and round the moon - ron burkey's project page · and round the moon jules verne. the...

From the Earth to theMoon

and

Round the Moon

Jules Verne

The public-domain (U.S.) text was typed inby Rich Schroeppel, and proofed by an un-known Project Gutenberg volunteer. TheProject Gutenberg edition (“moon10”) wasconverted to LATEX using GutenMark soft-ware, and modified (principally to correctformatting problems) by Ron Burkey. Thetranslator—from French to English—is un-known. (If you happen to know, please tell us!)Report problems to [email protected]. Revi-sion B1 differs from B in that “—-” and “—–”were everywhere replaced by “—”.

Revision: B1Date: 02/02/2008

Contents

FROM THE EARTHTO THE MOON 3The Gun Club 3

President Barbicane’s Communication 11

Effect of the President’s Communication 21

Reply from the Observatoryof Cambridge 27

The Romance of the Moon 37

Permissive Limits of Ignorance andBelief in the United States 43

The Hymn of the Cannon-Ball 51

History of the Cannon 61

The Question of the Powders 67

One Enemy v. Twenty-FiveMillions of Friends 75

Florida and Texas 83

Urbi et Orbi 91

i

ii

Stones Hill 99

Pickaxe and Trowel 107

The Fête of the Casting 115

The Columbiad 121

A Telegraphic Dispatch 127

The Passenger of the Atlanta 129

A Monster Meeting 137

Attack and Riposte 147

How a Frenchman Manages an Affair 159

The New Citizen of the United States 171

The Projectile Vehicle 177

The Telescope of theRocky Mountains 183

Final Details 189

Fire! 197

Foul Weather 203

A New Star 207

ROUND THE MOON 213The First Part of this Work,

and Serving as a Prefaceto the Second 213

iii

Twenty Minutes Past Ten toForty-Seven Minutes Past Ten P.M. 221

The First Half-Hour 229

Their Place of Shelter 245

A Little Algebra 257

The Cold of Space 265

Question and Answer 277

A Moment of Intoxication 287

At Seventy-Eight Thousand FiveHundred and Fourteen Leagues 301

The Consequences of a Deviation 313

The Observers of the Moon 323

Fancy and Reality 329

Orographic Details 335

Lunar Landscapes 345

The Night of Three Hundred andFifty-Four Hours and a Half 355

Hyperbola or Parabola 367

The Southern Hemisphere 379

Tycho 383

Grave Questions 393

A Struggle Against the Impossible 403

iv

The Soundings of the Susquehanna 417

J. T. Maston Recalled 425

Recovered from the Sea 435

The End 445

FROM THE EARTHTO THE MOON

1

THE GUN CLUB

During the War of the Rebellion, a new andinfluential club was established in the cityof Baltimore in the State of Maryland. Itis well known with what energy the tastefor military matters became developed amongthat nation of ship-owners, shopkeepers, andmechanics. Simple tradesmen jumped theircounters to become extemporized captains,colonels, and generals, without having everpassed the School of Instruction at West Point;nevertheless; they quickly rivaled their com-peers of the old continent, and, like them, car-ried off victories by dint of lavish expenditurein ammunition, money, and men.

But the point in which the Americans sin-gularly distanced the Europeans was in thescience of gunnery. Not, indeed, that theirweapons retained a higher degree of per-fection than theirs, but that they exhibitedunheard-of dimensions, and consequently at-tained hitherto unheard-of ranges. In pointof grazing, plunging, oblique, or enfilading, orpoint-blank firing, the English, French, andPrussians have nothing to learn; but theircannon, howitzers, and mortars are mere

3

4 From the Earth to the Moon

pocket-pistols compared with the formidableengines of the American artillery.

This fact need surprise no one. The Yan-kees, the first mechanicians in the world, areengineers—just as the Italians are musiciansand the Germans metaphysicians—by rightof birth. Nothing is more natural, there-fore, than to perceive them applying their au-dacious ingenuity to the science of gunnery.Witness the marvels of Parrott, Dahlgren,and Rodman. The Armstrong, Palliser, andBeaulieu guns were compelled to bow beforetheir transatlantic rivals.

Now when an American has an idea, he di-rectly seeks a second American to share it. Ifthere be three, they elect a president and twosecretaries. Given four, they name a keeperof records, and the office is ready for work;five, they convene a general meeting, and theclub is fully constituted. So things were man-aged in Baltimore. The inventor of a new can-non associated himself with the caster and theborer. Thus was formed the nucleus of the“Gun Club.” In a single month after its for-mation it numbered 1,833 effective membersand 30,565 corresponding members.

One condition was imposed as a sine quanon upon every candidate for admission intothe association, and that was the condition ofhaving designed, or (more or less) perfecteda cannon; or, in default of a cannon, at leasta firearm of some description. It may, how-ever, be mentioned that mere inventors ofrevolvers, fire-shooting carbines, and similarsmall arms, met with little consideration. Ar-

The Gun Club 5

tillerists always commanded the chief place offavor.

The estimation in which these gentlemenwere held, according to one of the most scien-tific exponents of the Gun Club, was “propor-tional to the masses of their guns, and in thedirect ratio of the square of the distances at-tained by their projectiles.”

The Gun Club once founded, it is easy toconceive the result of the inventive genius ofthe Americans. Their military weapons at-tained colossal proportions, and their projec-tiles, exceeding the prescribed limits, unfortu-nately occasionally cut in two some unoffend-ing pedestrians. These inventions, in fact, leftfar in the rear the timid instruments of Euro-pean artillery.

It is but fair to add that these Yankees,brave as they have ever proved themselvesto be, did not confine themselves to theoriesand formulae, but that they paid heavily, inpropria persona, for their inventions. Amongthem were to be counted officers of all ranks,from lieutenants to generals; military men ofevery age, from those who were just makingtheir début in the profession of arms up tothose who had grown old in the gun-carriage.Many had found their rest on the field ofbattle whose names figured in the “Book ofHonor” of the Gun Club; and of those whomade good their return the greater proportionbore the marks of their indisputable valor.Crutches, wooden legs, artificial arms, steelhooks, caoutchouc jaws, silver craniums, plat-inum noses, were all to be found in the collec-


tion; and it was calculated by the great statis-tician Pitcairn that throughout the Gun Clubthere was not quite one arm between four per-sons and two legs between six.

Nevertheless, these valiant artilleriststook no particular account of these little facts,and felt justly proud when the despatches of abattle returned the number of victims at ten-fold the quantity of projectiles expended.

One day, however—sad and melancholyday!—peace was signed between the survivorsof the war; the thunder of the guns graduallyceased, the mortars were silent, the howitzerswere muzzled for an indefinite period, the can-non, with muzzles depressed, were returnedinto the arsenal, the shot were repiled, allbloody reminiscences were effaced; the cotton-plants grew luxuriantly in the well-manuredfields, all mourning garments were laid aside,together with grief; and the Gun Club was rel-egated to profound inactivity.

Some few of the more advanced and invet-erate theorists set themselves again to workupon calculations regarding the laws of pro-jectiles. They reverted invariably to giganticshells and howitzers of unparalleled caliber.Still in default of practical experience whatwas the value of mere theories? Consequently,the clubrooms became deserted, the servantsdozed in the antechambers, the newspapersgrew mouldy on the tables, sounds of snor-ing came from dark corners, and the membersof the Gun Club, erstwhile so noisy in theirseances, were reduced to silence by this disas-trous peace and gave themselves up wholly to

The Gun Club 7

dreams of a Platonic kind of artillery.“This is horrible!” said Tom Hunter one

evening, while rapidly carbonizing his woodenlegs in the fireplace of the smoking-room;“nothing to do! nothing to look forward to!what a loathsome existence! When againshall the guns arouse us in the morning withtheir delightful reports?”

“Those days are gone by,” said jolly Bilsby,trying to extend his missing arms. “It wasdelightful once upon a time! One invented agun, and hardly was it cast, when one has-tened to try it in the face of the enemy! Thenone returned to camp with a word of encour-agement from Sherman or a friendly shake ofthe hand from McClellan. But now the gen-erals are gone back to their counters; and inplace of projectiles, they despatch bales of cot-ton. By Jove, the future of gunnery in Americais lost!”

“Ay! and no war in prospect!” continued thefamous James T. Maston, scratching with hissteel hook his gutta-percha cranium. “Not acloud on the horizon! and that too at such acritical period in the progress of the scienceof artillery! Yes, gentlemen! I who addressyou have myself this very morning perfected amodel (plan, section, elevation, etc.) of a mor-tar destined to change all the conditions ofwarfare!”

“No! is it possible?” replied Tom Hunter,his thoughts reverting involuntarily to a for-mer invention of the Hon. J. T. Maston, bywhich, at its first trial, he had succeeded inkilling three hundred and thirty-seven people.


“Fact!” replied he. “Still, what is the use ofso many studies worked out, so many difficul-ties vanquished? It’s mere waste of time! TheNew World seems to have made up its mindto live in peace; and our bellicose Tribune pre-dicts some approaching catastrophes arisingout of this scandalous increase of population.”

“Nevertheless,” replied Colonel Bloms-berry, “they are always struggling in Europeto maintain the principle of nationalities.”

“Well?”“Well, there might be some field for enter-

prise down there; and if they would accept ourservices—”

“What are you dreaming of?” screamedBilsby; “work at gunnery for the benefit of for-eigners?”

“That would be better than doing nothinghere,” returned the colonel.

“Quite so,” said J. T. Matson; “but still weneed not dream of that expedient.”

“And why not?” demanded the colonel.“Because their ideas of progress in the Old

World are contrary to our American habits ofthought. Those fellows believe that one can’tbecome a general without having served firstas an ensign; which is as much as to say thatone can’t point a gun without having first castit oneself!”

“Ridiculous!” replied Tom Hunter, whit-tling with his bowie-knife the arms of his easychair; “but if that be the case there, all that isleft for us is to plant tobacco and distill whale-oil.”

“What!” roared J. T. Maston, “shall we not

The Gun Club 9

employ these remaining years of our life inperfecting firearms? Shall there never be afresh opportunity of trying the ranges of pro-jectiles? Shall the air never again be lightedwith the glare of our guns? No internationaldifficulty ever arise to enable us to declare waragainst some transatlantic power? Shall notthe French sink one of our steamers, or theEnglish, in defiance of the rights of nations,hang a few of our countrymen?”

“No such luck,” replied Colonel Bloms-berry; “nothing of the kind is likely to happen;and even if it did, we should not profit by it.American susceptibility is fast declining, andwe are all going to the dogs.”

“It is too true,” replied J. T. Maston, withfresh violence; “there are a thousand groundsfor fighting, and yet we don’t fight. We saveup our arms and legs for the benefit of nationswho don’t know what to do with them! Butstop—without going out of one’s way to finda cause for war—did not North America oncebelong to the English?”

“Undoubtedly,” replied Tom Hunter,stamping his crutch with fury.

“Well, then,” replied J. T. Maston, “whyshould not England in her turn belong to theAmericans?”

“It would be but just and fair,” returnedColonel Blomsberry.

“Go and propose it to the President of theUnited States,” cried J. T. Maston, “and seehow he will receive you.”

“Bah!” growled Bilsby between the fourteeth which the war had left him; “that will


never do!”“By Jove!” cried J. T. Maston, “he mustn’t

count on my vote at the next election!”“Nor on ours,” replied unanimously all the

bellicose invalids.“Meanwhile,” replied J. T. Maston, “allow

me to say that, if I cannot get an opportunityto try my new mortars on a real field of battle,I shall say good-by to the members of the GunClub, and go and bury myself in the prairiesof Arkansas!”

“In that case we will accompany you,” criedthe others.

Matters were in this unfortunate condi-tion, and the club was threatened with ap-proaching dissolution, when an unexpectedcircumstance occurred to prevent so de-plorable a catastrophe.

On the morrow after this conversationevery member of the association received asealed circular couched in the following terms:

BALTIMORE, OCTOBER 3.The president of the Gun Club

has the honor to inform his col-leagues that, at the meeting of the5th instant, he will bring beforethem a communication of an ex-tremely interesting nature. He re-quests, therefore, that they willmake it convenient to attend in ac-cordance with the present invita-tion. Very cordially,

IMPEY BARBICANE, P.G.C.

PRESIDENTBARBICANE’SCOMMUNICATION

On the 5th of October, at eight p.m., a densecrowd pressed toward the saloons of the GunClub at No. 21 Union Square. All the mem-bers of the association resident in Baltimoreattended the invitation of their president. Asregards the corresponding members, noticeswere delivered by hundreds throughout thestreets of the city, and, large as was the greathall, it was quite inadequate to accommodatethe crowd of savants. They overflowed intothe adjoining rooms, down the narrow pas-sages, into the outer courtyards. There theyran against the vulgar herd who pressed up tothe doors, each struggling to reach the frontranks, all eager to learn the nature of theimportant communication of President Barbi-cane; all pushing, squeezing, crushing withthat perfect freedom of action which is so pe-culiar to the masses when educated in ideasof “self-government.”

On that evening a stranger who might

11


have chanced to be in Baltimore could nothave gained admission for love or money intothe great hall. That was reserved exclusivelyfor resident or corresponding members; no oneelse could possibly have obtained a place; andthe city magnates, municipal councilors, and“select men” were compelled to mingle withthe mere townspeople in order to catch straybits of news from the interior.

Nevertheless the vast hall presented a cu-rious spectacle. Its immense area was sin-gularly adapted to the purpose. Lofty pillarsformed of cannon, superposed upon huge mor-tars as a base, supported the fine ironwork ofthe arches, a perfect piece of cast-iron lace-work. Trophies of blunderbuses, matchlocks,arquebuses, carbines, all kinds of firearms,ancient and modern, were picturesquely inter-laced against the walls. The gas lit up in fullglare myriads of revolvers grouped in the formof lustres, while groups of pistols, and cande-labra formed of muskets bound together, com-pleted this magnificent display of brilliance.Models of cannon, bronze castings, sights cov-ered with dents, plates battered by the shotsof the Gun Club, assortments of rammers andsponges, chaplets of shells, wreaths of projec-tiles, garlands of howitzers—in short, all theapparatus of the artillerist, enchanted the eyeby this wonderful arrangement and induced akind of belief that their real purpose was or-namental rather than deadly.

At the further end of the saloon the pres-ident, assisted by four secretaries, occupieda large platform. His chair, supported by a


carved gun-carriage, was modeled upon theponderous proportions of a 32-inch mortar. Itwas pointed at an angle of ninety degrees, andsuspended upon truncheons, so that the pres-ident could balance himself upon it as upon arocking-chair, a very agreeable fact in the veryhot weather. Upon the table (a huge iron platesupported upon six carronades) stood an ink-stand of exquisite elegance, made of a beau-tifully chased Spanish piece, and a sonnette,which, when required, could give forth a re-port equal to that of a revolver. During vi-olent debates this novel kind of bell scarcelysufficed to drown the clamor of these excitableartillerists.

In front of the table benches arranged inzigzag form, like the circumvallations of a re-trenchment, formed a succession of bastionsand curtains set apart for the use of the mem-bers of the club; and on this especial eveningone might say, “All the world was on the ram-parts.” The president was sufficiently wellknown, however, for all to be assured thathe would not put his colleagues to discomfortwithout some very strong motive.

Impey Barbicane was a man of forty yearsof age, calm, cold, austere; of a singularly seri-ous and self-contained demeanor, punctual asa chronometer, of imperturbable temper andimmovable character; by no means chivalrous,yet adventurous withal, and always bringingpractical ideas to bear upon the very rash-est enterprises; an essentially New Englan-der, a Northern colonist, a descendant of theold anti-Stuart Roundheads, and the impla-


cable enemy of the gentlemen of the South,those ancient cavaliers of the mother country.In a word, he was a Yankee to the backbone.

Barbicane had made a large fortune as atimber merchant. Being nominated directorof artillery during the war, he proved himselffertile in invention. Bold in his conceptions,he contributed powerfully to the progress ofthat arm and gave an immense impetus to ex-perimental researches.

He was personage of the middle height,having, by a rare exception in the Gun Club,all his limbs complete. His strongly markedfeatures seemed drawn by square and rule;and if it be true that, in order to judge a man’scharacter one must look at his profile, Bar-bicane, so examined, exhibited the most cer-tain indications of energy, audacity, and sang-froid.

At this moment he was sitting in his arm-chair, silent, absorbed, lost in reflection, shel-tered under his high-crowned hat—a kindof black cylinder which always seems firmlyscrewed upon the head of an American.

Just when the deep-toned clock in thegreat hall struck eight, Barbicane, as if hehad been set in motion by a spring, raisedhimself up. A profound silence ensued, andthe speaker, in a somewhat emphatic tone ofvoice, commenced as follows:

“My brave colleagues, too long already aparalyzing peace has plunged the members ofthe Gun Club in deplorable inactivity. After aperiod of years full of incidents we have beencompelled to abandon our labors, and to stop


short on the road of progress. I do not hesitateto state, baldly, that any war which would re-call us to arms would be welcome!” (Tremen-dous applause!) “But war, gentlemen, is im-possible under existing circumstances; and,however we may desire it, many years mayelapse before our cannon shall again thunderin the field of battle. We must make up ourminds, then, to seek in another train of ideassome field for the activity which we all pinefor.”

The meeting felt that the president wasnow approaching the critical point, and redou-bled their attention accordingly.

“For some months past, my brave col-leagues,” continued Barbicane, “I have beenasking myself whether, while confining our-selves to our own particular objects, we couldnot enter upon some grand experiment wor-thy of the nineteenth century; and whetherthe progress of artillery science would not en-able us to carry it out to a successful issue. Ihave been considering, working, calculating;and the result of my studies is the convic-tion that we are safe to succeed in an enter-prise which to any other country would ap-pear wholly impracticable. This project, theresult of long elaboration, is the object of mypresent communication. It is worthy of your-selves, worthy of the antecedents of the GunClub; and it cannot fail to make some noise inthe world.”

A thrill of excitement ran through themeeting.

Barbicane, having by a rapid movement


firmly fixed his hat upon his head, calmly con-tinued his harangue:

“There is no one among you, my brave col-leagues, who has not seen the Moon, or, atleast, heard speak of it. Don’t be surprisedif I am about to discourse to you regarding theQueen of the Night. It is perhaps reserved forus to become the Columbuses of this unknownworld. Only enter into my plans, and secondme with all your power, and I will lead you toits conquest, and its name shall be added tothose of the thirty-six states which composethis Great Union.”

“Three cheers for the Moon!” roared theGun Club, with one voice.

“The moon, gentlemen, has been carefullystudied,” continued Barbicane; “her mass,density, and weight; her constitution, mo-tions, distance, as well as her place in the so-lar system, have all been exactly determined.Selenographic charts have been constructedwith a perfection which equals, if it does noteven surpass, that of our terrestrial maps.Photography has given us proofs of the incom-parable beauty of our satellite; all is knownregarding the moon which mathematical sci-ence, astronomy, geology, and optics can learnabout her. But up to the present momentno direct communication has been establishedwith her.”

A violent movement of interest and sur-prise here greeted this remark of the speaker.

“Permit me,” he continued, “to recount toyou briefly how certain ardent spirits, start-ing on imaginary journeys, have penetrated


the secrets of our satellite. In the seventeenthcentury a certain David Fabricius boasted ofhaving seen with his own eyes the inhabitantsof the moon. In 1649 a Frenchman, one JeanBaudoin, published a ‘Journey performedfrom the Earth to the Moon by Domingo Gon-zalez,’ a Spanish adventurer. At the same pe-riod Cyrano de Bergerac published that cele-brated ‘Journeys in the Moon’ which met withsuch success in France. Somewhat later an-other Frenchman, named Fontenelle, wrote‘The Plurality of Worlds,’ a chef-d’oeuvre of itstime. About 1835 a small treatise, translatedfrom the New York American, related how SirJohn Herschel, having been despatched to theCape of Good Hope for the purpose of makingthere some astronomical calculations, had, bymeans of a telescope brought to perfection bymeans of internal lighting, reduced the appar-ent distance of the moon to eighty yards! Hethen distinctly perceived caverns frequentedby hippopotami, green mountains bordered bygolden lace-work, sheep with horns of ivory,a white species of deer and inhabitants withmembranous wings, like bats. This brochure,the work of an American named Locke, had agreat sale. But, to bring this rapid sketch toa close, I will only add that a certain HansPfaal, of Rotterdam, launching himself in aballoon filled with a gas extracted from nitro-gen, thirty-seven times lighter than hydrogen,reached the moon after a passage of nineteenhours. This journey, like all previous ones,was purely imaginary; still, it was the workof a popular American author—I mean Edgar


Poe!”“Cheers for Edgar Poe!” roared the assem-

blage, electrified by their president’s words.“I have now enumerated,” said Barbicane,

“the experiments which I call purely paperones, and wholly insufficient to establish se-rious relations with the Queen of the Night.Nevertheless, I am bound to add that somepractical geniuses have attempted to estab-lish actual communication with her. Thus,a few days ago, a German geometrician pro-posed to send a scientific expedition to thesteppes of Siberia. There, on those vastplains, they were to describe enormous ge-ometric figures, drawn in characters of re-flecting luminosity, among which was theproposition regarding the ‘square of the hy-pothenuse,’ commonly called the ‘Ass’s Bridge’by the French. ‘Every intelligent being,’ saidthe geometrician, ‘must understand the sci-entific meaning of that figure. The Selen-ites, do they exist, will respond by a simi-lar figure; and, a communication being thusonce established, it will be easy to form analphabet which shall enable us to conversewith the inhabitants of the moon.’ So spokethe German geometrician; but his project wasnever put into practice, and up to the presentday there is no bond in existence between theEarth and her satellite. It is reserved for thepractical genius of Americans to establish acommunication with the sidereal world. Themeans of arriving thither are simple, easy,certain, infallible—and that is the purpose ofmy present proposal.”


A storm of acclamations greeted thesewords. There was not a single person inthe whole audience who was not overcome,carried away, lifted out of himself by thespeaker’s words!

Long-continued applause resounded fromall sides.

As soon as the excitement had partiallysubsided, Barbicane resumed his speech in asomewhat graver voice.

“You know,” said he, “what progress ar-tillery science has made during the lastfew years, and what a degree of perfectionfirearms of every kind have reached. More-over, you are well aware that, in generalterms, the resisting power of cannon and theexpansive force of gunpowder are practicallyunlimited. Well! starting from this princi-ple, I ask myself whether, supposing suffi-cient apparatus could be obtained constructedupon the conditions of ascertained resistance,it might not be possible to project a shot up tothe moon?”

At these words a murmur of amazementescaped from a thousand panting chests; thensucceeded a moment of perfect silence, resem-bling that profound stillness which precedesthe bursting of a thunderstorm. In point offact, a thunderstorm did peal forth, but it wasthe thunder of applause, or cries, and of up-roar which made the very hall tremble. Thepresident attempted to speak, but could not.It was fully ten minutes before he could makehimself heard.

“Suffer me to finish,” he calmly continued.


“I have looked at the question in all its bear-ings, I have resolutely attacked it, and by in-controvertible calculations I find that a projec-tile endowed with an initial velocity of 12,000yards per second, and aimed at the moon,must necessarily reach it. I have the honor,my brave colleagues, to propose a trial of thislittle experiment.”

EFFECT OF THEPRESIDENT’SCOMMUNICATION

It is impossible to describe the effect pro-duced by the last words of the honorablepresident—the cries, the shouts, the succes-sion of roars, hurrahs, and all the varied vocif-erations which the American language is ca-pable of supplying. It was a scene of indescrib-able confusion and uproar. They shouted, theyclapped, they stamped on the floor of the hall.All the weapons in the museum dischargedat once could not have more violently set inmotion the waves of sound. One need not besurprised at this. There are some cannoneersnearly as noisy as their own guns.

Barbicane remained calm in the midst ofthis enthusiastic clamor; perhaps he was de-sirous of addressing a few more words to hiscolleagues, for by his gestures he demandedsilence, and his powerful alarum was worn outby its violent reports. No attention, however,was paid to his request. He was presently tornfrom his seat and passed from the hands of his

21


faithful colleagues into the arms of a no lessexcited crowd.

