, too few, one of the aeronauts wares a tricolour flag over the edge of the car, and the descent doubtless commences, though personally we are as yet unaware of it, and a glance at the barometer alone apprises ua,to our earthward motion. From first to last, perhaps one of the most notable sensations which the balloon voyager experiences is that off complete tranquijity "and absence ' of apparent movement—whether he is ascending, remaining stationary, or descending the feeling is the same, there is no' rustling made by the wind, no creaking of the cordage, no vibration, nor any perceptible motion in the air—all is. still except the subdued hum from below, and the cheerful chattering of our fellowtravellers, whose interest is continually increased as they discern some new feature or familiar landmark. - ! : ■■■•'

The descent occupies about the}'same time as the ascent; the band plays again as we near the ground, and the people in the! courtyard of the Tuileries shout to their, aerial friends and wave their hats and handkerchiefs when they are near enough,to be recognised. We,are soon, at our moorings, and as we once more set foot;on earth, each passenger is presented, with a medal commemorative of the ascent. . , . .;..:,-.■