Nothing can astound an American. It hasoften been asserted that the word “impossible”in not a French one. People have evidentlybeen deceived by the dictionary. In America,all is easy, all is simple; and as for mechani-cal difficulties, they are overcome before theyarise. Between Barbicane’s proposition andits realization no true Yankee would have al-lowed even the semblance of a difficulty to bepossible. A thing with them is no sooner saidthan done.

The triumphal progress of the presidentcontinued throughout the evening. It was aregular torchlight procession. Irish, Germans,French, Scotch, all the heterogeneous unitswhich make up the population of Marylandshouted in their respective vernaculars; andthe “vivas,” “hurrahs,” and “bravos” were in-termingled in inexpressible enthusiasm.

Just at this crisis, as though she compre-hended all this agitation regarding herself,the moon shone forth with serene splendor,eclipsing by her intense illumination all thesurrounding lights. The Yankees all turnedtheir gaze toward her resplendent orb, kissedtheir hands, called her by all kinds of endear-ing names. Between eight o’clock and mid-night one optician in Jones’-Fall Street madehis fortune by the sale of opera-glasses.

Midnight arrived, and the enthusiasmshowed no signs of diminution. It spreadequally among all classes of citizens—menof science, shopkeepers, merchants, porters,


chair-men, as well as “greenhorns,” werestirred in their innermost fibres. A nationalenterprise was at stake. The whole city, highand low, the quays bordering the Patapsco, theships lying in the basins, disgorged a crowddrunk with joy, gin, and whisky. Every onechattered, argued, discussed, disputed, ap-plauded, from the gentleman lounging uponthe barroom settee with his tumbler of sherry-cobbler before him down to the waterman whogot drunk upon his “knock-me-down” in thedingy taverns of Fell Point.

About two A.M., however, the excite-ment began to subside. President Barbi-cane reached his house, bruised, crushed,and squeezed almost to a mummy. Herculescould not have resisted a similar outbreak ofenthusiasm. The crowd gradually desertedthe squares and streets. The four railwaysfrom Philadelphia and Washington, Harris-burg and Wheeling, which converge at Balti-more, whirled away the heterogeneous popu-lation to the four corners of the United States,and the city subsided into comparative tran-quility.

On the following day, thanks to thetelegraphic wires, five hundred newspapersand journals, daily, weekly, monthly, or bi-monthly, all took up the question. They exam-ined it under all its different aspects, physi-cal, meteorological, economical, or moral, upto its bearings on politics or civilization. Theydebated whether the moon was a finishedworld, or whether it was destined to undergoany further transformation. Did it resem-


ble the earth at the period when the latterwas destitute as yet of an atmosphere? Whatkind of spectacle would its hidden hemispherepresent to our terrestrial spheroid? Grant-ing that the question at present was simplythat of sending a projectile up to the moon, ev-ery one must see that that involved the com-mencement of a series of experiments. Allmust hope that some day America would pen-etrate the deepest secrets of that mysteriousorb; and some even seemed to fear lest its con-quest should not sensibly derange the equilib-rium of Europe.

The project once under discussion, nota single paragraph suggested a doubt ofits realization. All the papers, pamphlets,reports—all the journals published by the sci-entific, literary, and religious societies en-larged upon its advantages; and the Soci-ety of Natural History of Boston, the Soci-ety of Science and Art of Albany, the Geo-graphical and Statistical Society of New York,the Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, andthe Smithsonian of Washington sent innumer-able letters of congratulation to the Gun Club,together with offers of immediate assistanceand money.

From that day forward Impey Barbicanebecame one of the greatest citizens of theUnited States, a kind of Washington of sci-ence. A single trait of feeling, taken frommany others, will serve to show the pointwhich this homage of a whole people to a sin-gle individual attained.

Some few days after this memorable meet-


ing of the Gun Club, the manager of anEnglish company announced, at the Balti-more theatre, the production of “Much adoabout Nothing.” But the populace, seeing inthat title an allusion damaging to Barbicane’sproject, broke into the auditorium, smashedthe benches, and compelled the unlucky direc-tor to alter his playbill. Being a sensible man,he bowed to the public will and replaced theoffending comedy by “As you like it”; and formany weeks he realized fabulous profits.

REPLY FROM THEOBSERVATORYOF CAMBRIDGE

Barbicane, however, lost not one momentamid all the enthusiasm of which he had be-come the object. His first care was to re-assemble his colleagues in the board-room ofthe Gun Club. There, after some discussion,it was agreed to consult the astronomers re-garding the astronomical part of the enter-prise. Their reply once ascertained, they couldthen discuss the mechanical means, and noth-ing should be wanting to ensure the success ofthis great experiment.

A note couched in precise terms, contain-ing special interrogatories, was then drawnup and addressed to the Observatory of Cam-bridge in Massachusetts. This city, wherethe first university of the United States wasfounded, is justly celebrated for its astronom-ical staff. There are to be found assembledall the most eminent men of science. Hereis to be seen at work that powerful telescopewhich enabled Bond to resolve the nebula of

27


Andromeda, and Clarke to discover the satel-lite of Sirius. This celebrated institution fullyjustified on all points the confidence reposedin it by the Gun Club. So, after two days, thereply so impatiently awaited was placed in thehands of President Barbicane.

It was couched in the following terms:

The Director of the CambridgeObservatory to the President of the

Gun Club at Baltimore.

CAMBRIDGE, OCTOBER 7.On the receipt of your favor of

the 6th instant, addressed to theObservatory of Cambridge in thename of the members of the Balti-more Gun Club, our staff was im-mediately called together, and itwas judged expedient to reply asfollows:

The questions which have beenproposed to it are these—

“1. Is it possible to transmit aprojectile up to the moon?

“2. What is the exact distancewhich separates the earth from itssatellite?

“3. What will be the period oftransit of the projectile when en-dowed with sufficient initial veloc-ity? and, consequently, at what mo-ment ought it to be discharged in

Reply from the Observatory of Cambridge 29

order that it may touch the moonat a particular point?

“4. At what precise momentwill the moon present herself inthe most favorable position to bereached by the projectile?

“5. What point in the heavensought the cannon to be aimed atwhich is intended to discharge theprojectile?

“6. What place will the moon oc-cupy in the heavens at the momentof the projectile’s departure?”

Regarding the first question, “Isit possible to transmit a projectileup to the moon?”

Answer.—Yes; provided it pos-sess an initial velocity of 12,000yards per second; calculationsprove that to be sufficient. Inproportion as we recede from theearth the action of gravitation di-minishes in the inverse ratio of thesquare of the distance; that is tosay, at three times a given distancethe action is nine times less. Con-sequently, the weight of a shot willdecrease, and will become reducedto zero at the instant that the at-traction of the moon exactly coun-terpoises that of the earth; thatis to say at 47/52 of its passage.At that instant the projectile willhave no weight whatever; and, ifit passes that point, it will fall


into the moon by the sole effect ofthe lunar attraction. The theoreti-cal possibility of the experiment istherefore absolutely demonstrated;its success must depend upon thepower of the engine employed.

As to the second question,“What is the exact distance whichseparates the earth from its satel-lite?”

Answer.—The moon does not de-scribe a circle round the earth,but rather an ellipse, of which ourearth occupies one of the foci; theconsequence, therefore, is, that atcertain times it approaches nearerto, and at others it recedes far-ther from, the earth; in astronom-ical language, it is at one time inapogee, at another in perigee. Nowthe difference between its greatestand its least distance is too con-siderable to be left out of consid-eration. In point of fact, in itsapogee the moon is 247,552 miles,and in its perigee, 218,657 milesonly distant; a fact which makes adifference of 28,895 miles, or morethan one-ninth of the entire dis-tance. The perigee distance, there-fore, is that which ought to serve asthe basis of all calculations.

To the third question.Answer.—If the shot should pre-

serve continuously its initial ve-


locity of 12,000 yards per second,it would require little more thannine hours to reach its destination;but, inasmuch as that initial ve-locity will be continually decreas-ing, it will occupy 300,000 seconds,that is 83hrs. 20m. in reaching thepoint where the attraction of theearth and moon will be in equilib-rio. From this point it will fallinto the moon in 50,000 seconds, or13hrs. 53m. 20sec. It will be de-sirable, therefore, to discharge it97hrs. 13m. 20sec. before the ar-rival of the moon at the point aimedat.

Regarding question four, “Atwhat precise moment will the moonpresent herself in the most favor-able position, etc.?”

Answer.—After what has beensaid above, it will be necessary, firstof all, to choose the period when themoon will be in perigee, and alsothe moment when she will be cross-ing the zenith, which latter eventwill further diminish the entire dis-tance by a length equal to the ra-dius of the earth, i.e. 3,919 miles;the result of which will be that thefinal passage remaining to be ac-complished will be 214,976 miles.But although the moon passes herperigee every month, she does notreach the zenith always at exactly


the same moment. She does not ap-pear under these two conditions si-multaneously, except at long inter-vals of time. It will be necessary,therefore, to wait for the momentwhen her passage in perigee shallcoincide with that in the zenith.Now, by a fortunate circumstance,on the 4th of December in the en-suing year the moon will presentthese two conditions. At midnightshe will be in perigee, that is, at hershortest distance from the earth,and at the same moment she willbe crossing the zenith.

On the fifth question, “At whatpoint in the heavens ought the can-non to be aimed?”

Answer.—The preceding re-marks being admitted, the cannonought to be pointed to the zenithof the place. Its fire, therefore, willbe perpendicular to the plane ofthe horizon; and the projectile willsoonest pass beyond the range ofthe terrestrial attraction. But, inorder that the moon should reachthe zenith of a given place, it isnecessary that the place should notexceed in latitude the declinationof the luminary; in other words,it must be comprised within thedegrees 0◦ and 28◦ \of lat. N. orS. In every other spot the firemust necessarily be oblique, which


would seriously militate againstthe success of the experiment.

As to the sixth question, “Whatplace will the moon occupy in theheavens at the moment of the pro-jectile’s departure?”

Answer.—At the moment whenthe projectile shall be dischargedinto space, the moon, which trav-els daily forward 13◦ 10’ 35”, willbe distant from the zenith pointby four times that quantity, i.e. by52◦ 41’ 20”, a space which corre-sponds to the path which she willdescribe during the entire journeyof the projectile. But, inasmuch asit is equally necessary to take intoaccount the deviation which the ro-tary motion of the earth will im-part to the shot, and as the shotcannot reach the moon until aftera deviation equal to 16 radii of theearth, which, calculated upon themoon’s orbit, are equal to abouteleven degrees, it becomes neces-sary to add these eleven degreesto those which express the retar-dation of the moon just mentioned:that is to say, in round numbers,about sixty-four degrees. Conse-quently, at the moment of firing thevisual radius applied to the moonwill describe, with the vertical lineof the place, an angle of sixty-fourdegrees.


These are our answers to thequestions proposed to the Observa-tory of Cambridge by the membersof the Gun Club:

To sum up—1st. The cannon ought to be

planted in a country situated be-tween 0◦ and 28◦ of N. or S. lat.

2nd. It ought to be pointeddirectly toward the zenith of theplace.

3rd. The projectile ought to bepropelled with an initial velocity of12,000 yards per second.

4th. It ought to be dischargedat 10hrs. 46m. 40sec. of the 1st ofDecember of the ensuing year.

5th. It will meet the moon fourdays after its discharge, preciselyat midnight on the 4th of Decem-ber, at the moment of its transitacross the zenith.

The members of the Gun Clubought, therefore, without delay, tocommence the works necessary forsuch an experiment, and to be pre-pared to set to work at the mo-ment determined upon; for, if theyshould suffer this 4th of Decemberto go by, they will not find the moonagain under the same conditions ofperigee and of zenith until eighteenyears and eleven days afterward.

The staff of the Cambridge Ob-servatory place themselves entirely


at their disposal in respect of allquestions of theoretical astronomy;and herewith add their congratu-lations to those of all the rest ofAmerica.

For the Astronomical Staff,J. M. BELFAST

Director of the Observatory ofCambridge.

THE ROMANCEOF THE MOON

An observer endued with an infinite rangeof vision, and placed in that unknown centeraround which the entire world revolves, mighthave beheld myriads of atoms filling all spaceduring the chaotic epoch of the universe. Lit-tle by little, as ages went on, a change tookplace; a general law of attraction manifesteditself, to which the hitherto errant atomsbecame obedient: these atoms combined to-gether chemically according to their affinities,formed themselves into molecules, and com-posed those nebulous masses with which thedepths of the heavens are strewed. Thesemasses became immediately endued with arotary motion around their own central point.This center, formed of indefinite molecules,began to revolve around its own axis duringits gradual condensation; then, following theimmutable laws of mechanics, in proportionas its bulk diminished by condensation, itsrotary motion became accelerated, and thesetwo effects continuing, the result was the for-mation of one principal star, the center of the

37


nebulous mass.By attentively watching, the observer

would then have perceived the othermolecules of the mass, following the ex-ample of this central star, become likewisecondensed by gradually accelerated rotation,and gravitating round it in the shape ofinnumerable stars. Thus was formed theNebulae, of which astronomers have reckonedup nearly 5,000.

Among these 5,000 nebulae there is onewhich has received the name of the MilkyWay, and which contains eighteen millions ofstars, each of which has become the center ofa solar world.

If the observer had then specially directedhis attention to one of the more humble andless brilliant of these stellar bodies, a starof the fourth class, that which is arrogantlycalled the Sun, all the phenomena to whichthe formation of the Universe is to be ascribedwould have been successively fulfilled beforehis eyes. In fact, he would have perceivedthis sun, as yet in the gaseous state, and com-posed of moving molecules, revolving roundits axis in order to accomplish its work of con-centration. This motion, faithful to the lawsof mechanics, would have been acceleratedwith the diminution of its volume; and a mo-ment would have arrived when the centrifugalforce would have overpowered the centripetal,which causes the molecules all to tend towardthe center.

Another phenomenon would now havepassed before the observer’s eye, and the


molecules situated on the plane of the equa-tor, escaping like a stone from a sling ofwhich the cord had suddenly snapped, wouldhave formed around the sun sundry concen-tric rings resembling that of Saturn. In theirturn, again, these rings of cosmical matter,excited by a rotary motion about the centralmass, would have been broken up and decom-posed into secondary nebulosities, that is tosay, into planets. Similarly he would haveobserved these planets throw off one or morerings each, which became the origin of the sec-ondary bodies which we call satellites.

Thus, then, advancing from atom tomolecule, from molecule to nebulous mass,from that to principal star, from star to sun,from sun to planet, and hence to satellite, wehave the whole series of transformations un-dergone by the heavenly bodies during thefirst days of the world.

Now, of those attendant bodies which thesun maintains in their elliptical orbits by thegreat law of gravitation, some few in turnpossess satellites. Uranus has eight, Saturneight, Jupiter four, Neptune possibly three,and the Earth one. This last, one of the leastimportant of the entire solar system, we callthe Moon; and it is she whom the daring ge-nius of the Americans professed their inten-tion of conquering.

The moon, by her comparative proximity,and the constantly varying appearances pro-duced by her several phases, has always occu-pied a considerable share of the attention ofthe inhabitants of the earth.


From the time of Thales of Miletus, in thefifth century B.C., down to that of Copernicusin the fifteenth and Tycho Brahe in the six-teenth century A.D., observations have beenfrom time to time carried on with more or lesscorrectness, until in the present day the alti-tudes of the lunar mountains have been deter-mined with exactitude. Galileo explained thephenomena of the lunar light produced dur-ing certain of her phases by the existence ofmountains, to which he assigned a mean al-titude of 27,000 feet. After him Hevelius, anastronomer of Dantzic, reduced the highest el-evations to 15,000 feet; but the calculations ofRiccioli brought them up again to 21,000 feet.

At the close of the eighteenth centuryHerschel, armed with a powerful telescope,considerably reduced the preceding measure-ments. He assigned a height of 11,400feet to the maximum elevations, and reducedthe mean of the different altitudes to littlemore than 2,400 feet. But Herschel’s calcu-lations were in their turn corrected by theobservations of Halley, Nasmyth, Bianchini,Gruithuysen, and others; but it was reservedfor the labors of Boeer and Maedler finally tosolve the question. They succeeded in mea-suring 1,905 different elevations, of which sixexceed 15,000 feet, and twenty-two exceed14,400 feet. The highest summit of all tow-ers to a height of 22,606 feet above the sur-face of the lunar disc. At the same period theexamination of the moon was completed. Sheappeared completely riddled with craters, andher essentially volcanic character was appar-


ent at each observation. By the absence of re-fraction in the rays of the planets occulted byher we conclude that she is absolutely devoidof an atmosphere. The absence of air entailsthe absence of water. It became, therefore,manifest that the Selenites, to support life un-der such conditions, must possess a special or-ganization of their own, must differ remark-ably from the inhabitants of the earth.

At length, thanks to modern art, instru-ments of still higher perfection searched themoon without intermission, not leaving asingle point of her surface unexplored; andnotwithstanding that her diameter measures2,150 miles, her surface equals the one-fifteenth part of that of our globe, and her bulkthe one-forty-ninth part of that of the terres-trial spheroid—not one of her secrets was ableto escape the eyes of the astronomers; andthese skillful men of science carried to an evengreater degree their prodigious observations.

Thus they remarked that, during fullmoon, the disc appeared scored in certainparts with white lines; and, during thephases, with black. On prosecuting the studyof these with still greater precision, they suc-ceeded in obtaining an exact account of thenature of these lines. They were long andnarrow furrows sunk between parallel ridges,bordering generally upon the edges of thecraters. Their length varied between ten and100 miles, and their width was about 1,600yards. Astronomers called them chasms, butthey could not get any further. Whether thesechasms were the dried-up beds of ancient


rivers or not they were unable thoroughly toascertain.

The Americans, among others, hoped oneday or other to determine this geological ques-tion. They also undertook to examine the truenature of that system of parallel ramparts dis-covered on the moon’s surface by Gruithuy-sen, a learned professor of Munich, who con-sidered them to be “a system of fortificationsthrown up by the Selenitic engineers.” Thesetwo points, yet obscure, as well as others, nodoubt, could not be definitely settled except bydirect communication with the moon.

Regarding the degree of intensity of itslight, there was nothing more to learn on thispoint. It was known that it is 300,000 timesweaker than that of the sun, and that its heathas no appreciable effect upon the thermome-ter. As to the phenomenon known as the “ashylight,” it is explained naturally by the effectof the transmission of the solar rays from theearth to the moon, which give the appear-ance of completeness to the lunar disc, while itpresents itself under the crescent form duringits first and last phases.

Such was the state of knowledge acquiredregarding the earth’s satellite, which the GunClub undertook to perfect in all its aspects,cosmographic, geological, political, and moral.

PERMISSIVELIMITS OFIGNORANCE ANDBELIEF IN THEUNITED STATES

The immediate result of Barbicane’s proposi-tion was to place upon the orders of the day allthe astronomical facts relative to the Queen ofthe Night. Everybody set to work to study as-siduously. One would have thought that themoon had just appeared for the first time, andthat no one had ever before caught a glimpseof her in the heavens. The papers revivedall the old anecdotes in which the “sun of thewolves” played a part; they recalled the in-fluences which the ignorance of past ages as-cribed to her; in short, all America was seizedwith selenomania, or had become moon-mad.

The scientific journals, for their part, dealtmore especially with the questions whichtouched upon the enterprise of the Gun Club.The letter of the Observatory of Cambridge

43


was published by them, and commented uponwith unreserved approval.

Until that time most people had been igno-rant of the mode in which the distance whichseparates the moon from the earth is calcu-lated. They took advantage of this fact to ex-plain to them that this distance was obtainedby measuring the parallax of the moon. Theterm parallax proving “caviare to the general,”they further explained that it meant the angleformed by the inclination of two straight linesdrawn from either extremity of the earth’s ra-dius to the moon. On doubts being expressedas to the correctness of this method, they im-mediately proved that not only was the meandistance 234,347 miles, but that astronomerscould not possibly be in error in their estimateby more than seventy miles either way.

To those who were not familiar with themotions of the moon, they demonstrated thatshe possesses two distinct motions, the firstbeing that of rotation upon her axis, the sec-ond being that of revolution round the earth,accomplishing both together in an equal pe-riod of time, that is to say, in twenty-sevenand one-third days.

The motion of rotation is that which pro-duces day and night on the surface of themoon; save that there is only one day and onenight in the lunar month, each lasting threehundred and fifty-four and one-third hours.But, happily for her, the face turned towardthe terrestrial globe is illuminated by it withan intensity equal to that of fourteen moons.As to the other face, always invisible to us, it

Permissive Limits of Ignorance 45

has of necessity three hundred and fifty-fourhours of absolute night, tempered only by that“pale glimmer which falls upon it from thestars.”

Some well-intentioned, but rather obsti-nate persons, could not at first comprehendhow, if the moon displays invariably the sameface to the earth during her revolution, shecan describe one turn round herself. To suchthey answered, “Go into your dining-room,and walk round the table in such a way asto always keep your face turned toward thecenter; by the time you will have achievedone complete round you will have completedone turn around yourself, since your eye willhave traversed successively every point of theroom. Well, then, the room is the heavens, thetable is the earth, and the moon is yourself.”And they would go away delighted.

So, then the moon displays invariably thesame face to the earth; nevertheless, to bequite exact, it is necessary to add that, in con-sequence of certain fluctuations of north andsouth, and of west and east, termed her libra-tion, she permits rather more than half, thatis to say, five-sevenths, to be seen.

As soon as the ignoramuses came to un-derstand as much as the director of the ob-servatory himself knew, they began to worrythemselves regarding her revolution roundthe earth, whereupon twenty scientific re-views immediately came to the rescue. Theypointed out to them that the firmament, withits infinitude of stars, may be considered asone vast dial-plate, upon which the moon trav-


els, indicating the true time to all the inhabi-tants of the earth; that it is during this move-ment that the Queen of Night exhibits her dif-ferent phases; that the moon is full when sheis in opposition with the sun, that is when thethree bodies are on the same straight line, theearth occupying the center; that she is newwhen she is in conjunction with the sun, thatis, when she is between it and the earth; and,lastly that she is in her first or last quarter,when she makes with the sun and the earthan angle of which she herself occupies theapex.

Regarding the altitude which the moon at-tains above the horizon, the letter of the Cam-bridge Observatory had said all that was tobe said in this respect. Every one knew thatthis altitude varies according to the latitudeof the observer. But the only zones of theglobe in which the moon passes the zenith,that is, the point directly over the head of thespectator, are of necessity comprised betweenthe twenty-eighth parallels and the equator.Hence the importance of the advice to try theexperiment upon some point of that part ofthe globe, in order that the projectile might bedischarged perpendicularly, and so the soon-est escape the action of gravitation. This wasan essential condition to the success of the en-terprise, and continued actively to engage thepublic attention.

Regarding the path described by the moonin her revolution round the earth, the Cam-bridge Observatory had demonstrated thatthis path is a re-entering curve, not a per-


fect circle, but an ellipse, of which the earthoccupies one of the foci. It was also well un-derstood that it is farthest removed from theearth during its apogee, and approaches mostnearly to it at its perigee.

Such was then the extent of knowledgepossessed by every American on the subject,and of which no one could decently profess ig-norance. Still, while these principles were be-ing rapidly disseminated many errors and il-lusory fears proved less easy to eradicate.

For instance, some worthy persons main-tained that the moon was an ancient cometwhich, in describing its elongated orbit roundthe sun, happened to pass near the earth, andbecame confined within her circle of attrac-tion. These drawing-room astronomers pro-fessed to explain the charred aspect of themoon—a disaster which they attributed to theintensity of the solar heat; only, on being re-minded that comets have an atmosphere, andthat the moon has little or none, they werefairly at a loss for a reply.

Others again, belonging to the doubtingclass, expressed certain fears as to the posi-tion of the moon. They had heard it said that,according to observations made in the time ofthe Caliphs, her revolution had become accel-erated in a certain degree. Hence they con-cluded, logically enough, that an accelerationof motion ought to be accompanied by a cor-responding diminution in the distance sepa-rating the two bodies; and that, supposingthe double effect to be continued to infinity,the moon would end by one day falling into


the earth. However, they became reassuredas to the fate of future generations on beingapprised that, according to the calculationsof Laplace, this acceleration of motion is con-fined within very restricted limits, and that aproportional diminution of speed will be cer-tain to succeed it. So, then, the stability of thesolar system would not be deranged in ages tocome.

There remains but the third class, the su-perstitious. These worthies were not contentmerely to rest in ignorance; they must knowall about things which had no existence what-ever, and as to the moon, they had long knownall about her. One set regarded her disc asa polished mirror, by means of which peoplecould see each other from different points ofthe earth and interchange their thoughts. An-other set pretended that out of one thousandnew moons that had been observed, nine hun-dred and fifty had been attended with remark-able disturbances, such as cataclysms, revolu-tions, earthquakes, the deluge, etc. Then theybelieved in some mysterious influence exer-cised by her over human destinies—that ev-ery Selenite was attached to some inhabitantof the earth by a tie of sympathy; they main-tained that the entire vital system is subjectto her control, etc. But in time the majority re-nounced these vulgar errors, and espoused thetrue side of the question. As for the Yankees,they had no other ambition than to take pos-session of this new continent of the sky, and toplant upon the summit of its highest elevationthe star-spangled banner of the United States


of America.

THE HYMN OFTHECANNON-BALL

The Observatory of Cambridge in its memo-rable letter had treated the question from apurely astronomical point of view. The me-chanical part still remained.

President Barbicane had, without loss oftime, nominated a working committee of theGun Club. The duty of this committee wasto resolve the three grand questions of thecannon, the projectile, and the powder. Itwas composed of four members of great tech-nical knowledge, Barbicane (with a castingvote in case of equality), General Morgan, Ma-jor Elphinstone, and J. T. Maston, to whomwere confided the functions of secretary. Onthe 8th of October the committee met at thehouse of President Barbicane, 3 RepublicanStreet. The meeting was opened by the presi-dent himself.

“Gentlemen,” said he, “we have to resolveone of the most important problems in thewhole of the noble science of gunnery. It might

51


appear, perhaps, the most logical course to de-vote our first meeting to the discussion of theengine to be employed. Nevertheless, aftermature consideration, it has appeared to methat the question of the projectile must takeprecedence of that of the cannon, and that thedimensions of the latter must necessarily de-pend on those of the former.”

“Suffer me to say a word,” here broke in J.T. Maston. Permission having been granted,“Gentlemen,” said he with an inspired accent,“our president is right in placing the questionof the projectile above all others. The ball weare about to discharge at the moon is our am-bassador to her, and I wish to consider it froma moral point of view. The cannon-ball, gen-tlemen, to my mind, is the most magnificentmanifestation of human power. If Providencehas created the stars and the planets, manhas called the cannon-ball into existence. LetProvidence claim the swiftness of electricityand of light, of the stars, the comets, and theplanets, of wind and sound—we claim to haveinvented the swiftness of the cannon-ball, ahundred times superior to that of the swiftesthorses or railway train. How glorious willbe the moment when, infinitely exceeding allhitherto attained velocities, we shall launchour new projectile with the rapidity of sevenmiles a second! Shall it not, gentlemen—shallit not be received up there with the honors dueto a terrestrial ambassador?”

Overcome with emotion the orator satdown and applied himself to a huge plate ofsandwiches before him.


“And now,” said Barbicane, “let us quit thedomain of poetry and come direct to the ques-tion.”

“By all means,” replied the members, eachwith his mouth full of sandwich.

“The problem before us,” continued thepresident, “is how to communicate to a pro-jectile a velocity of 12,000 yards per second.Let us at present examine the velocities hith-erto attained. General Morgan will be able toenlighten us on this point.”

“And the more easily,” replied the gen-eral, “that during the war I was a mem-ber of the committee of experiments. I maysay, then, that the 100-pounder Dahlgrens,which carried a distance of 5,000 yards, im-pressed upon their projectile an initial ve-locity of 500 yards a second. The RodmanColumbiad threw a shot weighing half a tona distance of six miles, with a velocity of 800yards per second—a result which Armstrongand Palisser have never obtained in England.”

“This,” replied Barbicane, “is, I believe, themaximum velocity ever attained?”

“It is so,” replied the general.“Ah!” groaned J. T. Maston, “if my mortar

had not burst—”“Yes,” quietly replied Barbicane, “but it did

burst. We must take, then, for our startingpoint, this velocity of 800 yards. We must in-crease it twenty-fold. Now, reserving for an-other discussion the means of producing thisvelocity, I will call your attention to the di-mensions which it will be proper to assign tothe shot. You understand that we have noth-


ing to do here with projectiles weighing atmost but half a ton.”

“Why not?” demanded the major.“Because the shot,” quickly replied J. T.

Maston, “must be big enough to attract the at-tention of the inhabitants of the moon, if thereare any?”

“Yes,” replied Barbicane, “and for anotherreason more important still.”

“What mean you?” asked the major.“I mean that it is not enough to discharge

a projectile, and then take no further notice ofit; we must follow it throughout its course, upto the moment when it shall reach its goal.”

“What?” shouted the general and the majorin great surprise.

“Undoubtedly,” replied Barbicane compos-edly, “or our experiment would produce no re-sult.”

“But then,” replied the major, “you willhave to give this projectile enormous dimen-sions.”

“No! Be so good as to listen. You knowthat optical instruments have acquired greatperfection; with certain instruments we havesucceeded in obtaining enlargements of 6,000times and reducing the moon to within fortymiles’ distance. Now, at this distance, any ob-jects sixty feet square would be perfectly visi-ble.

“If, then, the penetrative power of tele-scopes has not been further increased, it isbecause that power detracts from their light;and the moon, which is but a reflecting mirror,does not give back sufficient light to enable us


to perceive objects of lesser magnitude.”“Well, then, what do you propose to do?”

asked the general. “Would you give your pro-jectile a diameter of sixty feet?”

“Not so.”“Do you intend, then, to increase the lumi-

nous power of the moon?”“Exactly so. If I can succeed in diminishing

the density of the atmosphere through whichthe moon’s light has to travel I shall have ren-dered her light more intense. To effect that ob-ject it will be enough to establish a telescopeon some elevated mountain. That is what wewill do.”

“I give it up,” answered the major. “Youhave such a way of simplifying things. Andwhat enlargement do you expect to obtain inthis way?”

“One of 48,000 times, which should bringthe moon within an apparent distance of fivemiles; and, in order to be visible, objects neednot have a diameter of more than nine feet.”

“So, then,” cried J. T. Maston, “our projec-tile need not be more than nine feet in diame-ter.”

“Let me observe, however,” interruptedMajor Elphinstone, “this will involve a weightsuch as—”

“My dear major,” replied Barbicane, “be-fore discussing its weight permit me to enu-merate some of the marvels which our ances-tors have achieved in this respect. I don’tmean to pretend that the science of gunneryhas not advanced, but it is as well to bearin mind that during the middle ages they


obtained results more surprising, I will ven-ture to say, than ours. For instance, duringthe siege of Constantinople by Mahomet II.,in 1453, stone shot of 1,900 pounds weightwere employed. At Malta, in the time of theknights, there was a gun of the fortress of St.Elmo which threw a projectile weighing 2,500pounds. And, now, what is the extent of whatwe have seen ourselves? Armstrong guns dis-charging shot of 500 pounds, and the Rodmanguns projectiles of half a ton! It seems, then,that if projectiles have gained in range, theyhave lost far more in weight. Now, if we turnour efforts in that direction, we ought to ar-rive, with the progress on science, at ten timesthe weight of the shot of Mahomet II. and theKnights of Malta.”

“Clearly,” replied the major; “but whatmetal do you calculate upon employing?”

“Simply cast iron,” said General Morgan.“But,” interrupted the major, “since the

weight of a shot is proportionate to its volume,an iron ball of nine feet in diameter would beof tremendous weight.”

“Yes, if it were solid, not if it were hollow.”“Hollow? then it would be a shell?”“Yes, a shell,” replied Barbicane; “decidely

it must be. A solid shot of 108 inches wouldweigh more than 200,000 pounds, a weight ev-idently far too great. Still, as we must reservea certain stability for our projectile, I proposeto give it a weight of 20,000 pounds.”

“What, then, will be the thickness of thesides?” asked the major.

“If we follow the usual proportion,” replied


Morgan, “a diameter of 108 inches would re-quire sides of two feet thickness, or less.”

“That would be too much,” replied Barbi-cane; “for you will observe that the questionis not that of a shot intended to pierce aniron plate; it will suffice to give it sides strongenough to resist the pressure of the gas. Theproblem, therefore, is this—What thicknessought a cast-iron shell to have in order notto weight more than 20,000 pounds? Ourclever secretary will soon enlighten us uponthis point.”

“Nothing easier,” replied the worthy sec-retary of the committee; and, rapidly trac-ing a few algebraical formulae upon paper,among which n2 and x2 frequently appeared,he presently said:

“The sides will require a thickness of lessthan two inches.”

“Will that be enough?” asked the majordoubtfully.

“Clearly not!” replied the president.“What is to be done, then?” said Elphin-

stone, with a puzzled air.“Employ another metal instead of iron.”“Copper?” said Morgan.“No! that would be too heavy. I have better

than that to offer.”“What then?” asked the major.“Aluminum!” replied Barbicane.“Aluminum?” cried his three colleagues in

chorus.“Unquestionably, my friends. This valu-

able metal possesses the whiteness of silver,the indestructibility of gold, the tenacity of


iron, the fusibility of copper, the lightness ofglass. It is easily wrought, is very widely dis-tributed, forming the base of most of the rocks,is three times lighter than iron, and seems tohave been created for the express purpose offurnishing us with the material for our pro-jectile.”

“But, my dear president,” said the major,“is not the cost price of aluminum extremelyhigh?”

“It was so at its first discovery, but it hasfallen now to nine dollars a pound.”

“But still, nine dollars a pound!” repliedthe major, who was not willing readily to givein; “even that is an enormous price.”

“Undoubtedly, my dear major; but not be-yond our reach.”

“What will the projectile weigh then?”asked Morgan.

“Here is the result of my calculations,”replied Barbicane. “A shot of 108 inches in di-ameter, and twelve inches in thickness, wouldweigh, in cast-iron, 67,440 pounds; cast in alu-minum, its weight will be reduced to 19,250pounds.”

“Capital!” cried the major; “but do youknow that, at nine dollars a pound, this pro-jectile will cost—”

“One hundred and seventy-three thousandand fifty dollars ($173,050). I know it quitewell. But fear not, my friends; the money willnot be wanting for our enterprise. I will an-swer for it. Now what say you to aluminum,gentlemen?”

“Adopted!” replied the three members of


the committee. So ended the first meeting.The question of the projectile was definitelysettled.

HISTORY OF THECANNON

The resolutions passed at the last meetingproduced a great effect out of doors. Timidpeople took fright at the idea of a shot weigh-ing 20,000 pounds being launched into space;they asked what cannon could ever transmita sufficient velocity to such a mighty mass.The minutes of the second meeting were des-tined triumphantly to answer such questions.The following evening the discussion was re-newed.

“My dear colleagues,” said Barbicane,without further preamble, “the subject nowbefore us is the construction of the engine, itslength, its composition, and its weight. It isprobable that we shall end by giving it gigan-tic dimensions; but however great may be thedifficulties in the way, our mechanical geniuswill readily surmount them. Be good enough,then, to give me your attention, and do nothesitate to make objections at the close. Ihave no fear of them. The problem before us ishow to communicate an initial force of 12,000yards per second to a shell of 108 inches in di-

61


ameter, weighing 20,000 pounds. Now whena projectile is launched into space, what hap-pens to it? It is acted upon by three indepen-dent forces: the resistance of the air, the at-traction of the earth, and the force of impul-sion with which it is endowed. Let us examinethese three forces. The resistance of the air isof little importance. The atmosphere of theearth does not exceed forty miles. Now, withthe given rapidity, the projectile will have tra-versed this in five seconds, and the period istoo brief for the resistance of the medium tobe regarded otherwise than as insignificant.Proceding, then, to the attraction of the earth,that is, the weight of the shell, we know thatthis weight will diminish in the inverse ratioof the square of the distance. When a body leftto itself falls to the surface of the earth, it fallsfive feet in the first second; and if the samebody were removed 257,542 miles further off,in other words, to the distance of the moon, itsfall would be reduced to about half a line inthe first second. That is almost equivalent toa state of perfect rest. Our business, then, isto overcome progressively this action of grav-itation. The mode of accomplishing that is bythe force of impulsion.”

“There’s the difficulty,” broke in the major.“True,” replied the president; “but we will

overcome that, for the force of impulsion willdepend on the length of the engine and thepowder employed, the latter being limitedonly by the resisting power of the former. Ourbusiness, then, to-day is with the dimensionsof the cannon.”


“Now, up to the present time,” said Bar-bicane, “our longest guns have not exceededtwenty-five feet in length. We shall thereforeastonish the world by the dimensions we shallbe obliged to adopt. It must evidently be, then,a gun of great range, since the length of thepiece will increase the detention of the gas ac-cumulated behind the projectile; but there isno advantage in passing certain limits.”

“Quite so,” said the major. “What is therule in such a case?”

“Ordinarily the length of a gun is twentyto twenty-five times the diameter of the shot,and its weight two hundred and thirty-five totwo hundred and forty times that of the shot.”

“That is not enough,” cried J. T. Maston im-petuously.

“I agree with you, my good friend; and,in fact, following this proportion for a pro-jectile nine feet in diameter, weighing 30,000pounds, the gun would only have a lengthof two hundred and twenty-five feet, and aweight of 7,200,000 pounds.”

“Ridiculous!” rejoined Maston. “As welltake a pistol.”

“I think so too,” replied Barbicane; “that iswhy I propose to quadruple that length, andto construct a gun of nine hundred feet.”

The general and the major offered someobjections; nevertheless, the proposition, ac-tively supported by the secretary, was defi-nitely adopted.

“But,” said Elphinstone, “what thicknessmust we give it?”

“A thickness of six feet,” replied Barbicane.


“You surely don’t think of mounting a masslike that upon a carriage?” asked the major.

“It would be a superb idea, though,” saidMaston.

“But impracticable,” replied Barbicane.“No, I think of sinking this engine in the earthalone, binding it with hoops of wrought iron,and finally surrounding it with a thick mass ofmasonry of stone and cement. The piece oncecast, it must be bored with great precision, soas to preclude any possible windage. So therewill be no loss whatever of gas, and all the ex-pansive force of the powder will be employedin the propulsion.”

“One simple question,” said Elphinstone:“is our gun to be rifled?”

“No, certainly not,” replied Barbicane; “werequire an enormous initial velocity; and youare well aware that a shot quits a rifled gunless rapidly than it does a smooth-bore.”

“True,” rejoined the major.The committee here adjourned for a few

minutes to tea and sandwiches.On the discussion being renewed, “Gentle-

men,” said Barbicane, “we must now take intoconsideration the metal to be employed. Ourcannon must be possessed of great tenacity,great hardness, be infusible by heat, indissol-uble, and inoxidable by the corrosive action ofacids.”

“There is no doubt about that,” replied themajor; “and as we shall have to employ an im-mense quantity of metal, we shall not be at aloss for choice.”

“Well, then,” said Morgan, “I propose the


best alloy hitherto known, which consists ofone hundred parts of copper, twelve of tin, andsix of brass.”

“I admit,” replied the president, “that thiscomposition has yielded excellent results, butin the present case it would be too expensive,and very difficult to work. I think, then, thatwe ought to adopt a material excellent in itsway and of low price, such as cast iron. Whatis your advice, major?”

“I quite agree with you,” replied Elphin-stone.

“In fact,” continued Barbicane, “cast ironcosts ten times less than bronze; it is easy tocast, it runs readily from the moulds of sand,it is easy of manipulation, it is at once econom-ical of money and of time. In addition, it isexcellent as a material, and I well rememberthat during the war, at the siege of Atlanta,some iron guns fired one thousand rounds atintervals of twenty minutes without injury.”

“Cast iron is very brittle, though,” repliedMorgan.

“Yes, but it possesses great resistance. Iwill now ask our worthy secretary to calculatethe weight of a cast-iron gun with a bore ofnine feet and a thickness of six feet of metal.”

“In a moment,” replied Maston. Then,dashing off some algebraical formulae withmarvelous facility, in a minute or two he de-clared the following result:

“The cannon will weigh 68,040 tons. And,at two cents a pound, it will cost—”

“Two million five hundred and ten thou-sand seven hundred and one dollars.”


Maston, the major, and the general re-garded Barbicane with uneasy looks.

“Well, gentlemen,” replied the president,“I repeat what I said yesterday. Make your-selves easy; the millions will not be wanting.”

With this assurance of their president thecommittee separated, after having fixed theirthird meeting for the following evening.

THE QUESTIONOF THE POWDERS

There remained for consideration merely thequestion of powders. The public awaited withinterest its final decision. The size of the pro-jectile and the length of the cannon being set-tled, what would be the quantity of powdernecessary to produce impulsion?

It is generally asserted that gunpowderwas invented in the fourteenth century by themonk Schwartz, who paid for his grand dis-covery with his life. It is, however, prettywell proved that this story ought to be rankedamong the legends of the middle ages. Gun-powder was not invented by any one; it wasthe lineal successor of the Greek fire, which,like itself, was composed of sulfur and salt-peter. Few persons are acquainted with themechanical power of gunpowder. Now this isprecisely what is necessary to be understoodin order to comprehend the importance of thequestion submitted to the committee.

A litre of gunpowder weighs about twopounds; during combustion it produces 400litres of gas. This gas, on being liberated and

67


acted upon by temperature raised to 2,400 de-grees, occupies a space of 4,000 litres: conse-quently the volume of powder is to the vol-ume of gas produced by its combustion as 1to 4,000. One may judge, therefore, of thetremendous pressure on this gas when com-pressed within a space 4,000 times too con-fined. All this was, of course, well known tothe members of the committee when they meton the following evening.

The first speaker on this occasion was Ma-jor Elphinstone, who had been the director ofthe gunpowder factories during the war.

“Gentlemen,” said this distinguishedchemist, “I begin with some figures whichwill serve as the basis of our calculation. Theold 24-pounder shot required for its dischargesixteen pounds of powder.”

“You are certain of this amount?” broke inBarbicane.

“Quite certain,” replied the major. “TheArmstrong cannon employs only seventy-fivepounds of powder for a projectile of eighthundred pounds, and the Rodman Columbiaduses only one hundred and sixty pounds ofpowder to send its half ton shot a distanceof six miles. These facts cannot be called inquestion, for I myself raised the point duringthe depositions taken before the committee ofartillery.”

“Quite true,” said the general.“Well,” replied the major, “these figures go

to prove that the quantity of powder is not in-creased with the weight of the shot; that isto say, if a 24-pounder shot requires sixteen


pounds of powder;—in other words, if in or-dinary guns we employ a quantity of powderequal to two-thirds of the weight of the projec-tile, this proportion is not constant. Calculate,and you will see that in place of three hundredand thirty-three pounds of powder, the quan-tity is reduced to no more than one hundredand sixty pounds.”

“What are you aiming at?” asked the pres-ident.

“If you push your theory to extremes, mydear major,” said J. T. Maston, “you will get tothis, that as soon as your shot becomes suffi-ciently heavy you will not require any powderat all.”

“Our friend Maston is always at his jokes,even in serious matters,” cried the major;“but let him make his mind easy, I am go-ing presently to propose gunpowder enoughto satisfy his artillerist’s propensities. I onlykeep to statistical facts when I say that, dur-ing the war, and for the very largest guns,the weight of the powder was reduced, as theresult of experience, to a tenth part of theweight of the shot.”

“Perfectly correct,” said Morgan; “but be-fore deciding the quantity of powder neces-sary to give the impulse, I think it would beas well—”

“We shall have to employ a large-grainedpowder,” continued the major; “its combustionis more rapid than that of the small.”

“No doubt about that,” replied Morgan;“but it is very destructive, and ends by enlarg-ing the bore of the pieces.”


“Granted; but that which is injurious to agun destined to perform long service is not soto our Columbiad. We shall run no danger ofan explosion; and it is necessary that our pow-der should take fire instantaneously in orderthat its mechanical effect may be complete.”

“We must have,” said Maston, “severaltouch-holes, so as to fire it at different pointsat the same time.”

“Certainly,” replied Elphinstone; “but thatwill render the working of the piece moredifficult. I return then to my large-grainedpowder, which removes those difficulties. Inhis Columbiad charges Rodman employed apowder as large as chestnuts, made of wil-low charcoal, simply dried in cast-iron pans.This powder was hard and glittering, left notrace upon the hand, contained hydrogen andoxygen in large proportion, took fire instanta-neously, and, though very destructive, did notsensibly injure the mouth-piece.”

Up to this point Barbicane had kept alooffrom the discussion; he left the others to speakwhile he himself listened; he had evidentlygot an idea. He now simply said, “Well, myfriends, what quantity of powder do you pro-pose?”

The three members looked at one another.“Two hundred thousand pounds.” at last

said Morgan.“Five hundred thousand,” added the major.“Eight hundred thousand,” screamed Mas-

ton.A moment of silence followed this triple

proposal; it was at last broken by the presi-


dent.“Gentlemen,” he quietly said, “I start from

this principle, that the resistance of a gun,constructed under the given conditions, is un-limited. I shall surprise our friend Mas-ton, then, by stigmatizing his calculations astimid; and I propose to double his 800,000pounds of powder.”

“Sixteen hundred thousand pounds?”shouted Maston, leaping from his seat.

“Just so.”“We shall have to come then to my ideal

of a cannon half a mile long; for you see1,600,000 pounds will occupy a space of about20,000 cubic feet; and since the contents ofyour cannon do not exceed 54,000 cubic feet,it would be half full; and the bore will not bemore than long enough for the gas to commu-nicate to the projectile sufficient impulse.”

“Nevertheless,” said the president, “I holdto that quantity of powder. Now, 1,600,000pounds of powder will create 6,000,000,000litres of gas. Six thousand millions! You quiteunderstand?”

“What is to be done then?” said the gen-eral.

“The thing is very simple; we must reducethis enormous quantity of powder, while pre-serving to it its mechanical power.”

“Good; but by what means?”“I am going to tell you,” replied Barbicane

quietly.“Nothing is more easy than to reduce this

mass to one quarter of its bulk. You knowthat curious cellular matter which constitutes


the elementary tissues of vegetable? This sub-stance is found quite pure in many bodies,especially in cotton, which is nothing morethan the down of the seeds of the cotton plant.Now cotton, combined with cold nitric acid,become transformed into a substance emi-nently insoluble, combustible, and explosive.It was first discovered in 1832, by Bracon-not, a French chemist, who called it xyloidine.In 1838 another Frenchman, Pelouze, inves-tigated its different properties, and finally,in 1846, Schonbein, professor of chemistry atBale, proposed its employment for purposes ofwar. This powder, now called pyroxyle, or ful-minating cotton, is prepared with great facil-ity by simply plunging cotton for fifteen min-utes in nitric acid, then washing it in water,then drying it, and it is ready for use.”

“Nothing could be more simple,” said Mor-gan.

“Moreover, pyroxyle is unaltered bymoisture—a valuable property to us, inas-much as it would take several days to chargethe cannon. It ignites at 170 degrees in placeof 240, and its combustion is so rapid that onemay set light to it on the top of the ordinarypowder, without the latter having time toignite.”

“Perfect!” exclaimed the major.“Only it is more expensive.”“What matter?” cried J. T. Maston.“Finally, it imparts to projectiles a veloc-

ity four times superior to that of gunpowder.I will even add, that if we mix it with one-eighth of its own weight of nitrate of potas-


sium, its expansive force is again considerablyaugmented.”

“Will that be necessary?” asked the major.“I think not,” replied Barbicane. “So, then,

in place of 1,600,000 pounds of powder, weshall have but 400,000 pounds of fulminatingcotton; and since we can, without danger, com-press 500 pounds of cotton into twenty-sevencubic feet, the whole quantity will not occupya height of more than 180 feet within the boreof the Columbiad. In this way the shot willhave more than 700 feet of bore to traverseunder a force of 6,000,000,000 litres of gas be-fore taking its flight toward the moon.”

At this juncture J. T. Maston could not re-press his emotion; he flung himself into thearms of his friend with the violence of a pro-jectile, and Barbicane would have been stovein if he had not been boom-proof.

This incident terminated the third meet-ing of the committee.

Barbicane and his bold colleagues, towhom nothing seemed impossible, had suc-ceeded in solving the complex problems of pro-jectile, cannon, and powder. Their plan wasdrawn up, and it only remained to put it intoexecution.

“A mere matter of detail, a bagatelle,” saidJ. T. Maston.

ONE ENEMY V.TWENTY-FIVEMILLIONS OFFRIENDS

The American public took a lively interest inthe smallest details of the enterprise of theGun Club. It followed day by day the discus-sion of the committee. The most simple prepa-rations for the great experiment, the ques-tions of figures which it involved, the mechan-ical difficulties to be resolved—in one word,the entire plan of work—roused the popularexcitement to the highest pitch.

The purely scientific attraction was sud-denly intensified by the following incident:

We have seen what legions of admirers andfriends Barbicane’s project had rallied roundits author. There was, however, one single in-dividual alone in all the States of the Unionwho protested against the attempt of the GunClub. He attacked it furiously on every oppor-tunity, and human nature is such that Barbi-cane felt more keenly the opposition of that

75


one man than he did the applause of all theothers. He was well aware of the motive of thisantipathy, the origin of this solitary enmity,the cause of its personality and old standing,and in what rivalry of self-love it had its rise.

This persevering enemy the president ofthe Gun Club had never seen. Fortunate thatit was so, for a meeting between the two menwould certainly have been attended with se-rious consequences. This rival was a man ofscience, like Barbicane himself, of a fiery, dar-ing, and violent disposition; a pure Yankee.His name was Captain Nicholl; he lived atPhiladelphia.

Most people are aware of the curious strug-gle which arose during the Federal war be-tween the guns and armor of iron-platedships. The result was the entire reconstruc-tion of the navy of both the contestants; as theone grew heavier, the other became thickerin proportion. The Merrimac, the Moni-tor, the Tennessee, the Weehawken dischargedenormous projectiles themselves, after havingbeen armor-clad against the projectiles of oth-ers. In fact they did to others that which theywould not they should do to them—that grandprinciple of immortality upon which rests thewhole art of war.

Now if Barbicane was a great founder ofshot, Nicholl was a great forger of plates; theone cast night and day at Baltimore, the otherforged day and night at Philadelphia. Assoon as ever Barbicane invented a new shot,Nicholl invented a new plate; each followeda current of ideas essentially opposed to the

One Enemy v. 25 Millions of Friends 77

other. Happily for these citizens, so useful totheir country, a distance of from fifty to sixtymiles separated them from one another, andthey had never yet met. Which of these twoinventors had the advantage over the otherit was difficult to decide from the results ob-tained. By last accounts, however, it wouldseem that the armor-plate would in the endhave to give way to the shot; nevertheless,there were competent judges who had theirdoubts on the point.

At the last experiment the cylindro-conicalprojectiles of Barbicane stuck like so manypins in the Nicholl plates. On that day thePhiladelphia iron-forger then believed him-self victorious, and could not evince contemptenough for his rival; but when the other af-terward substituted for conical shot simple600-pound shells, at very moderate velocity,the captain was obliged to give in. In fact,these projectiles knocked his best metal plateto shivers.

Matters were at this stage, and victoryseemed to rest with the shot, when the warcame to an end on the very day when Nichollhad completed a new armor-plate of wroughtsteel. It was a masterpiece of its kind, andbid defiance to all the projectiles of the world.The captain had it conveyed to the Polygon atWashington, challenging the president of theGun Club to break it. Barbicane, peace havingbeen declared, declined to try the experiment.

Nicholl, now furious, offered to expose hisplate to the shock of any shot, solid, hollow,round, or conical. Refused by the president,


who did not choose to compromise his last suc-cess.

Nicholl, disgusted by this obstinacy, triedto tempt Barbicane by offering him everychance. He proposed to fix the plate withintwo hundred yards of the gun. Barbicane stillobstinate in refusal. A hundred yards? Noteven seventy-five!

“At fifty then!” roared the captain throughthe newspapers. “At twenty-five yards! and I’llstand behind!”

Barbicane returned for answer that, evenif Captain Nicholl would be so good as to standin front, he would not fire any more.

Nicholl could not contain himself at thisreply; threw out hints of cowardice; that aman who refused to fire a cannon-shot waspretty near being afraid of it; that artilleristswho fight at six miles distance are substi-tuting mathematical formulae for individualcourage.

To these insinuations Barbicane returnedno answer; perhaps he never heard of them,so absorbed was he in the calculations for hisgreat enterprise.

When his famous communication wasmade to the Gun Club, the captain’s wrathpassed all bounds; with his intense jeal-ousy was mingled a feeling of absolute impo-tence. How was he to invent anything to beatthis 900-feet Columbiad? What armor-platecould ever resist a projectile of 30,000 poundsweight? Overwhelmed at first under this vi-olent shock, he by and by recovered himself,and resolved to crush the proposal by weight


of his arguments.He then violently attacked the labors of the

Gun Club, published a number of letters inthe newspapers, endeavored to prove Barbi-cane ignorant of the first principles of gun-nery. He maintained that it was absolutelyimpossible to impress upon any body what-ever a velocity of 12,000 yards per second;that even with such a velocity a projectile ofsuch a weight could not transcend the limits ofthe earth’s atmosphere. Further still, even re-garding the velocity to be acquired, and grant-ing it to be sufficient, the shell could not re-sist the pressure of the gas developed by theignition of 1,600,000 pounds of powder; andsupposing it to resist that pressure, it wouldbe less able to support that temperature; itwould melt on quitting the Columbiad, andfall back in a red-hot shower upon the headsof the imprudent spectators.

Barbicane continued his work without re-garding these attacks.

Nicholl then took up the question in itsother aspects. Without touching upon its use-lessness in all points of view, he regarded theexperiment as fraught with extreme danger,both to the citizens, who might sanction bytheir presence so reprehensible a spectacle,and also to the towns in the neighborhood ofthis deplorable cannon. He also observed thatif the projectile did not succeed in reaching itsdestination (a result absolutely impossible), itmust inevitably fall back upon the earth, andthat the shock of such a mass, multiplied bythe square of its velocity, would seriously en-


danger every point of the globe. Under thecircumstances, therefore, and without inter-fering with the rights of free citizens, it wasa case for the intervention of Government,which ought not to endanger the safety of allfor the pleasure of one individual.

In spite of all his arguments, however,Captain Nicholl remained alone in his opin-ion. Nobody listened to him, and he did notsucceed in alienating a single admirer fromthe president of the Gun Club. The latter didnot even take the pains to refute the argu-ments of his rival.

Nicholl, driven into his last entrench-ments, and not able to fight personally in thecause, resolved to fight with money. He pub-lished, therefore, in the Richmond Inquirer aseries of wagers, conceived in these terms, andon an increasing scale:

No. 1 ($1,000).—That the necessary fundsfor the experiment of the Gun Club will not beforthcoming.

No. 2 ($2,000).—That the operation of cast-ing a cannon of 900 feet is impracticable, andcannot possibly succeed.

No. 3 ($3,000).—That is it impossible toload the Columbiad, and that the pyroxylewill take fire spontaneously under the pres-sure of the projectile.

No. 4 ($4,000).—That the Columbiad willburst at the first fire.

No. 5 ($5,000).—That the shot will nottravel farther than six miles, and that it willfall back again a few seconds after its dis-charge.


It was an important sum, therefore, whichthe captain risked in his invincible obstinacy.He had no less than $15,000 at stake.

Notwithstanding the importance of thechallenge, on the 19th of May he receiveda sealed packet containing the following su-perbly laconic reply:

“BALTIMORE, OCTOBER 19.“Done.

“BARBICANE.”

FLORIDA ANDTEXAS

One question remained yet to be decided; itwas necessary to choose a favorable spot forthe experiment. According to the advice of theObservatory of Cambridge, the gun must befired perpendicularly to the plane of the hori-zon, that is to say, toward the zenith. Nowthe moon does not traverse the zenith, exceptin places situated between 0◦ and 28◦ of lati-tude. It became, then, necessary to determineexactly that spot on the globe where the im-mense Columbiad should be cast.

On the 20th of October, at a general meet-ing of the Gun Club, Barbicane produced amagnificent map of the United States. “Gen-tlemen,” said he, in opening the discussion,“I presume that we are all agreed that thisexperiment cannot and ought not to be triedanywhere but within the limits of the soil ofthe Union. Now, by good fortune, certain fron-tiers of the United States extend downward asfar as the 28th parallel of the north latitude.If you will cast your eye over this map, youwill see that we have at our disposal the whole

83


of the southern portion of Texas and Florida.”It was finally agreed, then, that the

Columbiad must be cast on the soil of eitherTexas or Florida. The result, however, of thisdecision was to create a rivalry entirely with-out precedent between the different towns ofthese two States.

The 28th parallel, on reaching the Ameri-can coast, traverses the peninsula of Florida,dividing it into two nearly equal portions.Then, plunging into the Gulf of Mexico, itsubtends the arc formed by the coast ofAlabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana; thenskirting Texas, off which it cuts an angle, itcontinues its course over Mexico, crosses theSonora, Old California, and loses itself in thePacific Ocean. It was, therefore, only thoseportions of Texas and Florida which were sit-uated below this parallel which came withinthe prescribed conditions of latitude.

Florida, in its southern part, reckons nocities of importance; it is simply studded withforts raised against the roving Indians. Onesolitary town, Tampa Town, was able to putin a claim in favor of its situation.

In Texas, on the contrary, the towns aremuch more numerous and important. CorpusChristi, in the county of Nueces, and all thecities situated on the Rio Bravo, Laredo, Co-malites, San Ignacio on the Web, Rio GrandeCity on the Starr, Edinburgh in the Hidalgo,Santa Rita, Elpanda, Brownsville in theCameron, formed an imposing league againstthe pretensions of Florida. So, scarcely wasthe decision known, when the Texan and


Floridan deputies arrived at Baltimore in anincredibly short space of time. From thatvery moment President Barbicane and the in-fluential members of the Gun Club were be-sieged day and night by formidable claims. Ifseven cities of Greece contended for the honorof having given birth to a Homer, here weretwo entire States threatening to come to blowsabout the question of a cannon.

The rival parties promenaded the streetswith arms in their hands; and at every occa-sion of their meeting a collision was to be ap-prehended which might have been attendedwith disastrous results. Happily the prudenceand address of President Barbicane avertedthe danger. These personal demonstrationsfound a division in the newspapers of the dif-ferent States. The New York Herald and theTribune supported Texas, while the Times andthe American Review espoused the cause ofthe Floridan deputies. The members of theGun Club could not decide to which to give thepreference.

Texas produced its array of twenty-sixcounties; Florida replied that twelve countieswere better than twenty-six in a country onlyone-sixth part of the size.

Texas plumed itself upon its 330,000 na-tives; Florida, with a far smaller territory,boasted of being much more densely popu-lated with 56,000.

The Texans, through the columns of theHerald claimed that some regard should behad to a State which grew the best cottonin all America, produced the best green oak


for the service of the navy, and contained thefinest oil, besides iron mines, in which theyield was fifty per cent. of pure metal.

To this the American Review replied thatthe soil of Florida, although not equally rich,afforded the best conditions for the mouldingand casting of the Columbiad, consisting as itdid of sand and argillaceous earth.

“That may be all very well,” replied theTexans; “but you must first get to this country.Now the communications with Florida are dif-ficult, while the coast of Texas offers the bay ofGalveston, which possesses a circumference offourteen leagues, and is capable of containingthe navies of the entire world!”

“A pretty notion truly,” replied the papersin the interest of Florida, “that of Galvestonbay below the 29th parallel! Have we not gotthe bay of Espiritu Santo, opening preciselyupon the 28th degree, and by which ships canreach Tampa Town by direct route?”

“A fine bay; half choked with sand!”“Choked yourselves!” returned the others.Thus the war went on for several days,

when Florida endeavored to draw her adver-sary away on to fresh ground; and one morn-ing the Times hinted that, the enterprise be-ing essentially American, it ought not to beattempted upon other than purely Americanterritory.

To these words Texas retorted, “American!are we not as much so as you? Were not Texasand Florida both incorporated into the Unionin 1845?”

“Undoubtedly,” replied the Times; “but we


have belonged to the Americans ever since1820.”

“Yes!” returned the Tribune; “after havingbeen Spaniards or English for two hundredyears, you were sold to the United States forfive million dollars!”

“Well! and why need we blush for that?Was not Louisiana bought from Napoleon in1803 at the price of sixteen million dollars?”

“Scandalous!” roared the Texas deputies.“A wretched little strip of country like Floridato dare to compare itself to Texas, who, inplace of selling herself, asserted her own in-dependence, drove out the Mexicans in March2, 1846, and declared herself a federal repub-lic after the victory gained by Samuel Hous-ton, on the banks of the San Jacinto, overthe troops of Santa Anna!—a country, in fine,which voluntarily annexed itself to the UnitedStates of America!”

“Yes; because it was afraid of the Mexi-cans!” replied Florida.

“Afraid!” From this moment the state ofthings became intolerable. A sanguinary en-counter seemed daily imminent between thetwo parties in the streets of Baltimore. Itbecame necessary to keep an eye upon thedeputies.

President Barbicane knew not which wayto look. Notes, documents, letters full of men-aces showered down upon his house. Whichside ought he to take? As regarded the appro-priation of the soil, the facility of communica-tion, the rapidity of transport, the claims ofboth States were evenly balanced. As for po-


litical prepossessions, they had nothing to dowith the question.

This dead block had existed for some lit-tle time, when Barbicane resolved to get ridof it all at once. He called a meeting of hiscolleagues, and laid before them a propositionwhich, it will be seen, was profoundly saga-cious.

“On carefully considering,” he said, “whatis going on now between Florida and Texas,it is clear that the same difficulties will recurwith all the towns of the favored State. Therivalry will descend from State to city, and soon downward. Now Texas possesses eleventowns within the prescribed conditions, whichwill further dispute the honor and create usnew enemies, while Florida has only one. I goin, therefore, for Florida and Tampa Town.”

This decision, on being made known, ut-terly crushed the Texan deputies. Seized withan indescribable fury, they addressed threat-ening letters to the different members of theGun Club by name. The magistrates had butone course to take, and they took it. Theychartered a special train, forced the Texansinto it whether they would or no; and theyquitted the city with a speed of thirty milesan hour.

Quickly, however, as they were despatched,they found time to hurl one last and bitter sar-casm at their adversaries.

Alluding to the extent of Florida, a merepeninsula confined between two seas, theypretended that it could never sustain theshock of the discharge, and that it would “bust


up” at the very first shot.“Very well, let it bust up!” replied the Flori-

dans, with a brevity of the days of ancientSparta.

URBI ET ORBI

The astronomical, mechanical, and topo-graphical difficulties resolved, finally camethe question of finance. The sum required wasfar too great for any individual, or even anysingle State, to provide the requisite millions.

President Barbicane undertook, despite ofthe matter being a purely American affair,to render it one of universal interest, and torequest the financial co-operation of all peo-ples. It was, he maintained, the right andduty of the whole earth to interfere in the af-fairs of its satellite. The subscription openedat Baltimore extended properly to the wholeworld—Urbi et orbi.

This subscription was successful beyondall expectation; notwithstanding that it wasa question not of lending but of giving themoney. It was a purely disinterested opera-tion in the strictest sense of the term, and of-fered not the slightest chance of profit.

The effect, however, of Barbicane’s commu-nication was not confined to the frontiers ofthe United States; it crossed the Atlantic andPacific, invading simultaneously Asia and Eu-rope, Africa and Oceanica. The observatories

91


of the Union placed themselves in immedi-ate communication with those of foreign coun-tries. Some, such as those of Paris, Peters-burg, Berlin, Stockholm, Hamburg, Malta,Lisbon, Benares, Madras, and others, trans-mitted their good wishes; the rest maintaineda prudent silence, quietly awaiting the result.As for the observatory at Greenwich, secondedas it was by the twenty-two astronomical es-tablishments of Great Britain, it spoke plainlyenough. It boldly denied the possibility of suc-cess, and pronounced in favor of the theoriesof Captain Nicholl. But this was nothing morethan mere English jealousy.

On the 8th of October President Barbicanepublished a manifesto full of enthusiasm, inwhich he made an appeal to “all persons ofgood will upon the face of the earth.” Thisdocument, translated into all languages, metwith immense success.

Subscription lists were opened in all theprincipal cities of the Union, with a centraloffice at the Baltimore Bank, 9 BaltimoreStreet.

In addition, subscriptions were received atthe following banks in the different states ofthe two continents:

At Vienna, with S. M. de Rothschild.At Petersburg, Stieglitz and Co.At Paris, The Credit Mobilier.At Stockholm, Tottie and Arfuredson.At London, N. M. Rothschild and Son.At Turin, Ardouin and Co.At Berlin, Mendelssohn.At Geneva, Lombard, Odier and Co.

Urbi et Orbi 93

At Constantinople, The Ottoman Bank.At Brussels, J. Lambert.At Madrid, Daniel Weisweller.At Amsterdam, Netherlands Credit Co.At Rome, Torlonia and Co.At Lisbon, Lecesne.At Copenhagen, Private Bank.At Rio de Janeiro, Private Bank.At Montevideo, Private Bank.At Valparaiso & Lima, Thomas la Chambre & Co.At Mexico, Martin Daran and Co.

Three days after the manifesto of PresidentBarbicane $4,000,000 were paid into the dif-ferent towns of the Union. With such a bal-ance the Gun Club might begin operations atonce. But some days later advices were re-ceived to the effect that foreign subscriptionswere being eagerly taken up. Certain coun-tries distinguished themselves by their liber-ality; others untied their purse-strings withless facility—a matter of temperament. Fig-ures are, however, more eloquent than words,and here is the official statement of the sumswhich were paid in to the credit of the GunClub at the close of the subscription.

Russia paid in as her contingent the enor-mous sum of 368,733 roubles. No one needbe surprised at this, who bears in mind thescientific taste of the Russians, and the im-petus which they have given to astronomicalstudies—thanks to their numerous observato-ries.

France began by deriding the pretensionsof the Americans. The moon served as a pre-text for a thousand stale puns and a score ofballads, in which bad taste contested the palm


with ignorance. But as formerly the Frenchpaid before singing, so now they paid afterhaving had their laugh, and they subscribedfor a sum of 1,253,930 francs. At that pricethey had a right to enjoy themselves a little.

Austria showed herself generous in themidst of her financial crisis. Her public con-tributions amounted to the sum of 216,000florins—a perfect godsend.

Fifty-two thousand rix-dollars were the re-mittance of Sweden and Norway; the amountis large for the country, but it would undoubt-edly have been considerably increased had thesubscription been opened in Christiana simul-taneously with that at Stockholm. For somereason or other the Norwegians do not like tosend their money to Sweden.

Prussia, by a remittance of 250,000thalers, testified her high approval of the en-terprise.

Turkey behaved generously; but she had apersonal interest in the matter. The moon, infact, regulates the cycle of her years and herfast of Ramadan. She could not do less thangive 1,372,640 piastres; and she gave themwith an eagerness which denoted, however,some pressure on the part of the government.

Belgium distinguished herself among thesecond-rate states by a grant of 513,000francs—about two centimes per head of herpopulation.

Holland and her colonies interested them-selves to the extent of 110,000 florins, onlydemanding an allowance of five per cent. dis-count for paying ready money.

Urbi et Orbi 95

Denmark, a little contracted in territory,gave nevertheless 9,000 ducats, proving herlove for scientific experiments.

The Germanic Confederation pledged itselfto 34,285 florins. It was impossible to ask formore; besides, they would not have given it.

Though very much crippled, Italy found200,000 lire in the pockets of her people. Ifshe had had Venetia she would have done bet-ter; but she had not.

The States of the Church thought that theycould not send less than 7,040 Roman crowns;and Portugal carried her devotion to scienceas far as 30,000 cruzados. It was the widow’smite—eighty-six piastres; but self-constitutedempires are always rather short of money.

Two hundred and fifty-seven francs, thiswas the modest contribution of Switzerland tothe American work. One must freely admitthat she did not see the practical side of thematter. It did not seem to her that the meredespatch of a shot to the moon could possiblyestablish any relation of affairs with her; andit did not seem prudent to her to embark hercapital in so hazardous an enterprise. Afterall, perhaps she was right.

As to Spain, she could not scrape togethermore than 110 reals. She gave as an excusethat she had her railways to finish. The truthis, that science is not favorably regarded inthat country, it is still in a backward state;and moreover, certain Spaniards, not by anymeans the least educated, did not form a cor-rect estimate of the bulk of the projectile com-pared with that of the moon. They feared


that it would disturb the established order ofthings. In that case it were better to keepaloof; which they did to the tune of some re-als.

There remained but England; and weknow the contemptuous antipathy with whichshe received Barbicane’s proposition. The En-glish have but one soul for the whole twenty-six millions of inhabitants which GreatBritain contains. They hinted that the en-terprise of the Gun Club was contrary to the“principle of non-intervention.” And they didnot subscribe a single farthing.

At this intimation the Gun Club merelyshrugged its shoulders and returned to itsgreat work. When South America, that is tosay, Peru, Chili, Brazil, the provinces of LaPlata and Columbia, had poured forth theirquota into their hands, the sum of $300,000,it found itself in possession of a considerablecapital, of which the following is a statement:

United States subscriptions $4,000,000Foreign subscriptions $1,446,675Total $5,446,675

Such was the sum which the public pouredinto the treasury of the Gun Club.

Let no one be surprised at the vastnessof the amount. The work of casting, boring,masonry, the transport of workmen, their es-tablishment in an almost uninhabited coun-try, the construction of furnaces and work-shops, the plant, the powder, the projectile,and incipient expenses, would, according to

Urbi et Orbi 97

the estimates, absorb nearly the whole. Cer-tain cannon-shots in the Federal war cost onethousand dollars apiece. This one of PresidentBarbicane, unique in the annals of gunnery,might well cost five thousand times more.

On the 20th of October a contract wasentered into with the manufactory at Cold-spring, near New York, which during the warhad furnished the largest Parrott, cast-ironguns. It was stipulated between the con-tracting parties that the manufactory of Cold-spring should engage to transport to TampaTown, in southern Florida, the necessary ma-terials for casting the Columbiad. The workwas bound to be completed at latest by the15th of October following, and the cannon de-livered in good condition under penalty of aforfeit of one hundred dollars a day to themoment when the moon should again presentherself under the same conditions—that is tosay, in eighteen years and eleven days.

The engagement of the workmen, theirpay, and all the necessary details of the work,devolved upon the Coldspring Company.

This contract, executed in duplicate, wassigned by Barbicane, president of the GunClub, of the one part, and T. Murchison di-rector of the Coldspring manufactory, of theother, who thus executed the deed on behalf oftheir respective principals.

STONES HILL

When the decision was arrived at by the GunClub, to the disparagement of Texas, everyone in America, where reading is a universalacquirement, set to work to study the geogra-phy of Florida. Never before had there beensuch a sale for works like “Bertram’s Trav-els in Florida,” “Roman’s Natural History ofEast and West Florida,” “William’s Territoryof Florida,” and “Cleland on the Cultivation ofthe Sugar-Cane in Florida.” It became neces-sary to issue fresh editions of these works.

Barbicane had something better to do thanto read. He desired to see things with his owneyes, and to mark the exact position of theproposed gun. So, without a moment’s loss oftime, he placed at the disposal of the Cam-bridge Observatory the funds necessary forthe construction of a telescope, and enteredinto negotiations with the house of Breadwilland Co., of Albany, for the construction of analuminum projectile of the required size. Hethen quitted Baltimore, accompanied by J. T.Maston, Major Elphinstone, and the managerof the Coldspring factory.

On the following day, the four fellow-

99


travelers arrived at New Orleans. There theyimmediately embarked on board the Tampico,a despatch-boat belonging to the Federal navy,which the government had placed at their dis-posal; and, getting up steam, the banks ofLouisiana speedily disappeared from sight.

The passage was not long. Two days af-ter starting, the Tampico, having made fourhundred and eighty miles, came in sight of thecoast of Florida. On a nearer approach Barbi-cane found himself in view of a low, flat coun-try of somewhat barren aspect. After coast-ing along a series of creeks abounding in lob-sters and oysters, the Tampico entered thebay of Espiritu Santo, where she finally an-chored in a small natural harbor, formed bythe embouchure of the River Hillisborough, atseven P.M., on the 22d of October.

Our four passengers disembarked at once.“Gentlemen,” said Barbicane, “we have notime to lose; tomorrow we must obtain horses,and proceed to reconnoiter the country.”

Barbicane had scarcely set his foot onshore when three thousand of the inhabitantsof Tampa Town came forth to meet him, anhonor due to the president who had signalizedtheir country by his choice.

Declining, however, every kind of ovation,Barbicane ensconced himself in a room of theFranklin Hotel.

On the morrow some of the small horsesof the Spanish breed, full of vigor and of fire,stood snorting under his windows; but insteadof four steeds, here were fifty, together withtheir riders. Barbicane descended with his

Stones Hill 101

three fellow-travelers; and much astonishedwere they all to find themselves in the midstof such a cavalcade. He remarked that everyhorseman carried a carbine slung across hisshoulders and pistols in his holsters.

On expressing his surprise at these prepa-rations, he was speedily enlightened by ayoung Floridan, who quietly said:

“Sir, there are Seminoles there.”“What do you mean by Seminoles?”“Savages who scour the prairies. We

thought it best, therefore, to escort you onyour road.”

“Pooh!” cried J. T. Maston, mounting hissteed.

“All right,” said the Floridan; “but it is trueenough, nevertheless.”

“Gentlemen,” answered Barbicane, “Ithank you for your kind attention; but it istime to be off.”

It was five A.M. when Barbicane and hisparty, quitting Tampa Town, made their wayalong the coast in the direction of Alifia Creek.This little river falls into Hillisborough Baytwelve miles above Tampa Town. Barbicaneand his escort coasted along its right bank tothe eastward. Soon the waves of the bay dis-appeared behind a bend of rising ground, andthe Floridan “champagne” alone offered itselfto view.

Florida, discovered on Palm Sunday, in1512, by Juan Ponce de Leon, was originallynamed Pascha Florida. It little deserved thatdesignation, with its dry and parched coasts.But after some few miles of tract the nature


of the soil gradually changes and the countryshows itself worthy of the name. Cultivatedplains soon appear, where are united all theproductions of the northern and tropical flo-ras, terminating in prairies abounding withpineapples and yams, tobacco, rice, cotton-plants, and sugar-canes, which extend beyondreach of sight, flinging their riches broadcastwith careless prodigality.

Barbicane appeared highly pleased on ob-serving the progressive elevation of the land;and in answer to a question of J. T. Maston,replied:

“My worthy friend, we cannot do bet-ter than sink our Columbiad in these highgrounds.”

“To get nearer the moon, perhaps?” saidthe secretary of the Gun Club.

“Not exactly,” replied Barbicane, smiling;“do you not see that among these elevatedplateaus we shall have a much easier work ofit? No struggles with the water-springs, whichwill save us long expensive tubings; and weshall be working in daylight instead of down adeep and narrow well. Our business, then, isto open our trenches upon ground some hun-dreds of yards above the level of the sea.”

“You are right, sir,” struck in Murchison,the engineer; “and, if I mistake not, we shallere long find a suitable spot for our purpose.”

“I wish we were at the first stroke of thepickaxe,” said the president.

“And I wish we were at the last,” cried J. T.Maston.

About ten A.M. the little band had crossed

Stones Hill 103

a dozen miles. To fertile plains succeededa region of forests. There perfumes of themost varied kinds mingled together in trop-ical profusion. These almost impenetra-ble forests were composed of pomegranates,orange-trees, citrons, figs, olives, apricots, ba-nanas, huge vines, whose blossoms and fruitsrivaled each other in color and perfume. Be-neath the odorous shade of these magnificenttrees fluttered and warbled a little world ofbrilliantly plumaged birds.

J. T. Maston and the major could not re-press their admiration on finding themselvesin the presence of the glorious beauties of thiswealth of nature. President Barbicane, how-ever, less sensitive to these wonders, was inhaste to press forward; the very luxurianceof the country was displeasing to him. Theyhastened onward, therefore, and were com-pelled to ford several rivers, not without dan-ger, for they were infested with huge alliga-tors from fifteen to eighteen feet long. Mas-ton courageously menaced them with his steelhook, but he only succeeded in frighteningsome pelicans and teal, while tall flamingosstared stupidly at the party.

At length these denizens of the swampsdisappeared in their turn; smaller treesbecame thinly scattered among less densethickets—a few isolated groups detached inthe midst of endless plains over which rangedherds of startled deer.

“At last,” cried Barbicane, rising in his stir-rups, “here we are at the region of pines!”

“Yes! and of savages too,” replied the major.


In fact, some Seminoles had just came insight upon the horizon; they rode violentlybackward and forward on their fleet horses,brandishing their spears or discharging theirguns with a dull report. These hostile demon-strations, however, had no effect upon Barbi-cane and his companions.

They were then occupying the center of arocky plain, which the sun scorched with itsparching rays. This was formed by a con-siderable elevation of the soil, which seemedto offer to the members of the Gun Club allthe conditions requisite for the construction oftheir Columbiad.

“Halt!” said Barbicane, reining up. “Hasthis place any local appellation?”

“It is called Stones Hill,” replied one of theFloridans.

Barbicane, without saying a word, dis-mounted, seized his instruments, and beganto note his position with extreme exactness.The little band, drawn up in the rear, watchedhis proceedings in profound silence.

At this moment the sun passed the merid-ian. Barbicane, after a few moments, rapidlywrote down the result of his observations, andsaid:

“This spot is situated eighteen hundredfeet above the level of the sea, in 27◦ 7’ N. lat.and 5◦ 7’ W. long. of the meridian of Washing-ton. It appears to me by its rocky and bar-ren character to offer all the conditions requi-site for our experiment. On that plain will beraised our magazines, workshops, furnaces,and workmen’s huts; and here, from this very

Stones Hill 105

spot,” said he, stamping his foot on the sum-mit of Stones Hill, “hence shall our projectiletake its flight into the regions of the SolarWorld.”

PICKAXE ANDTROWEL

The same evening Barbicane and his compan-ions returned to Tampa Town; and Murchi-son, the engineer, re-embarked on board theTampico for New Orleans. His object was toenlist an army of workmen, and to collect to-gether the greater part of the materials. Themembers of the Gun Club remained at TampaTown, for the purpose of setting on foot thepreliminary works by the aid of the people ofthe country.

Eight days after its departure, theTampico returned into the bay of EspirituSanto, with a whole flotilla of steamboats.Murchison had succeeded in assembling to-gether fifteen hundred artisans. Attractedby the high pay and considerable bountiesoffered by the Gun Club, he had enlisted achoice legion of stokers, iron-founders, lime-burners, miners, brickmakers, and artisans ofevery trade, without distinction of color. Asmany of these people brought their familieswith them, their departure resembled a per-fect emigration.

107


On the 31st of October, at ten o’clock in themorning, the troop disembarked on the quaysof Tampa Town; and one may imagine the ac-tivity which pervaded that little town, whosepopulation was thus doubled in a single day.

During the first few days they were busydischarging the cargo brought by the flotilla,the machines, and the rations, as well asa large number of huts constructed of ironplates, separately pieced and numbered. Atthe same period Barbicane laid the first sleep-ers of a railway fifteen miles in length, in-tended to unite Stones Hill with Tampa Town.On the first of November Barbicane quittedTampa Town with a detachment of workmen;and on the following day the whole town ofhuts was erected round Stones Hill. This theyenclosed with palisades; and in respect of en-ergy and activity, it might have been mistakenfor one of the great cities of the Union. Every-thing was placed under a complete system ofdiscipline, and the works were commenced inmost perfect order.

The nature of the soil having been care-fully examined, by means of repeated borings,the work of excavation was fixed for the 4th ofNovember.

On that day Barbicane called together hisforemen and addressed them as follows: “Youare well aware, my friends, of the object withwhich I have assembled you together in thiswild part of Florida. Our business is to con-struct a cannon measuring nine feet in itsinterior diameter, six feet thick, and with astone revetment of nineteen and a half feet in


thickness. We have, therefore, a well of sixtyfeet in diameter to dig down to a depth of ninehundred feet. This great work must be com-pleted within eight months, so that you have2,543,400 cubic feet of earth to excavate in 255days; that is to say, in round numbers, 2,000cubic feet per day. That which would presentno difficulty to a thousand navvies working inopen country will be of course more trouble-some in a comparatively confined space. How-ever, the thing must be done, and I reckonfor its accomplishment upon your courage asmuch as upon your skill.”

At eight o’clock the next morning the firststroke of the pickaxe was struck upon the soilof Florida; and from that moment that princeof tools was never inactive for one moment inthe hands of the excavators. The gangs re-lieved each other every three hours.

On the 4th of November fifty workmencommenced digging, in the very center of theenclosed space on the summit of Stones Hill, acircular hole sixty feet in diameter. The pick-axe first struck upon a kind of black earth,six inches in thickness, which was speedilydisposed of. To this earth succeeded twofeet of fine sand, which was carefully laidaside as being valuable for serving the cast-ing of the inner mould. After the sand ap-peared some compact white clay, resemblingthe chalk of Great Britain, which extendeddown to a depth of four feet. Then the ironof the picks struck upon the hard bed of thesoil; a kind of rock formed of petrified shells,very dry, very solid, and which the picks could


with difficulty penetrate. At this point the ex-cavation exhibited a depth of six and a halffeet and the work of the masonry was begun.

At the bottom of the excavation they con-structed a wheel of oak, a kind of circlestrongly bolted together, and of immensestrength. The center of this wooden disc washollowed out to a diameter equal to the ex-terior diameter of the Columbiad. Upon thiswheel rested the first layers of the masonry,the stones of which were bound together byhydraulic cement, with irresistible tenacity.The workmen, after laying the stones fromthe circumference to the center, were thus en-closed within a kind of well twenty-one feet indiameter. When this work was accomplished,the miners resumed their picks and cut awaythe rock from underneath the wheel itself,taking care to support it as they advancedupon blocks of great thickness. At every twofeet which the hole gained in depth they suc-cessively withdrew the blocks. The wheel thensank little by little, and with it the massivering of masonry, on the upper bed of which themasons labored incessantly, always reservingsome vent holes to permit the escape of gasduring the operation of the casting.

This kind of work required on the part ofthe workmen extreme nicety and minute at-tention. More than one, in digging under-neath the wheel, was dangerously injured bythe splinters of stone. But their ardor neverrelaxed, night or day. By day they worked un-der the rays of the scorching sun; by night, un-der the gleam of the electric light. The sounds


of the picks against the rock, the burstingof mines, the grinding of the machines, thewreaths of smoke scattered through the air,traced around Stones Hill a circle of terrorwhich the herds of buffaloes and the war par-ties of the Seminoles never ventured to pass.Nevertheless, the works advanced regularly,as the steam-cranes actively removed the rub-bish. Of unexpected obstacles there was littleaccount; and with regard to foreseen difficul-ties, they were speedily disposed of.

At the expiration of the first month thewell had attained the depth assigned for thatlapse of time, namely, 112 feet. This depthwas doubled in December, and trebled in Jan-uary.

During the month of February the work-men had to contend with a sheet of waterwhich made its way right across the outer soil.It became necessary to employ very powerfulpumps and compressed-air engines to drain itoff, so as to close up the orifice from whenceit issued; just as one stops a leak on boardship. They at last succeeded in getting the up-per hand of these untoward streams; only, inconsequence of the loosening of the soil, thewheel partly gave way, and a slight partialsettlement ensued. This accident cost the lifeof several workmen.

No fresh occurrence thenceforward ar-rested the progress of the operation; and onthe tenth of June, twenty days before the ex-piration of the period fixed by Barbicane, thewell, lined throughout with its facing of stone,had attained the depth of 900 feet. At the bot-


tom the masonry rested upon a massive blockmeasuring thirty feet in thickness, while onthe upper portion it was level with the sur-rounding soil.

President Barbicane and the members ofthe Gun Club warmly congratulated their en-gineer Murchison; the cyclopean work hadbeen accomplished with extraordinary rapid-ity.

During these eight months Barbicanenever quitted Stones Hill for a single instant.Keeping ever close by the work of excavation,he busied himself incessantly with the welfareand health of his workpeople, and was singu-larly fortunate in warding off the epidemicscommon to large communities of men, and sodisastrous in those regions of the globe whichare exposed to the influences of tropical cli-mates.

Many workmen, it is true, paid with theirlives for the rashness inherent in these dan-gerous labors; but these mishaps are impossi-ble to be avoided, and they are classed amongthe details with which the Americans troublethemselves but little. They have in fact moreregard for human nature in general than forthe individual in particular.

Nevertheless, Barbicane professed oppo-site principles to these, and put them inforce at every opportunity. So, thanks to hiscare, his intelligence, his useful interventionin all difficulties, his prodigious and humanesagacity, the average of accidents did not ex-ceed that of transatlantic countries, notedfor their excessive precautions—France, for


instance, among others, where they reckonabout one accident for every two hundredthousand francs of work.

THE FÊTE OF THECASTING

During the eight months which were em-ployed in the work of excavation the prepara-tory works of the casting had been carriedon simultaneously with extreme rapidity. Astranger arriving at Stones Hill would havebeen surprised at the spectacle offered to hisview.

At 600 yards from the well, and circularlyarranged around it as a central point, rose1,200 reverberating ovens, each six feet in di-ameter, and separated from each other by aninterval of three feet. The circumference occu-pied by these 1,200 ovens presented a lengthof two miles. Being all constructed on thesame plan, each with its high quadrangularchimney, they produced a most singular effect.

It will be remembered that on their thirdmeeting the committee had decided to usecast iron for the Columbiad, and in particu-lar the white description. This metal, in fact,is the most tenacious, the most ductile, andthe most malleable, and consequently suit-able for all moulding operations; and when

115


smelted with pit coal, is of superior qualityfor all engineering works requiring great re-sisting power, such as cannon, steam boilers,hydraulic presses, and the like.

Cast iron, however, if subjected to onlyone single fusion, is rarely sufficiently ho-mogeneous; and it requires a second fusioncompletely to refine it by dispossessing it ofits last earthly deposits. So long before be-ing forwarded to Tampa Town, the iron ore,molten in the great furnaces of Coldspring,and brought into contact with coal and sili-cium heated to a high temperature, was car-burized and transformed into cast iron. Afterthis first operation, the metal was sent on toStones Hill. They had, however, to deal with136,000,000 pounds of iron, a quantity far toocostly to send by railway. The cost of transportwould have been double that of material. Itappeared preferable to freight vessels at NewYork, and to load them with the iron in bars.This, however, required not less than sixty-eight vessels of 1,000 tons, a veritable fleet,which, quitting New York on the 3rd of May,on the 10th of the same month ascended theBay of Espiritu Santo, and discharged theircargoes, without dues, in the port at TampaTown. Thence the iron was transported byrail to Stones Hill, and about the middle ofJanuary this enormous mass of metal was de-livered at its destination.

It will easily be understood that 1,200furnaces were not too many to melt simul-taneously these 60,000 tons of iron. Eachof these furnaces contained nearly 140,000


pounds weight of metal. They were all builtafter the model of those which served for thecasting of the Rodman gun; they were trape-zoidal in shape, with a high elliptical arch.These furnaces, constructed of fireproof brick,were especially adapted for burning pit coal,with a flat bottom upon which the iron barswere laid. This bottom, inclined at an angleof 25 degrees, allowed the metal to flow intothe receiving troughs; and the 1,200 converg-ing trenches carried the molten metal down tothe central well.

The day following that on which the worksof the masonry and boring had been com-pleted, Barbicane set to work upon the cen-tral mould. His object now was to raise withinthe center of the well, and with a coincidentaxis, a cylinder 900 feet high, and nine feetin diameter, which should exactly fill up thespace reserved for the bore of the Columbiad.This cylinder was composed of a mixture ofclay and sand, with the addition of a little hayand straw. The space left between the mouldand the masonry was intended to be filled upby the molten metal, which would thus formthe walls six feet in thickness. This cylin-der, in order to maintain its equilibrium, hadto be bound by iron bands, and firmly fixedat certain intervals by cross-clamps fastenedinto the stone lining; after the castings thesewould be buried in the block of metal, leavingno external projection.

This operation was completed on the 8th ofJuly, and the run of the metal was fixed for thefollowing day.


“This féte of the casting will be a grand cer-emony,” said J. T. Maston to his friend Barbi-cane.

“Undoubtedly,” said Barbicane; “but it willnot be a public féte.”

“What! will you not open the gates of theenclosure to all comers?”

“I must be very careful, Maston. The cast-ing of the Columbiad is an extremely delicate,not to say a dangerous operation, and I shouldprefer its being done privately. At the dis-charge of the projectile, a féte if you like—tillthen, no!”

The president was right. The operation in-volved unforeseen dangers, which a great in-flux of spectators would have hindered himfrom averting. It was necessary to preservecomplete freedom of movement. No one wasadmitted within the enclosure except a dele-gation of members of the Gun Club, who hadmade the voyage to Tampa Town. Amongthese was the brisk Bilsby, Tom Hunter,Colonel Blomsberry, Major Elphinstone, Gen-eral Morgan, and the rest of the lot to whomthe casting of the Columbiad was a matter ofpersonal interest. J. T. Maston became theircicerone. He omitted no point of detail; he con-ducted them throughout the magazines, work-shops, through the midst of the engines, andcompelled them to visit the whole 1,200 fur-naces one after the other. At the end of thetwelve-hundredth visit they were pretty wellknocked up.

The casting was to take place at twelveo’clock precisely. The previous evening


each furnace had been charged with 114,000pounds weight of metal in bars disposed cross-ways to each other, so as to allow the hotair to circulate freely between them. At day-break the 1,200 chimneys vomited their tor-rents of flame into the air, and the groundwas agitated with dull tremblings. As manypounds of metal as there were to cast, so manypounds of coal were there to burn. Thus therewere 68,000 tons of coal which projected inthe face of the sun a thick curtain of smoke.The heat soon became insupportable withinthe circle of furnaces, the rumbling of whichresembled the rolling of thunder. The power-ful ventilators added their continuous blastsand saturated with oxygen the glowing plates.The operation, to be successful, required to beconducted with great rapidity. On a signalgiven by a cannon-shot each furnace was togive vent to the molten iron and completely toempty itself. These arrangements made, fore-men and workmen waited the preconcertedmoment with an impatience mingled with acertain amount of emotion. Not a soul re-mained within the enclosure. Each superin-tendent took his post by the aperture of therun.

Barbicane and his colleagues, perched ona neighboring eminence, assisted at the oper-ation. In front of them was a piece of artilleryready to give fire on the signal from the en-gineer. Some minutes before midday the firstdriblets of metal began to flow; the reservoirsfilled little by little; and, by the time that thewhole melting was completely accomplished,


it was kept in abeyance for a few minutesin order to facilitate the separation of foreignsubstances.

Twelve o’clock struck! A gunshot sud-denly pealed forth and shot its flame into theair. Twelve hundred melting-troughs weresimultaneously opened and twelve hundredfiery serpents crept toward the central well,unrolling their incandescent curves. There,down they plunged with a terrific noise intoa depth of 900 feet. It was an exciting and amagnificent spectacle. The ground trembled,while these molten waves, launching into thesky their wreaths of smoke, evaporated themoisture of the mould and hurled it upwardthrough the vent-holes of the stone lining inthe form of dense vapor-clouds. These arti-ficial clouds unrolled their thick spirals to aheight of 1,000 yards into the air. A sav-age, wandering somewhere beyond the lim-its of the horizon, might have believed thatsome new crater was forming in the bosom ofFlorida, although there was neither any erup-tion, nor typhoon, nor storm, nor struggle ofthe elements, nor any of those terrible phe-nomena which nature is capable of producing.No, it was man alone who had produced thesereddish vapors, these gigantic flames worthyof a volcano itself, these tremendous vibra-tions resembling the shock of an earthquake,these reverberations rivaling those of hurri-canes and storms; and it was his hand whichprecipitated into an abyss, dug by himself, awhole Niagara of molten metal!

THE COLUMBIAD

Had the casting succeeded? They were re-duced to mere conjecture. There was in-deed every reason to expect success, since themould has absorbed the entire mass of themolten metal; still some considerable timemust elapse before they could arrive at anycertainty upon the matter.

The patience of the members of the GunClub was sorely tried during this period oftime. But they could do nothing. J. T. Mastonescaped roasting by a miracle. Fifteen days af-ter the casting an immense column of smokewas still rising in the open sky and the groundburned the soles of the feet within a radius oftwo hundred feet round the summit of StonesHill. It was impossible to approach nearer. Allthey could do was to wait with what patiencethey might.

“Here we are at the 10th of August,” ex-claimed J. T. Maston one morning, “only fourmonths to the 1st of December! We shallnever be ready in time!” Barbicane said noth-ing, but his silence covered serious irritation.

However, daily observations revealed acertain change going on in the state of the

121


ground. About the 15th of August the vaporsejected had sensibly diminished in intensityand thickness. Some days afterward the earthexhaled only a slight puff of smoke, the lastbreath of the monster enclosed within its cir-cle of stone. Little by little the belt of heatcontracted, until on the 22nd of August, Bar-bicane, his colleagues, and the engineer wereenabled to set foot on the iron sheet which laylevel upon the summit of Stones Hill.

“At last!” exclaimed the president of theGun Club, with an immense sigh of relief.

The work was resumed the same day.They proceeded at once to extract the interiormould, for the purpose of clearing out the bor-ing of the piece. Pickaxes and boring ironswere set to work without intermission. Theclayey and sandy soils had acquired extremehardness under the action of the heat; but, bythe aid of the machines, the rubbish on be-ing dug out was rapidly carted away on rail-way wagons; and such was the ardor of thework, so persuasive the arguments of Barbi-cane’s dollars, that by the 3rd of September alltraces of the mould had entirely disappeared.

Immediately the operation of boring wascommenced; and by the aid of powerful ma-chines, a few weeks later, the inner surfaceof the immense tube had been rendered per-fectly cylindrical, and the bore of the piece hadacquired a thorough polish.

At length, on the 22d of September, lessthan a twelvemonth after Barbicane’s origi-nal proposition, the enormous weapon, accu-rately bored, and exactly vertically pointed,

The Columbiad 123

was ready for work. There was only the moonnow to wait for; and they were pretty surethat she would not fail in the rendezvous.

The ecstasy of J. T. Maston knew nobounds, and he narrowly escaped a frightfulfall while staring down the tube. But for thestrong hand of Colonel Blomsberry, the wor-thy secretary, like a modern Erostratus, wouldhave found his death in the depths of theColumbiad.

The cannon was then finished; there wasno possible doubt as to its perfect completion.So, on the 6th of October, Captain Nichollopened an account between himself and Pres-ident Barbicane, in which he debited himselfto the latter in the sum of two thousand dol-lars. One may believe that the captain’s wrathwas increased to its highest point, and musthave made him seriously ill. However, he hadstill three bets of three, four, and five thou-sand dollars, respectively; and if he gainedtwo out of these, his position would not be verybad. But the money question did not enterinto his calculations; it was the success of hisrival in casting a cannon against which ironplates sixty feet thick would have been inef-fectual, that dealt him a terrible blow.

After the 23rd of September the enclosureof Stones hill was thrown open to the public;and it will be easily imagined what was theconcourse of visitors to this spot! There wasan incessant flow of people to and from TampaTown and the place, which resembled a pro-cession, or rather, in fact, a pilgrimage.

It was already clear to be seen that, on the


day of the experiment itself, the aggregate ofspectators would be counted by millions; forthey were already arriving from all parts ofthe earth upon this narrow strip of promon-tory. Europe was emigrating to America.

Up to that time, however, it must be con-fessed, the curiosity of the numerous comerswas but scantily gratified. Most had countedupon witnessing the spectacle of the cast-ing, and they were treated to nothing butsmoke. This was sorry food for hungry eyes;but Barbicane would admit no one to that op-eration. Then ensued grumbling, discontent,murmurs; they blamed the president, taxedhim with dictatorial conduct. His proceedingswere declared “un-American.” There was verynearly a riot round Stones Hill; but Barbi-cane remained inflexible. When, however, theColumbiad was entirely finished, this state ofclosed doors could no longer be maintained;besides it would have been bad taste, and evenimprudence, to affront the public feeling. Bar-bicane, therefore, opened the enclosure to allcomers; but, true to his practical disposition,he determined to coin money out of the publiccuriosity.

It was something, indeed, to be enabled tocontemplate this immense Columbiad; but todescend into its depths, this seemed to theAmericans the ne plus ultra of earthly felic-ity. Consequently, there was not one curiousspectator who was not willing to give him-self the treat of visiting the interior of thisgreat metallic abyss. Baskets suspended fromsteam-cranes permitted them to satisfy their

The Columbiad 125

curiosity. There was a perfect mania. Women,children, old men, all made it a point of dutyto penetrate the mysteries of the colossal gun.The fare for the descent was fixed at five dol-lars per head; and despite this high charge,during the two months which preceded theexperiment, the influx of visitors enabled theGun Club to pocket nearly five hundred thou-sand dollars!

It is needless to say that the first visitors ofthe Columbiad were the members of the GunClub. This privilege was justly reserved forthat illustrious body. The ceremony took placeon the 25th of September. A basket of honortook down the president, J. T. Maston, MajorElphinstone, General Morgan, Colonel Bloms-berry, and other members of the club, to thenumber of ten in all. How hot it was at thebottom of that long tube of metal! They werehalf suffocated. But what delight! What ec-stasy! A table had been laid with six coverson the massive stone which formed the bot-tom of the Columbiad, and lighted by a jet ofelectric light resembling that of day itself. Nu-merous exquisite dishes, which seemed to de-scend from heaven, were placed successivelybefore the guests, and the richest wines ofFrance flowed in profusion during this splen-did repast, served nine hundred feet beneaththe surface of the earth!

The festival was animated, not to saysomewhat noisy. Toasts flew backward andforward. They drank to the earth and to hersatellite, to the Gun Club, the Union, theMoon, Diana, Phoebe, Selene, the “peaceful


courier of the night!” All the hurrahs, carriedupward upon the sonorous waves of the im-mense acoustic tube, arrived with the soundof thunder at its mouth; and the multituderanged round Stones Hill heartily united theirshouts with those of the ten revelers hid-den from view at the bottom of the giganticColumbiad.

J. T. Maston was no longer master of him-self. Whether he shouted or gesticulated, ateor drank most, would be a difficult matter todetermine. At all events, he would not havegiven his place up for an empire, “not even ifthe cannon—loaded, primed, and fired at thatvery moment—were to blow him in pieces intothe planetary world.”

A TELEGRAPHICDISPATCH

The great works undertaken by the Gun Clubhad now virtually come to an end; and twomonths still remained before the day for thedischarge of the shot to the moon. To the gen-eral impatience these two months appeared aslong as years! Hitherto the smallest detailsof the operation had been daily chronicled bythe journals, which the public devoured witheager eyes.

Just at this moment a circumstance, themost unexpected, the most extraordinary andincredible, occurred to rouse afresh theirpanting spirits, and to throw every mind intoa state of the most violent excitement.

One day, the 30th of September, at 3:47P.M., a telegram, transmitted by cable fromValentia (Ireland) to Newfoundland and theAmerican Mainland, arrived at the address ofPresident Barbicane.

The president tore open the envelope, readthe dispatch, and, despite his remarkablepowers of self-control, his lips turned paleand his eyes grew dim, on reading the twenty

127


words of this telegram.Here is the text of the dispatch, which fig-

ures now in the archives of the Gun Club:

FRANCE, PARIS,30 September, 4 A.M.Barbicane,Tampa Town, Florida,United States.

Substitute for your sphericalshell a cylindro-conical projectile.I shall go inside. Shall arrive bysteamer Atlanta.

MICHEL ARDAN.

THE PASSENGEROF THE ATLANTA

If this astounding news, instead of flyingthrough the electric wires, had simply arrivedby post in the ordinary sealed envelope, Barbi-cane would not have hesitated a moment. Hewould have held his tongue about it, both as ameasure of prudence, and in order not to haveto reconsider his plans. This telegram mightbe a cover for some jest, especially as it camefrom a Frenchman. What human being wouldever have conceived the idea of such a jour-ney? and, if such a person really existed, hemust be an idiot, whom one would shut up ina lunatic ward, rather than within the wallsof the projectile.

The contents of the dispatch, however,speedily became known; for the telegraphicofficials possessed but little discretion, andMichel Ardan’s proposition ran at oncethroughout the several States of the Union.Barbicane, had, therefore, no further motivesfor keeping silence. Consequently, he calledtogether such of his colleagues as were at themoment in Tampa Town, and without any ex-

129


pression of his own opinions simply read tothem the laconic text itself. It was receivedwith every possible variety of expressions ofdoubt, incredulity, and derision from everyone, with the exception of J. T. Maston, whoexclaimed, “It is a grand idea, however!”

When Barbicane originally proposed tosend a shot to the moon every one lookedupon the enterprise as simple and practica-ble enough—a mere question of gunnery; butwhen a person, professing to be a reasonablebeing, offered to take passage within the pro-jectile, the whole thing became a farce, or, inplainer language a humbug.

One question, however, remained. Didsuch a being exist? This telegram flashedacross the depths of the Atlantic, the desig-nation of the vessel on board which he wasto take his passage, the date assigned forhis speedy arrival, all combined to impart acertain character of reality to the proposal.They must get some clearer notion of the mat-ter. Scattered groups of inquirers at lengthcondensed themselves into a compact crowd,which made straight for the residence of Pres-ident Barbicane. That worthy individual waskeeping quiet with the intention of watchingevents as they arose. But he had forgotten totake into account the public impatience; andit was with no pleasant countenance that hewatched the population of Tampa Town gath-ering under his windows. The murmurs andvociferations below presently obliged him toappear. He came forward, therefore, and onsilence being procured, a citizen put point-


blank to him the following question: “Is theperson mentioned in the telegram, under thename of Michel Ardan, on his way here? Yesor no.”

“Gentlemen,” replied Barbicane, “I knowno more than you do.”

“We must know,” roared the impatientvoices.

“Time will show,” calmly replied the presi-dent.

“Time has no business to keep a wholecountry in suspense,” replied the orator.“Have you altered the plans of the projectileaccording to the request of the telegram?”

“Not yet, gentlemen; but you are right! wemust have better information to go by. Thetelegraph must complete its information.”

“To the telegraph!” roared the crowd.Barbicane descended; and heading the im-

mense assemblage, led the way to the tele-graph office. A few minutes later a telegramwas dispatched to the secretary of the under-writers at Liverpool, requesting answers tothe following queries:

“About the ship Atlanta—when did sheleave Europe? Had she on board a Frenchmannamed Michel Ardan?”

Two hours afterward Barbicane receivedinformation too exact to leave room for thesmallest remaining doubt.

“The steamer Atlanta from Liver-pool put to sea on the 2nd of Oc-tober, bound for Tampa Town, hav-ing on board a Frenchman borne on


the list of passengers by the nameof Michel Ardan.”

That very evening he wrote to the houseof Breadwill and Co., requesting them to sus-pend the casting of the projectile until the re-ceipt of further orders. On the 10th of October,at nine A.M., the semaphores of the BahamaCanal signaled a thick smoke on the horizon.Two hours later a large steamer exchangedsignals with them. The name of the Atlantaflew at once over Tampa Town. At four o’clockthe English vessel entered the Bay of Espir-itu Santo. At five it crossed the passage ofHillisborough Bay at full steam. At six shecast anchor at Port Tampa. The anchor hadscarcely caught the sandy bottom when fivehundred boats surrounded the Atlanta, andthe steamer was taken by assault. Barbicanewas the first to set foot on deck, and in a voiceof which he vainly tried to conceal the emo-tion, called “Michel Ardan.”

“Here!” replied an individual perched onthe poop.

Barbicane, with arms crossed, lookedfixedly at the passenger of the Atlanta.

He was a man of about forty-two yearsof age, of large build, but slightly round-shouldered. His massive head momentarilyshook a shock of reddish hair, which resem-bled a lion’s mane. His face was short with abroad forehead, and furnished with a mous-tache as bristly as a cat’s, and little patches ofyellowish whiskers upon full cheeks. Round,wildish eyes, slightly near-sighted, completed


a physiognomy essentially feline. His nosewas firmly shaped, his mouth particularlysweet in expression, high forehead, intelli-gent and furrowed with wrinkles like a newly-plowed field. The body was powerfully devel-oped and firmly fixed upon long legs. Muscu-lar arms, and a general air of decision gavehim the appearance of a hardy, jolly, compan-ion. He was dressed in a suit of ample dimen-sions, loose neckerchief, open shirtcollar, dis-closing a robust neck; his cuffs were invari-ably unbuttoned, through which appeared apair of red hands.

On the bridge of the steamer, in the midstof the crowd, he bustled to and fro, never stillfor a moment, “dragging his anchors,” as thesailors say, gesticulating, making free with ev-erybody, biting his nails with nervous avidity.He was one of those originals which naturesometimes invents in the freak of a moment,and of which she then breaks the mould.

Among other peculiarities, this curiositygave himself out for a sublime ignoramus,“like Shakespeare,” and professed supremecontempt for all scientific men. Those “fel-lows,” as he called them, “are only fit to markthe points, while we play the game.” He was,in fact, a thorough Bohemian, adventurous,but not an adventurer; a hare-brained fel-low, a kind of Icarus, only possessing relaysof wings. For the rest, he was ever in scrapes,ending invariably by falling on his feet, likethose little figures which they sell for chil-dren’s toys. In a few words, his motto was “Ihave my opinions,” and the love of the impos-


sible constituted his ruling passion.Such was the passenger of the Atlanta, al-

ways excitable, as if boiling under the actionof some internal fire by the character of hisphysical organization. If ever two individualsoffered a striking contrast to each other, thesewere certainly Michel Ardan and the YankeeBarbicane; both, moreover, being equally en-terprising and daring, each in his own way.

The scrutiny which the president of theGun Club had instituted regarding this newrival was quickly interrupted by the shoutsand hurrahs of the crowd. The cries becameat last so uproarious, and the popular enthusi-asm assumed so personal a form, that MichelArdan, after having shaken hands some thou-sands of times, at the imminent risk of leav-ing his fingers behind him, was fain at last tomake a bolt for his cabin.

Barbicane followed him without uttering aword.

“You are Barbicane, I suppose?” saidMichel Ardan, in a tone of voice in whichhe would have addressed a friend of twentyyears’ standing.

“Yes,” replied the president of the GunClub.

“All right! how d’ye do, Barbicane? how areyou getting on—pretty well? that’s right.”

“So,” said Barbicane without further pre-liminary, “you are quite determined to go.”

“Quite decided.”“Nothing will stop you?”“Nothing. Have you modified your projec-

tile according to my telegram.”


“I waited for your arrival. But,” asked Bar-bicane again, “have you carefully reflected?”

“Reflected? have I any time to spare? I findan opportunity of making a tour in the moon,and I mean to profit by it. There is the wholegist of the matter.”

Barbicane looked hard at this man whospoke so lightly of his project with such com-plete absence of anxiety. “But, at least,” saidhe, “you have some plans, some means of car-rying your project into execution?”

“Excellent, my dear Barbicane; only per-mit me to offer one remark: My wish is to tellmy story once for all, to everybody, and thenhave done with it; then there will be no needfor recapitulation. So, if you have no objection,assemble your friends, colleagues, the wholetown, all Florida, all America if you like, andto-morrow I shall be ready to explain my plansand answer any objections whatever that maybe advanced. You may rest assured I shallwait without stirring. Will that suit you?”

“All right,” replied Barbicane.So saying, the president left the cabin and

informed the crowd of the proposal of MichelArdan. His words were received with clap-pings of hands and shouts of joy. They hadremoved all difficulties. To-morrow every onewould contemplate at his ease this Europeanhero. However, some of the spectators, moreinfatuated than the rest, would not leave thedeck of the Atlanta. They passed the night onboard. Among others J. T. Maston got his hookfixed in the combing of the poop, and it prettynearly required the capstan to get it out again.


“He is a hero! a hero!” he cried, a themeof which he was never tired of ringing thechanges; “and we are only like weak, sillywomen, compared with this European!”

As to the president, after having suggestedto the visitors it was time to retire, he re-entered the passenger’s cabin, and remainedthere till the bell of the steamer made it mid-night.

But then the two rivals in popularity shookhands heartily and parted on terms of inti-mate friendship.

A MONSTERMEETING

On the following day Barbicane, fearing thatindiscreet questions might be put to MichelArdan, was desirous of reducing the numberof the audience to a few of the initiated, hisown colleagues for instance. He might as wellhave tried to check the Falls of Niagara! Hewas compelled, therefore, to give up the idea,and let his new friend run the chances of apublic conference. The place chosen for thismonster meeting was a vast plain situated inthe rear of the town. In a few hours, thanksto the help of the shipping in port, an im-mense roofing of canvas was stretched overthe parched prairie, and protected it from theburning rays of the sun. There three hundredthousand people braved for many hours thestifling heat while awaiting the arrival of theFrenchman. Of this crowd of spectators a firstset could both see and hear; a second set sawbadly and heard nothing at all; and as for thethird, it could neither see nor hear anythingat all. At three o’clock Michel Ardan madehis appearance, accompanied by the principal

137


members of the Gun Club. He was supportedon his right by President Barbicane, and onhis left by J. T. Maston, more radiant thanthe midday sun, and nearly as ruddy. Ardanmounted a platform, from the top of which hisview extended over a sea of black hats.

He exhibited not the slightest embarrass-ment; he was just as gay, familiar, and pleas-ant as if he were at home. To the hurrahswhich greeted him he replied by a gracefulbow; then, waving his hands to request si-lence, he spoke in perfectly correct English asfollows:

“Gentlemen, despite the very hot weather Irequest your patience for a short time while Ioffer some explanations regarding the projectswhich seem to have so interested you. I amneither an orator nor a man of science, and Ihad no idea of addressing you in public; butmy friend Barbicane has told me that youwould like to hear me, and I am quite at yourservice. Listen to me, therefore, with your sixhundred thousand ears, and please excuse thefaults of the speaker. Now pray do not forgetthat you see before you a perfect ignoramuswhose ignorance goes so far that he cannoteven understand the difficulties! It seemed tohim that it was a matter quite simple, natu-ral, and easy to take one’s place in a projectileand start for the moon! That journey mustbe undertaken sooner or later; and, as for themode of locomotion adopted, it follows simplythe law of progress. Man began by walking onall-fours; then, one fine day, on two feet; thenin a carriage; then in a stage-coach; and lastly


by railway. Well, the projectile is the vehicleof the future, and the planets themselves arenothing else! Now some of you, gentlemen,may imagine that the velocity we propose toimpart to it is extravagant. It is nothing ofthe kind. All the stars exceed it in rapidity,and the earth herself is at this moment carry-ing us round the sun at three times as rapid arate, and yet she is a mere lounger on the waycompared with many others of the planets!And her velocity is constantly decreasing. Isit not evident, then, I ask you, that there willsome day appear velocities far greater thanthese, of which light or electricity will prob-ably be the mechanical agent?

“Yes, gentlemen,” continued the orator, “inspite of the opinions of certain narrow-mindedpeople, who would shut up the human raceupon this globe, as within some magic circlewhich it must never outstep, we shall one daytravel to the moon, the planets, and the stars,with the same facility, rapidity, and certaintyas we now make the voyage from Liverpool toNew York! Distance is but a relative expres-sion, and must end by being reduced to zero.”

The assembly, strongly predisposed asthey were in favor of the French hero, wereslightly staggered at this bold theory. MichelArdan perceived the fact.

“Gentlemen,” he continued with a pleasantsmile, “you do not seem quite convinced. Verygood! Let us reason the matter out. Do youknow how long it would take for an expresstrain to reach the moon? Three hundred days;no more! And what is that? The distance is


no more than nine times the circumference ofthe earth; and there are no sailors or travel-ers, of even moderate activity, who have notmade longer journeys than that in their life-time. And now consider that I shall be onlyninety-seven hours on my journey. Ah! I seeyou are reckoning that the moon is a long wayoff from the earth, and that one must thinktwice before making the experiment. Whatwould you say, then, if we were talking of go-ing to Neptune, which revolves at a distance ofmore than two thousand seven hundred andtwenty millions of miles from the sun! Andyet what is that compared with the distanceof the fixed stars, some of which, such as Arc-turus, are billions of miles distant from us?And then you talk of the distance which sep-arates the planets from the sun! And thereare people who affirm that such a thing asdistance exists. Absurdity, folly, idiotic non-sense! Would you know what I think of ourown solar universe? Shall I tell you my the-ory? It is very simple! In my opinion the so-lar system is a solid homogeneous body; theplanets which compose it are in actual contactwith each other; and whatever space exists be-tween them is nothing more than the spacewhich separates the molecules of the densestmetal, such as silver, iron, or platinum! I havethe right, therefore, to affirm, and I repeat,with the conviction which must penetrate allyour minds, ‘Distance is but an empty name;distance does not really exist!”’

“Hurrah!” cried one voice (need it be saidit was that of J. T. Maston). “Distance does


not exist!” And overcome by the energy of hismovements, he nearly fell from the platformto the ground. He just escaped a severe fall,which would have proved to him that distancewas by no means an empty name.

“Gentlemen,” resumed the orator, “I repeatthat the distance between the earth and hersatellite is a mere trifle, and undeserving ofserious consideration. I am convinced thatbefore twenty years are over one-half of ourearth will have paid a visit to the moon. Now,my worthy friends, if you have any questionto put to me, you will, I fear, sadly embarrassa poor man like myself; still I will do my bestto answer you.”

Up to this point the president of the GunClub had been satisfied with the turn whichthe discussion had assumed. It became now,however, desirable to divert Ardan from ques-tions of a practical nature, with which hewas doubtless far less conversant. Barbi-cane, therefore, hastened to get in a word, andbegan by asking his new friend whether hethought that the moon and the planets wereinhabited.

“You put before me a great problem, myworthy president,” replied the orator, smil-ing. “Still, men of great intelligence, suchas Plutarch, Swedenborg, Bernardin de St.Pierre, and others have, if I mistake not, pro-nounced in the affirmative. Looking at thequestion from the natural philosopher’s pointof view, I should say that nothing useless ex-isted in the world; and, replying to your ques-tion by another, I should venture to assert,


that if these worlds are habitable, they eitherare, have been, or will be inhabited.”

“No one could answer more logically orfairly,” replied the president. “The questionthen reverts to this: Are these worlds habit-able? For my own part I believe they are.”

“For myself, I feel certain of it,” said MichelArdan.

“Nevertheless,” retorted one of the audi-ence, “there are many arguments against thehabitability of the worlds. The conditions oflife must evidently be greatly modified uponthe majority of them. To mention only theplanets, we should be either broiled alive insome, or frozen to death in others, accordingas they are more or less removed from thesun.”

“I regret,” replied Michel Ardan, “that Ihave not the honor of personally knowing mycontradictor, for I would have attempted toanswer him. His objection has its merits, Iadmit; but I think we may successfully com-bat it, as well as all others which affect thehabitability of other worlds. If I were a nat-ural philosopher, I would tell him that if lessof caloric were set in motion upon the plan-ets which are nearest to the sun, and more,on the contrary, upon those which are farthestremoved from it, this simple fact would alonesuffice to equalize the heat, and to render thetemperature of those worlds supportable bybeings organized like ourselves. If I were anaturalist, I would tell him that, according tosome illustrious men of science, nature hasfurnished us with instances upon the earth


of animals existing under very varying con-ditions of life; that fish respire in a mediumfatal to other animals; that amphibious crea-tures possess a double existence very difficultof explanation; that certain denizens of theseas maintain life at enormous depths, andthere support a pressure equal to that of fiftyor sixty atmospheres without being crushed;that several aquatic insects, insensible to tem-perature, are met with equally among boilingsprings and in the frozen plains of the PolarSea; in fine, that we cannot help recognizingin nature a diversity of means of operation of-tentimes incomprehensible, but not the lessreal. If I were a chemist, I would tell him thatthe aerolites, bodies evidently formed exteri-orly of our terrestrial globe, have, upon anal-ysis, revealed indisputable traces of carbon, asubstance which owes its origin solely to or-ganized beings, and which, according to theexperiments of Reichenbach, must necessar-ily itself have been endued with animation.And lastly, were I a theologian, I would tellhim that the scheme of the Divine Redemp-tion, according to St. Paul, seems to be appli-cable, not merely to the earth, but to all thecelestial worlds. But, unfortunately, I am nei-ther theologian, nor chemist, nor naturalist,nor philosopher; therefore, in my absolute ig-norance of the great laws which govern theuniverse, I confine myself to saying in reply,‘I do not know whether the worlds are inhab-ited or not: and since I do not know, I am goingto see!”’

Whether Michel Ardan’s antagonist haz-


arded any further arguments or not it is im-possible to say, for the uproarious shouts ofthe crowd would not allow any expression ofopinion to gain a hearing. On silence being re-stored, the triumphant orator contented him-self with adding the following remarks:

“Gentlemen, you will observe that I havebut slightly touched upon this great question.There is another altogether different line ofargument in favor of the habitability of thestars, which I omit for the present. I only de-sire to call attention to one point. To thosewho maintain that the planets are not in-habited one may reply: You might be per-fectly in the right, if you could only show thatthe earth is the best possible world, in spiteof what Voltaire has said. She has but onesatellite, while Jupiter, Uranus, Saturn, Nep-tune have each several, an advantage by nomeans to be despised. But that which ren-ders our own globe so uncomfortable is theinclination of its axis to the plane of its or-bit. Hence the inequality of days and nights;hence the disagreeable diversity of the sea-sons. On the surface of our unhappy spheroidwe are always either too hot or too cold; weare frozen in winter, broiled in summer; it isthe planet of rheumatism, coughs, bronchitis;while on the surface of Jupiter, for example,where the axis is but slightly inclined, theinhabitants may enjoy uniform temperatures.It possesses zones of perpetual springs, sum-mers, autumns, and winters; every Jovianmay choose for himself what climate he likes,and there spend the whole of his life in secu-


rity from all variations of temperature. Youwill, I am sure, readily admit this superiorityof Jupiter over our own planet, to say nothingof his years, which each equal twelve of ours!Under such auspices and such marvelous con-ditions of existence, it appears to me that theinhabitants of so fortunate a world must be inevery respect superior to ourselves. All we re-quire, in order to attain such perfection, is themere trifle of having an axis of rotation lessinclined to the plane of its orbit!”

“Hurrah!” roared an energetic voice, “letus unite our efforts, invent the necessary ma-chines, and rectify the earth’s axis!”

A thunder of applause followed this pro-posal, the author of which was, of course, noother than J. T. Maston. And, in all probabil-ity, if the truth must be told, if the Yankeescould only have found a point of applicationfor it, they would have constructed a lever ca-pable of raising the earth and rectifying itsaxis. It was just this deficiency which baffledthese daring mechanicians.

ATTACK ANDRIPOSTE

As soon as the excitement had subsided,the following words were heard uttered in astrong and determined voice:

“Now that the speaker has favored us withso much imagination, would he be so good asto return to his subject, and give us a littlepractical view of the question?”

All eyes were directed toward the personwho spoke. He was a little dried-up man, ofan active figure, with an American “goatee”beard. Profiting by the different movementsin the crowd, he had managed by degrees togain the front row of spectators. There, witharms crossed and stern gaze, he watched thehero of the meeting. After having put hisquestion he remained silent, and appeared totake no notice of the thousands of looks di-rected toward himself, nor of the murmur ofdisapprobation excited by his words. Meetingat first with no reply, he repeated his ques-tion with marked emphasis, adding, “We arehere to talk about the moon and not about theearth.”

147


“You are right, sir,” replied Michel Ardan;“the discussion has become irregular. We willreturn to the moon.”

“Sir,” said the unknown, “you pretend thatour satellite is inhabited. Very good, but if Se-lenites do exist, that race of beings assuredlymust live without breathing, for—I warn youfor your own sake—there is not the smallestparticle of air on the surface of the moon.”

At this remark Ardan pushed up his shockof red hair; he saw that he was on the point ofbeing involved in a struggle with this personupon the very gist of the whole question. Helooked sternly at him in his turn and said:

“Oh! so there is no air in the moon? Andpray, if you are so good, who ventures to affirmthat?

“The men of science.”“Really?”“Really.”“Sir,” replied Michel, “pleasantry apart, I

have a profound respect for men of sciencewho do possess science, but a profound con-tempt for men of science who do not.”

“Do you know any who belong to the lattercategory?”

“Decidedly. In France there are some whomaintain that, mathematically, a bird cannotpossibly fly; and others who demonstrate the-oretically that fishes were never made to livein water.”

“I have nothing to do with persons of thatdescription, and I can quote, in support ofmy statement, names which you cannot refusedeference to.”


“Then, sir, you will sadly embarrass a poorignorant, who, besides, asks nothing betterthan to learn.”

“Why, then, do you introduce scientificquestions if you have never studied them?”asked the unknown somewhat coarsely.

“For the reason that ‘he is always bravewho never suspects danger.’ I know nothing,it is true; but it is precisely my very weaknesswhich constitutes my strength.”

“Your weakness amounts to folly,” retortedthe unknown in a passion.

“All the better,” replied our Frenchman, “ifit carries me up to the moon.”

Barbicane and his colleagues devouredwith their eyes the intruder who had so boldlyplaced himself in antagonism to their enter-prise. Nobody knew him, and the president,uneasy as to the result of so free a discus-sion, watched his new friend with some anx-iety. The meeting began to be somewhat fid-gety also, for the contest directed their atten-tion to the dangers, if not the actual impossi-bilities, of the proposed expedition.

“Sir,” replied Ardan’s antagonist, “thereare many and incontrovertible reasons whichprove the absence of an atmosphere in themoon. I might say that, a priori, if one everdid exist, it must have been absorbed by theearth; but I prefer to bring forward indis-putable facts.”

“Bring them forward then, sir, as many asyou please.”

“You know,” said the stranger, “that whenany luminous rays cross a medium such as the


air, they are deflected out of the straight line;in other words, they undergo refraction. Well!When stars are occulted by the moon, theirrays, on grazing the edge of her disc, exhibitnot the least deviation, nor offer the slightestindication of refraction. It follows, therefore,that the moon cannot be surrounded by an at-mosphere.

“In point of fact,” replied Ardan, “this isyour chief, if not your only argument; and areally scientific man might be puzzled to an-swer it. For myself, I will simply say that it isdefective, because it assumes that the angu-lar diameter of the moon has been completelydetermined, which is not the case. But let usproceed. Tell me, my dear sir, do you admitthe existence of volcanoes on the moon’s sur-face?”

“Extinct, yes! In activity, no!”“These volcanoes, however, were at one

time in a state of activity?”“True, but, as they furnish themselves the

oxygen necessary for combustion, the merefact of their eruption does not prove the pres-ence of an atmosphere.”

“Proceed again, then; and let us set asidethis class of arguments in order to come to di-rect observations. In 1715 the astronomersLouville and Halley, watching the eclipse ofthe 3rd of May, remarked some very extraor-dinary scintillations. These jets of light, rapidin nature, and of frequent recurrence, theyattributed to thunderstorms generated in thelunar atmosphere.”

“In 1715,” replied the unknown, “the as-


tronomers Louville and Halley mistook forlunar phenomena some which were purelyterrestrial, such as meteoric or other bodieswhich are generated in our own atmosphere.This was the scientific explanation at the timeof the facts; and that is my answer now.”

“On again, then,” replied Ardan; “Her-schel, in 1787, observed a great number of lu-minous points on the moon’s surface, did henot?”

“Yes! but without offering any solution ofthem. Herschel himself never inferred fromthem the necessity of a lunar atmosphere.And I may add that Baeer and Maedler, thetwo great authorities upon the moon, arequite agreed as to the entire absence of air onits surface.”

A movement was here manifest among theassemblage, who appeared to be growing ex-cited by the arguments of this singular per-sonage.

“Let us proceed,” replied Ardan, with per-fect coolness, “and come to one importantfact. A skillful French astronomer, M. Lausse-dat, in watching the eclipse of July 18, 1860,probed that the horns of the lunar crescentwere rounded and truncated. Now, this ap-pearance could only have been produced by adeviation of the solar rays in traversing theatmosphere of the moon. There is no otherpossible explanation of the facts.”

“But is this established as a fact?”“Absolutely certain!”A counter-movement here took place in fa-

vor of the hero of the meeting, whose oppo-


nent was now reduced to silence. Ardan re-sumed the conversation; and without exhibit-ing any exultation at the advantage he hadgained, simply said:

“You see, then, my dear sir, we must notpronounce with absolute positiveness againstthe existence of an atmosphere in the moon.That atmosphere is, probably, of extreme rar-ity; nevertheless at the present day sciencegenerally admits that it exists.”

“Not in the mountains, at all events,” re-turned the unknown, unwilling to give in.

“No! but at the bottom of the valleys, andnot exceeding a few hundred feet in height.”

“In any case you will do well to take ev-ery precaution, for the air will be terribly rar-ified.”

“My good sir, there will always be enoughfor a solitary individual; besides, once arrivedup there, I shall do my best to economize, andnot to breathe except on grand occasions!”

A tremendous roar of laughter rang inthe ears of the mysterious interlocutor, whoglared fiercely round upon the assembly.

“Then,” continued Ardan, with a carelessair, “since we are in accord regarding the pres-ence of a certain atmosphere, we are forcedto admit the presence of a certain quantity ofwater. This is a happy consequence for me.Moreover, my amiable contradictor, permit meto submit to you one further observation. Weonly know one side of the moon’s disc; and ifthere is but little air on the face presented tous, it is possible that there is plenty on the oneturned away from us.”


“And for what reason?”“Because the moon, under the action of the

earth’s attraction, has assumed the form ofan egg, which we look at from the smallerend. Hence it follows, by Hausen’s calcula-tions, that its center of gravity is situated inthe other hemisphere. Hence it results thatthe great mass of air and water must havebeen drawn away to the other face of our satel-lite during the first days of its creation.”

“Pure fancies!” cried the unknown.“No! Pure theories! which are based upon

the laws of mechanics, and it seems difficult tome to refute them. I appeal then to this meet-ing, and I put it to them whether life, such asexists upon the earth, is possible on the sur-face of the moon?”

Three hundred thousand auditors at onceapplauded the proposition. Ardan’s opponenttried to get in another word, but he could notobtain a hearing. Cries and menaces fell uponhim like hail.

“Enough! enough!” cried some.“Drive the intruder off!” shouted others.“Turn him out!” roared the exasperated

crowd.But he, holding firmly on to the platform,

did not budge an inch, and let the stormpass on, which would soon have assumedformidable proportions, if Michel Ardan hadnot quieted it by a gesture. He was too chival-rous to abandon his opponent in an apparentextremity.

“You wished to say a few more words?” heasked, in a pleasant voice.


“Yes, a thousand; or rather, no, only one! Ifyou persevere in your enterprise, you must bea—”

“Very rash person! How can you treat meas such? me, who have demanded a cylindro-conical projectile, in order to prevent turninground and round on my way like a squirrel?”

“But, unhappy man, the dreadful recoilwill smash you to pieces at your starting.”

“My dear contradictor, you have just putyour finger upon the true and only difficulty;nevertheless, I have too good an opinion of theindustrial genius of the Americans not to be-lieve that they will succeed in overcoming it.”

“But the heat developed by the rapidity ofthe projectile in crossing the strata of air?”

“Oh! the walls are thick, and I shall soonhave crossed the atmosphere.”

“But victuals and water?”“I have calculated for a twelvemonth’s sup-

ply, and I shall be only four days on the jour-ney.”

“But for air to breathe on the road?”“I shall make it by a chemical process.”“But your fall on the moon, supposing you

ever reach it?”“It will be six times less dangerous than

a sudden fall upon the earth, because theweight will be only one-sixth as great on thesurface of the moon.”

“Still it will be enough to smash you likeglass!”

“What is to prevent my retarding the shockby means of rockets conveniently placed, andlighted at the right moment?”


“But after all, supposing all difficulties sur-mounted, all obstacles removed, supposing ev-erything combined to favor you, and grantingthat you may arrive safe and sound in themoon, how will you come back?”

“I am not coming back!”At this reply, almost sublime in its very

simplicity, the assembly became silent. Butits silence was more eloquent than could havebeen its cries of enthusiasm. The unknownprofited by the opportunity and once moreprotested:

“You will inevitably kill yourself!” he cried;“and your death will be that of a madman,useless even to science!”

“Go on, my dear unknown, for truly yourprophecies are most agreeable!”

“It really is too much!” cried Michel Ar-dan’s adversary. “I do not know why I shouldcontinue so frivolous a discussion! Pleaseyourself about this insane expedition! Weneed not trouble ourselves about you!”

“Pray don’t stand upon ceremony!”“No! another person is responsible for your

act.”“Who, may I ask?” demanded Michel Ar-

dan in an imperious tone.“The ignoramus who organized this

equally absurd and impossible experiment!”The attack was direct. Barbicane, ever

since the interference of the unknown, hadbeen making fearful efforts of self-control;now, however, seeing himself directly at-tacked, he could restrain himself no longer.He rose suddenly, and was rushing upon the


enemy who thus braved him to the face, whenall at once he found himself separated fromhim.

The platform was lifted by a hundredstrong arms, and the president of the GunClub shared with Michel Ardan triumphalhonors. The shield was heavy, but the bearerscame in continuous relays, disputing, strug-gling, even fighting among themselves intheir eagerness to lend their shoulders to thisdemonstration.

However, the unknown had not profited bythe tumult to quit his post. Besides he couldnot have done it in the midst of that compactcrowd. There he held on in the front row withcrossed arms, glaring at President Barbicane.

The shouts of the immense crowd contin-ued at their highest pitch throughout this tri-umphant march. Michel Ardan took it allwith evident pleasure. His face gleamed withdelight. Several times the platform seemedseized with pitching and rolling like a weath-erbeaten ship. But the two heros of the meet-ing had good sea-legs. They never stumbled;and their vessel arrived without dues at theport of Tampa Town.

Michel Ardan managed fortunately to es-cape from the last embraces of his vigorousadmirers. He made for the Hotel Franklin,quickly gained his chamber, and slid underthe bedclothes, while an army of a hundredthousand men kept watch under his windows.

During this time a scene, short, grave, anddecisive, took place between the mysteriouspersonage and the president of the Gun Club.


Barbicane, free at last, had gone straightat his adversary.

“Come!” he said shortly.The other followed him on the quay; and

the two presently found themselves alone atthe entrance of an open wharf on Jones’ Fall.

The two enemies, still mutually unknown,gazed at each other.

“Who are you?” asked Barbicane.“Captain Nicholl!”“So I suspected. Hitherto chance has never

thrown you in my way.”“I am come for that purpose.”“You have insulted me.”“Publicly!”“And you will answer to me for this insult?”“At this very moment.”“No! I desire that all that passes between

us shall be secret. Their is a wood situatedthree miles from Tampa, the wood of Sker-snaw. Do you know it?”

“I know it.”“Will you be so good as to enter it to-

morrow morning at five o’clock, on one side?”“Yes! if you will enter at the other side at

the same hour.”“And you will not forget your rifle?” said

Barbicane.“No more than you will forget yours?”

replied Nicholl.These words having been coldly spoken,

the president of the Gun Club and the captainparted. Barbicane returned to his lodging; butinstead of snatching a few hours of repose, hepassed the night in endeavoring to discover a


means of evading the recoil of the projectile,and resolving the difficult problem proposedby Michel Ardan during the discussion at themeeting.

HOW AFRENCHMANMANAGES ANAFFAIR

While the contract of this duel was being dis-cussed by the president and the captain—thisdreadful, savage duel, in which each adver-sary became a man-hunter—Michel Ardanwas resting from the fatigues of his triumph.Resting is hardly an appropriate expression,for American beds rival marble or granite ta-bles for hardness.

Ardan was sleeping, then, badly enough,tossing about between the cloths which servedhim for sheets, and he was dreaming of mak-ing a more comfortable couch in his pro-jectile when a frightful noise disturbed hisdreams. Thundering blows shook his door.They seemed to be caused by some iron instru-ment. A great deal of loud talking was dis-tinguishable in this racket, which was rathertoo early in the morning. “Open the door,”some one shrieked, “for heaven’s sake!” Ardan

159


saw no reason for complying with a demandso roughly expressed. However, he got up andopened the door just as it was giving way be-fore the blows of this determined visitor. Thesecretary of the Gun Club burst into the room.A bomb could not have made more noise orhave entered the room with less ceremony.

“Last night,” cried J. T. Maston, ex abrupto,“our president was publicly insulted duringthe meeting. He provoked his adversary, whois none other than Captain Nicholl! They arefighting this morning in the wood of Sker-snaw. I heard all the particulars from themouth of Barbicane himself. If he is killed,then our scheme is at an end. We must pre-vent his duel; and one man alone has enoughinfluence over Barbicane to stop him, and thatman is Michel Ardan.”

While J. T. Maston was speaking, MichelArdan, without interrupting him, had hastilyput on his clothes; and, in less than two min-utes, the two friends were making for the sub-urbs of Tampa Town with rapid strides.

It was during this walk that Maston toldArdan the state of the case. He told him thereal causes of the hostility between Barbicaneand Nicholl; how it was of old date, and why,thanks to unknown friends, the president andthe captain had, as yet, never met face to face.He added that it arose simply from a rivalrybetween iron plates and shot, and, finally, thatthe scene at the meeting was only the long-wished-for opportunity for Nicholl to pay offan old grudge.

Nothing is more dreadful than private du-


els in America. The two adversaries attackeach other like wild beasts. Then it is thatthey might well covet those wonderful prop-erties of the Indians of the prairies—theirquick intelligence, their ingenious cunning,their scent of the enemy. A single mistake,a moment’s hesitation, a single false step maycause death. On these occasions Yankees areoften accompanied by their dogs, and keep upthe struggle for hours.

“What demons you are!” cried Michel Ar-dan, when his companion had depicted thisscene to him with much energy.

“Yes, we are,” replied J. T. modestly; “butwe had better make haste.”

Though Michel Ardan and he had crossedthe plains still wet with dew, and had takenthe shortest route over creeks and ricefields,they could not reach Skersnaw in under fivehours and a half.

Barbicane must have passed the borderhalf an hour ago.

There was an old bushman working there,occupied in selling fagots from trees that hadbeen leveled by his axe.

Maston ran toward him, saying, “Have youseen a man go into the wood, armed with a ri-fle? Barbicane, the president, my best friend?”

The worthy secretary of the Gun Clubthought that his president must be known byall the world. But the bushman did not seemto understand him.

“A hunter?” said Ardan.“A hunter? Yes,” replied the bushman.“Long ago?”


“About an hour.”“Too late!” cried Maston.“Have you heard any gunshots?” asked Ar-

dan.“No!”“Not one?”“Not one! that hunter did not look as if he

knew how to hunt!”“What is to be done?” said Maston.“We must go into the wood, at the risk of

getting a ball which is not intended for us.”“Ah!” cried Maston, in a tone which could

not be mistaken, “I would rather have twentyballs in my own head than one in Barbicane’s.”

“Forward, then,” said Ardan, pressing hiscompanion’s hand.

A few moments later the two friendshad disappeared in the copse. It was adense thicket, in which rose huge cypresses,sycamores, tulip-trees, olives, tamarinds,oaks, and magnolias. These different treeshad interwoven their branches into an inex-tricable maze, through which the eye couldnot penetrate. Michel Ardan and Mastonwalked side by side in silence through thetall grass, cutting themselves a path throughthe strong creepers, casting curious glanceson the bushes, and momentarily expecting tohear the sound of rifles. As for the traceswhich Barbicane ought to have left of hispassage through the wood, there was not avestige of them visible: so they followed thebarely perceptible paths along which Indianshad tracked some enemy, and which the densefoliage darkly overshadowed.


After an hour spent in vain pursuit the twostopped in intensified anxiety.

“It must be all over,” said Maston, discour-aged. “A man like Barbicane would not dodgewith his enemy, or ensnare him, would noteven maneuver! He is too open, too brave. Hehas gone straight ahead, right into the dan-ger, and doubtless far enough from the bush-man for the wind to prevent his hearing thereport of the rifles.”

“But surely,” replied Michel Ardan, “sincewe entered the wood we should have heard!”

“And what if we came too late?” cried Mas-ton in tones of despair.

For once Ardan had no reply to make,he and Maston resuming their walk in si-lence. From time to time, indeed, they raisedgreat shouts, calling alternately Barbicaneand Nicholl, neither of whom, however, an-swered their cries. Only the birds, awakenedby the sound, flew past them and disappearedamong the branches, while some frighteneddeer fled precipitately before them.

For another hour their search was contin-ued. The greater part of the wood had been ex-plored. There was nothing to reveal the pres-ence of the combatants. The information ofthe bushman was after all doubtful, and Ar-dan was about to propose their abandoningthis useless pursuit, when all at once Mastonstopped.

“Hush!” said he, “there is some one downthere!”

“Some one?” repeated Michel Ardan.“Yes; a man! He seems motionless. His ri-


fle is not in his hands. What can he be doing?”“But can you recognize him?” asked Ardan,

whose short sight was of little use to him insuch circumstances.

“Yes! yes! He is turning toward us,” an-swered Maston.

“And it is?”“Captain Nicholl!”“Nicholl?” cried Michel Ardan, feeling a

terrible pang of grief.“Nicholl unarmed! He has, then, no longer

any fear of his adversary!”“Let us go to him,” said Michel Ardan, “and

find out the truth.”But he and his companion had barely

taken fifty steps, when they paused to exam-ine the captain more attentively. They ex-pected to find a bloodthirsty man, happy in hisrevenge.

On seeing him, they remained stupefied.A net, composed of very fine meshes, hung

between two enormous tulip-trees, and in themidst of this snare, with its wings entangled,was a poor little bird, uttering pitiful cries,while it vainly struggled to escape. The bird-catcher who had laid this snare was no humanbeing, but a venomous spider, peculiar to thatcountry, as large as a pigeon’s egg, and armedwith enormous claws. The hideous creature,instead of rushing on its prey, had beaten asudden retreat and taken refuge in the upperbranches of the tulip-tree, for a formidable en-emy menaced its stronghold.

Here, then, was Nicholl, his gun on theground, forgetful of danger, trying if possible


to save the victim from its cobweb prison. Atlast it was accomplished, and the little birdflew joyfully away and disappeared.

Nicholl lovingly watched its flight, when heheard these words pronounced by a voice fullof emotion:

“You are indeed a brave man.”He turned. Michel Ardan was before him,

repeating in a different tone:“And a kindhearted one!”“Michel Ardan!” cried the captain. “Why

are you here?”“To press your hand, Nicholl, and to pre-

vent you from either killing Barbicane or be-ing killed by him.”

“Barbicane!” returned the captain. “I havebeen looking for him for the last two hours invain. Where is he hiding?”

“Nicholl!” said Michel Ardan, “this is notcourteous! we ought always to treat an adver-sary with respect; rest assureed if Barbicaneis still alive we shall find him all the more eas-ily; because if he has not, like you, been amus-ing himself with freeing oppressed birds, hemust be looking for you. When we have foundhim, Michel Ardan tells you this, there will beno duel between you.”

“Between President Barbicane and my-self,” gravely replied Nicholl, “there is a ri-valry which the death of one of us—”

“Pooh, pooh!” said Ardan. “Brave fellowslike you indeed! you shall not fight!”

“I will fight, sir!”“No!”“Captain,” said J. T. Maston, with much


feeling, “I am a friend of the president’s, hisalter ego, his second self; if you really mustkill some one, shoot me! it will do just as well!”

“Sir,” Nicholl replied, seizing his rifle con-vulsively, “these jokes—”

“Our friend Maston is not joking,” repliedArdan. “I fully understand his idea of beingkilled himself in order to save his friend. Butneither he nor Barbicane will fall before theballs of Captain Nicholl. Indeed I have so at-tractive a proposal to make to the two rivals,that both will be eager to accept it.”

“What is it?” asked Nicholl with manifestincredulity.

“Patience!” exclaimed Ardan. “I can onlyreveal it in the presence of Barbicane.”

“Let us go in search of him then!” cried thecaptain.

The three men started off at once; thecaptain having discharged his rifle threw itover his shoulder, and advanced in silence.Another half hour passed, and the pursuitwas still fruitless. Maston was oppressed bysinister forebodings. He looked fiercely atNicholl, asking himself whether the captain’svengeance had already been satisfied, and theunfortunate Barbicane, shot, was perhaps ly-ing dead on some bloody track. The samethought seemed to occur to Ardan; and bothwere casting inquiring glances on Nicholl,when suddenly Maston paused.

The motionless figure of a man leaningagainst a gigantic catalpa twenty feet off ap-peared, half-veiled by the foliage.

“It is he!” said Maston.


Barbicane never moved. Ardan looked atthe captain, but he did not wince. Ardan wentforward crying:

“Barbicane! Barbicane!”No answer! Ardan rushed toward his

friend; but in the act of seizing his arms, hestopped short and uttered a cry of surprise.

Barbicane, pencil in hand, was tracinggeometrical figures in a memorandum book,while his unloaded rifle lay beside him on theground.

Absorbed in his studies, Barbicane, in histurn forgetful of the duel, had seen and heardnothing.

When Ardan took his hand, he looked upand stared at his visitor in astonishment.

“Ah, it is you!” he cried at last. “I havefound it, my friend, I have found it!”

“What?”“My plan!”“What plan?”“The plan for countering the effect of the

shock at the departure of the projectile!”“Indeed?” said Michel Ardan, looking at

the captain out of the corner of his eye.“Yes! water! simply water, which will act as

a spring—ah! Maston,” cried Barbicane, “youhere also?”

“Himself,” replied Ardan; “and permit meto introduce to you at the same time the wor-thy Captain Nicholl!”

“Nicholl!” cried Barbicane, who jumped upat once. “Pardon me, captain, I had quiteforgotten—I am ready!”


Michel Ardan interfered, without givingthe two enemies time to say anything more.

“Thank heaven!” said he. “It is a happything that brave men like you two did notmeet sooner! we should now have been mourn-ing for one or other of you. But, thanks toProvidence, which has interfered, there is nowno further cause for alarm. When one forgetsone’s anger in mechanics or in cobwebs, it is asign that the anger is not dangerous.”

Michel Ardan then told the president howthe captain had been found occupied.

“I put it to you now,” said he in conclusion,“are two such good fellows as you are madeon purpose to smash each other’s skulls withshot?”

There was in “the situation” somewhat ofthe ridiculous, something quite unexpected;Michel Ardan saw this, and determined to ef-fect a reconciliation.

“My good friends,” said he, with his mostbewitching smile, “this is nothing but a mis-understanding. Nothing more! well! to provethat it is all over between you, accept franklythe proposal I am going to make to you.”

“Make it,” said Nicholl.“Our friend Barbicane believes that his

projectile will go straight to the moon?”“Yes, certainly,” replied the president.“And our friend Nicholl is persuaded it will

fall back upon the earth?”“I am certain of it,” cried the captain.“Good!” said Ardan. “I cannot pretend to

make you agree; but I suggest this: Go withme, and so see whether we are stopped on our


journey.”“What?” exclaimed J. T. Maston, stupefied.The two rivals, on this sudden proposal,

looked steadily at each other. Barbicanewaited for the captain’s answer. Nichollwatched for the decision of the president.

“Well?” said Michel. “There is now no fearof the shock!”

“Done!” cried Barbicane.But quickly as he pronounced the word, he

was not before Nicholl.“Hurrah! bravo! hip! hip! hurrah!” cried

Michel, giving a hand to each of the late adver-saries. “Now that it is all settled, my friends,allow me to treat you after French fashion.Let us be off to breakfast!”

THE NEW CITIZENOF THE UNITEDSTATES

That same day all America heard of the af-fair of Captain Nicholl and President Bar-bicane, as well as its singular dénouement.From that day forth, Michel Ardan had notone moment’s rest. Deputations from all cor-ners of the Union harassed him without cessa-tion or intermission. He was compelled to re-ceive them all, whether he would or no. Howmany hands he shook, how many people hewas “hail-fellow-well-met” with, it is impossi-ble to guess! Such a triumphal result wouldhave intoxicated any other man; but he man-aged to keep himself in a state of delightfulsemi-tipsiness.

Among the deputations of all kinds whichassailed him, that of “The Lunatics” werecareful not to forget what they owed to the fu-ture conqueror of the moon. One day, certainof these poor people, so numerous in America,came to call upon him, and requested permis-sion to return with him to their native coun-

171


try.“Singular hallucination!” said he to Barbi-

cane, after having dismissed the deputationwith promises to convey numbers of messagesto friends in the moon. “Do you believe in theinfluence of the moon upon distempers?”

“Scarcely!”“No more do I, despite some remarkable

recorded facts of history. For instance, duringan epidemic in 1693, a large number of per-sons died at the very moment of an eclipse.The celebrated Bacon always fainted duringan eclipse. Charles VI relapsed six times intomadness during the year 1399, sometimesduring the new, sometimes during the fullmoon. Gall observed that insane persons un-derwent an accession of their disorder twicein every month, at the epochs of new and fullmoon. In fact, numerous observations madeupon fevers, somnambulisms, and other hu-man maladies, seem to prove that the moondoes exercise some mysterious influence uponman.”

“But the how and the wherefore?” askedBarbicane.

“Well, I can only give you the answer whichArago borrowed from Plutarch, which is nine-teen centuries old. ‘Perhaps the stories are nottrue!”’

In the height of his triumph, Michel Ardanhad to encounter all the annoyances inciden-tal to a man of celebrity. Managers of enter-tainments wanted to exhibit him. Barnum of-fered him a million dollars to make a tour ofthe United States in his show. As for his pho-


tographs, they were sold of all size, and hisportrait taken in every imaginable posture.More than half a million copies were disposedof in an incredibly short space of time.

But it was not only the men who paid himhomage, but the women as well. He mighthave married well a hundred times over, ifhe had been willing to settle in life. Theold maids, in particular, of forty years andupward, and dry in proportion, devoured hisphotographs day and night. They would havemarried him by hundreds, even if he had im-posed upon them the condition of accompa-nying him into space. He had, however, nointention of transplanting a race of Franco-Americans upon the surface of the moon.

He therefore declined all offers.As soon as he could withdraw from these

somewhat embarrassing demonstrations, hewent, accompanied by his friends, to pay avisit to the Columbiad. He was highly grat-ified by his inspection, and made the descentto the bottom of the tube of this gigantic ma-chine which was presently to launch him tothe regions of the moon. It is necessary hereto mention a proposal of J. T. Maston’s. Whenthe secretary of the Gun Club found that Bar-bicane and Nicholl accepted the proposal ofMichel Ardan, he determined to join them,and make one of a smug party of four. Soone day he determined to be admitted as oneof the travelers. Barbicane, pained at havingto refuse him, gave him clearly to understandthat the projectile could not possibly containso many passengers. Maston, in despair, went


in search of Michel Ardan, who counseled himto resign himself to the situation, adding oneor two arguments ad hominem.

“You see, old fellow,” he said, “you must nottake what I say in bad part; but really, be-tween ourselves, you are in too incomplete acondition to appear in the moon!”

“Incomplete?” shrieked the valiant invalid.“Yes, my dear fellow! imagine our meet-

ing some of the inhabitants up there! Wouldyou like to give them such a melancholy no-tion of what goes on down here? to teach themwhat war is, to inform them that we employour time chiefly in devouring each other, insmashing arms and legs, and that too on aglobe which is capable of supporting a hun-dred billions of inhabitants, and which ac-tually does contain nearly two hundred mil-lions? Why, my worthy friend, we should haveto turn you out of doors!”

“But still, if you arrive there in pieces, youwill be as incomplete as I am.”

“Unquestionably,” replied Michel Ardan;“but we shall not.”

In fact, a preparatory experiment, triedon the 18th of October, had yielded the bestresults and caused the most well-groundedhopes of success. Barbicane, desirous of ob-taining some notion of the effect of the shockat the moment of the projectile’s departure,had procured a 38-inch mortar from the ar-senal of Pensacola. He had this placed onthe bank of Hillisborough Roads, in order thatthe shell might fall back into the sea, and theshock be thereby destroyed. His object was to


ascertain the extent of the shock of departure,and not that of the return.

A hollow projectile had been prepared forthis curious experiment. A thick padding fas-tened upon a kind of elastic network, made ofthe best steel, lined the inside of the walls. Itwas a veritable nest most carefully wadded.

“What a pity I can’t find room in there,”said J. T. Maston, regretting that his heightdid not allow of his trying the adventure.

Within this shell were shut up a large cat,and a squirrel belonging to J. T. Maston, andof which he was particularly fond. They weredesirous, however, of ascertaining how this lit-tle animal, least of all others subject to giddi-ness, would endure this experimental voyage.

The mortar was charged with 160 poundsof powder, and the shell placed in the cham-ber. On being fired, the projectile rose withgreat velocity, described a majestic parabola,attained a height of about a thousand feet,and with a graceful curve descended in themidst of the vessels that lay there at anchor.

Without a moment’s loss of time a smallboat put off in the direction of its fall; somedivers plunged into the water and attachedropes to the handles of the shell, which wasquickly dragged on board. Five minutes didnot elapse between the moment of enclosingthe animals and that of unscrewing the cover-lid of their prison.

Ardan, Barbicane, Maston, and Nichollwere present on board the boat, and assistedat the operation with an interest which mayreadily be comprehended. Hardly had the


shell been opened when the cat leaped out,slightly bruised, but full of life, and exhibitingno signs whatever of having made an aerialexpedition. No trace, however, of the squir-rel could be discovered. The truth at last be-came apparent—the cat had eaten its fellow-traveler!

J. T. Maston grieved much for the loss ofhis poor squirrel, and proposed to add its caseto that of other martyrs to science.

After this experiment all hesitation, allfear disappeared. Besides, Barbicane’s planswould ensure greater perfection for his projec-tile, and go far to annihilate altogether the ef-fects of the shock. Nothing now remained butto go!

Two days later Michel Ardan received amessage from the President of the UnitedStates, an honor of which he showed himselfespecially sensible.

After the example of his illustrious fellow-countryman, the Marquis de la Fayette, thegovernment had decreed to him the title of“Citizen of the United States of America.”

THEPROJECTILE-VEHICLE

On the completion of the Columbiad the pub-lic interest centered in the projectile itself, thevehicle which was destined to carry the threehardy adventurers into space.

The new plans had been sent to Breadwilland Co., of Albany, with the request for theirspeedy execution. The projectile was conse-quently cast on the 2nd of November, and im-mediately forwarded by the Eastern Railwayto Stones Hill, which it reached without acci-dent on the 10th of that month, where MichelArdan, Barbicane, and Nicholl were waitingimpatiently for it.

The projectile had now to be filled to thedepth of three feet with a bed of water, in-tended to support a water-tight wooden disc,which worked easily within the walls of theprojectile. It was upon this kind of raft thatthe travelers were to take their place. Thisbody of water was divided by horizontal parti-tions, which the shock of the departure would

177


have to break in succession. Then each sheetof the water, from the lowest to the highest,running off into escape tubes toward the topof the projectile, constituted a kind of spring;and the wooden disc, supplied with extremelypowerful plugs, could not strike the lowestplate except after breaking successively thedifferent partitions. Undoubtedly the trav-elers would still have to encounter a violentrecoil after the complete escapement of thewater; but the first shock would be almostentirely destroyed by this powerful spring.The upper parts of the walls were lined witha thick padding of leather, fastened uponsprings of the best steel, behind which the es-cape tubes were completely concealed; thusall imaginable precautions had been taken foraverting the first shock; and if they did getcrushed, they must, as Michel Ardan said, bemade of very bad materials.

The entrance into this metallic tower wasby a narrow aperture contrived in the wallof the cone. This was hermetically closed bya plate of aluminum, fastened internally bypowerful screw-pressure. The travelers couldtherefore quit their prison at pleasure, as soonas they should reach the moon.

Light and view were given by meansof four thick lenticular glass scuttles, twopierced in the circular wall itself, the thirdin the bottom, the fourth in the top. Thesescuttles then were protected against the shockof departure by plates let into solid grooves,which could easily be opened outward by un-screwing them from the inside. Reservoirs


firmly fixed contained water and the nec-essary provisions; and fire and light wereprocurable by means of gas, contained in aspecial reservoir under a pressure of severalatmospheres. They had only to turn a tap, andfor six hours the gas would light and warmthis comfortable vehicle.

There now remained only the question ofair; for allowing for the consumption of airby Barbicane, his two companions, and twodogs which he proposed taking with him, itwas necessary to renew the air of the projec-tile. Now air consists principally of twenty-one parts of oxygen and seventy-nine of nitro-gen. The lungs absorb the oxygen, which is in-dispensable for the support of life, and rejectthe nitrogen. The air expired loses nearly fiveper cent. of the former and contains nearly anequal volume of carbonic acid, produced by thecombustion of the elements of the blood. In anair-tight enclosure, then, after a certain time,all the oxygen of the air will be replaced by thecarbonic acid—a gas fatal to life. There weretwo things to be done then—first, to replacethe absorbed oxygen; secondly, to destroy theexpired carbonic acid; both easy enough to do,by means of chlorate of potassium and caus-tic potash. The former is a salt which ap-pears under the form of white crystals; whenraised to a temperature of 400 degrees it istransformed into chlorure of potassium, andthe oxygen which it contains is entirely liber-ated. Now twenty-eight pounds of chlorate ofpotassium produces seven pounds of oxygen,or 2,400 litres—the quantity necessary for the


travelers during twenty-four hours.Caustic potash has a great affinity for car-

bonic acid; and it is sufficient to shake it inorder for it to seize upon the acid and form bi-carbonate of potassium. By these two meansthey would be enabled to restore to the viti-ated air its life-supporting properties.

It is necessary, however, to add that the ex-periments had hitherto been made in animavili. Whatever its scientific accuracy was, theywere at present ignorant how it would answerwith human beings. The honor of putting itto the proof was energetically claimed by J. T.Maston.

“Since I am not to go,” said the brave ar-tillerist, “I may at least live for a week in theprojectile.”

It would have been hard to refuse him; sothey consented to his wish. A sufficient quan-tity of chlorate of potassium and of causticpotash was placed at his disposal, togetherwith provisions for eight days. And havingshaken hands with his friends, on the 12thof November, at six o’clock A.M., after strictlyinforming them not to open his prison beforethe 20th, at six o’clock P.M., he slid down theprojectile, the plate of which was at once her-metically sealed. What did he do with himselfduring that week? They could get no informa-tion. The thickness of the walls of the projec-tile prevented any sound reaching from the in-side to the outside. On the 20th of November,at six P.M. exactly, the plate was opened. Thefriends of J. T. Maston had been all along in astate of much anxiety; but they were promptly


reassured on hearing a jolly voice shouting aboisterous hurrah.

Presently afterward the secretary of theGun Club appeared at the top of the cone ina triumphant attitude. He had grown fat!

THE TELESCOPEOF THE ROCKYMOUNTAINS

On the 20th of October in the preceding year,after the close of the subscription, the presi-dent of the Gun Club had credited the Obser-vatory of Cambridge with the necessary sumsfor the construction of a gigantic optical in-strument. This instrument was designed forthe purpose of rendering visible on the surfaceof the moon any object exceeding nine feet indiameter.

At the period when the Gun Club essayedtheir great experiment, such instruments hadreached a high degree of perfection, and pro-duced some magnificent results. Two tele-scopes in particular, at this time, were pos-sessed of remarkable power and of giganticdimensions. The first, constructed by Her-schel, was thirty-six feet in length, and hadan object-glass of four feet six inches; it pos-sessed a magnifying power of 6,000. The sec-ond was raised in Ireland, in ParsonstownPark, and belongs to Lord Rosse. The length

183


of this tube is forty-eight feet, and the diam-eter of its object-glass six feet; it magnifies6,400 times, and required an immense erec-tion of brick work and masonry for the pur-pose of working it, its weight being twelve anda half tons.

Still, despite these colossal dimensions,the actual enlargements scarcely exceeded6,000 times in round numbers; consequently,the moon was brought within no nearer anapparent distance than thirty-nine miles; andobjects of less than sixty feet in diameter, un-less they were of very considerable length,were still imperceptible.

In the present case, dealing with a projec-tile nine feet in diameter and fifteen feet long,it became necessary to bring the moon withinan apparent distance of five miles at most;and for that purpose to establish a magnify-ing power of 48,000 times.

Such was the question proposed to the Ob-servatory of Cambridge, There was no lack offunds; the difficulty was purely one of con-struction.

After considerable discussion as to the bestform and principle of the proposed instru-ment the work was finally commenced. Ac-cording to the calculations of the Observatoryof Cambridge, the tube of the new reflectorwould require to be 280 feet in length, and theobject-glass sixteen feet in diameter. Colossalas these dimensions may appear, they werediminutive in comparison with the 10,000 foottelescope proposed by the astronomer Hookeonly a few years ago!

The Telescope of the Rocky Mountains 185

Regarding the choice of locality, that mat-ter was promptly determined. The object wasto select some lofty mountain, and there arenot many of these in the United States. Infact there are but two chains of moderate el-evation, between which runs the magnificentMississippi, the “king of rivers” as these Re-publican Yankees delight to call it.

Eastwards rise the Appalachians, the veryhighest point of which, in New Hampshire,does not exceed the very moderate altitude of5,600 feet.

On the west, however, rise the RockyMountains, that immense range which, com-mencing at the Straights of Magellan, followsthe western coast of Southern America underthe name of the Andes or the Cordilleras, un-til it crosses the Isthmus of Panama, and runsup the whole of North America to the veryborders of the Polar Sea. The highest eleva-tion of this range still does not exceed 10,700feet. With this elevation, nevertheless, theGun Club were compelled to be content, inas-much as they had determined that both tele-scope and Columbiad should be erected withinthe limits of the Union. All the necessary ap-paratus was consequently sent on to the sum-mit of Long’s Peak, in the territory of Mis-souri.

Neither pen nor language can describe thedifficulties of all kinds which the Americanengineers had to surmount, of the prodigiesof daring and skill which they accomplished.They had to raise enormous stones, massivepieces of wrought iron, heavy corner-clamps


and huge portions of cylinder, with an object-glass weighing nearly 30,000 pounds, abovethe line of perpetual snow for more than10,000 feet in height, after crossing desertprairies, impenetrable forests, fearful rapids,far from all centers of population, and in themidst of savage regions, in which every detailof life becomes an almost insoluble problem.And yet, notwithstanding these innumerableobstacles, American genius triumphed. In lessthan a year after the commencement of theworks, toward the close of September, the gi-gantic reflector rose into the air to a height of280 feet. It was raised by means of an enor-mous iron crane; an ingenious mechanism al-lowed it to be easily worked toward all thepoints of the heavens, and to follow the starsfrom the one horizon to the other during theirjourney through the heavens.

It had cost $400,000. The first time itwas directed toward the moon the observersevinced both curiosity and anxiety. What werethey about to discover in the field of this tele-scope which magnified objects 48,000 times?Would they perceive peoples, herds of lunaranimals, towns, lakes, seas? No! there wasnothing which science had not already dis-covered! and on all the points of its disc thevolcanic nature of the moon became deter-minable with the utmost precision.

But the telescope of the Rocky Mountains,before doing its duty to the Gun Club, ren-dered immense services to astronomy. Thanksto its penetrative power, the depths of theheavens were sounded to the utmost extent;

The Telescope of the Rocky Mountains 187

the apparent diameter of a great numberof stars was accurately measured; and Mr.Clark, of the Cambridge staff, resolved theCrab nebula in Taurus, which the reflector ofLord Rosse had never been able to decompose.

FINAL DETAILS

It was the 22nd of November; the departurewas to take place in ten days. One oper-ation alone remained to be accomplished tobring all to a happy termination; an opera-tion delicate and perilous, requiring infiniteprecautions, and against the success of whichCaptain Nicholl had laid his third bet. Itwas, in fact, nothing less than the loadingof the Columbiad, and the introduction intoit of 400,000 pounds of gun-cotton. Nichollhad thought, not perhaps without reason, thatthe handling of such formidable quantities ofpyroxyle would, in all probability, involve agrave catastrophe; and at any rate, that thisimmense mass of eminently inflammable mat-ter would inevitably ignite when submitted tothe pressure of the projectile.

There were indeed dangers accruing as be-fore from the carelessness of the Americans,but Barbicane had set his heart on success,and took all possible precautions. In the firstplace, he was very careful as to the trans-portation of the gun-cotton to Stones Hill. Hehad it conveyed in small quantities, carefullypacked in sealed cases. These were brought by

189


rail from Tampa Town to the camp, and fromthence were taken to the Columbiad by bare-footed workmen, who deposited them in theirplaces by means of cranes placed at the orificeof the cannon. No steam-engine was permit-ted to work, and every fire was extinguishedwithin two miles of the works.

Even in November they feared to work byday, lest the sun’s rays acting on the gun-cotton might lead to unhappy results. This ledto their working at night, by light produced ina vacuum by means of Ruhmkorff ’s appara-tus, which threw an artificial brightness intothe depths of the Columbiad. There the car-tridges were arranged with the utmost reg-ularity, connected by a metallic thread, des-tined to communicate to them all simultane-ously the electric spark, by which means thismass of gun-cotton was eventually to be ig-nited.

By the 28th of November eight hundredcartridges had been placed in the bottom ofthe Columbiad. So far the operation hadbeen successful! But what confusion, whatanxieties, what struggles were undergone byPresident Barbicane! In vain had he refusedadmission to Stones Hill; every day the in-quisitive neighbors scaled the palisades, someeven carrying their imprudence to the pointof smoking while surrounded by bales of gun-cotton. Barbicane was in a perpetual state ofalarm. J. T. Maston seconded him to the bestof his ability, by giving vigorous chase to theintruders, and carefully picking up the stilllighted cigar ends which the Yankees threw

Final Details 191

about. A somewhat difficult task! seeing thatmore than 300,000 persons were gatheredround the enclosure. Michel Ardan had vol-unteered to superintend the transport of thecartridges to the mouth of the Columbiad; butthe president, having surprised him with anenormous cigar in his mouth, while he washunting out the rash spectators to whom hehimself offered so dangerous an example, sawthat he could not trust this fearless smoker,and was therefore obliged to mount a specialguard over him.

At last, Providence being propitious, thiswonderful loading came to a happy termina-tion, Captain Nicholl’s third bet being thuslost. It remained now to introduce the pro-jectile into the Columbiad, and to place it onits soft bed of gun-cotton.

But before doing this, all those things nec-essary for the journey had to be carefully ar-ranged in the projectile vehicle. These neces-saries were numerous; and had Ardan beenallowed to follow his own wishes, there wouldhave been no space remaining for the travel-ers. It is impossible to conceive of half thethings this charming Frenchman wished toconvey to the moon. A veritable stock of use-less trifles! But Barbicane interfered and re-fused admission to anything not absolutelyneeded. Several thermometers, barometers,and telescopes were packed in the instrumentcase.

The travelers being desirous of examingthe moon carefully during their voyage, in or-der to facilitate their studies, they took with


them Boeer and Moeller’s excellent MappaSelenographica, a masterpiece of patienceand observation, which they hoped wouldenable them to identify those physical fea-tures in the moon, with which they were ac-quainted. This map reproduced with scrupu-lous fidelity the smallest details of the lunarsurface which faces the earth; the mountains,valleys, craters, peaks, and ridges were allrepresented, with their exact dimensions, rel-ative positions, and names; from the moun-tains Doerfel and Leibnitz on the eastern sideof the disc, to the Mare frigoris of the NorthPole.

They took also three rifles and threefowling-pieces, and a large quantity of balls,shot, and powder.

“We cannot tell whom we shall have to dealwith,” said Michel Ardan. “Men or beasts maypossibly object to our visit. It is only wise totake all precautions.”

These defensive weapons were accompa-nied by pickaxes, crowbars, saws, and otheruseful implements, not to mention clothingadapted to every temperature, from that of po-lar regions to that of the torrid zone.

Ardan wished to convey a number of an-imals of different sorts, not indeed a pair ofevery known species, as he could not see thenecessity of acclimatizing serpents, tigers, al-ligators, or any other noxious beasts in themoon. “Nevertheless,” he said to Barbicane,“some valuable and useful beasts, bullocks,cows, horses, and donkeys, would bear thejourney very well, and would also be very use-

Final Details 193

ful to us.”“I dare say, my dear Ardan,” replied the

president, “but our projectile-vehicle is noNoah’s ark, from which it differs both in di-mensions and object. Let us confine ourselvesto possibilities.”

After a prolonged discussion, it was agreedthat the travelers should restrict themselvesto a sporting-dog belonging to Nicholl, andto a large Newfoundland. Several packetsof seeds were also included among the nec-essaries. Michel Ardan, indeed, was anxiousto add some sacks full of earth to sow themin; as it was, he took a dozen shrubs carefullywrapped up in straw to plant in the moon.

The important question of provisions stillremained; it being necessary to provideagainst the possibility of their finding themoon absolutely barren. Barbicane managedso successfully, that he supplied them withsufficient rations for a year. These consistedof preserved meats and vegetables, reducedby strong hydraulic pressure to the smallestpossible dimensions. They were also suppliedwith brandy, and took water enough for twomonths, being confident, from astronomicalobservations, that there was no lack of wateron the moon’s surface. As to provisions, doubt-less the inhabitants of the earth would findnourishment somewhere in the moon. Ardannever questioned this; indeed, had he done so,he would never have undertaken the journey.

“Besides,” he said one day to his friends,“we shall not be completely abandoned by ourterrestrial friends; they will take care not to


forget us.”“No, indeed!” replied J. T. Maston.“Nothing would be simpler,” replied Ardan;

“the Columbiad will be always there. Well!whenever the moon is in a favorable conditionas to the zenith, if not to the perigee, that is tosay about once a year, could you not send us ashell packed with provisions, which we mightexpect on some appointed day?”

“Hurrah! hurrah!” cried J. T. Matson;“what an ingenious fellow! what a splendididea! Indeed, my good friends, we shall notforget you!”

“I shall reckon upon you! Then, you see, weshall receive news regularly from the earth,and we shall indeed be stupid if we hit uponno plan for communicating with our goodfriends here!”

These words inspired such confidence, thatMichel Ardan carried all the Gun Club withhim in his enthusiasm. What he said seemedso simple and so easy, so sure of success, thatnone could be so sordidly attached to thisearth as to hesitate to follow the three trav-elers on their lunar expedition.

All being ready at last, it remained to placethe projectile in the Columbiad, an operationabundantly accompanied by dangers and dif-ficulties.

The enormous shell was conveyed to thesummit of Stones Hill. There, powerful cranesraised it, and held it suspended over themouth of the cylinder.

It was a fearful moment! What if thechains should break under its enormous

Final Details 195

weight? The sudden fall of such a body wouldinevitably cause the gun-cotton to explode!

Fortunately this did not happen; and somehours later the projectile-vehicle descendedgently into the heart of the cannon and restedon its couch of pyroxyle, a veritable bed of ex-plosive eider-down. Its pressure had no result,other than the more effectual ramming downof the charge in the Columbiad.

“I have lost,” said the captain, who forth-with paid President Barbicane the sum ofthree thousand dollars.

Barbicane did not wish to accept themoney from one of his fellow-travelers, butgave way at last before the determination ofNicholl, who wished before leaving the earthto fulfill all his engagements.

“Now,” said Michel Ardan, “I have only onething more to wish for you, my brave captain.”

“What is that?” asked Nicholl.“It is that you may lose your two other

bets! Then we shall be sure not to be stoppedon our journey!”

FIRE!

The first of December had arrived! the fatalday! for, if the projectile were not dischargedthat very night at 10h. 48m. 40s. P.M., morethan eighteen years must roll by before themoon would again present herself under thesame conditions of zenith and perigee.

The weather was magnificent. Despite theapproach of winter, the sun shone brightly,and bathed in its radiant light that earthwhich three of its denizens were about toabandon for a new world.

How many persons lost their rest onthe night which preceded this long-expectedday! All hearts beat with disquietude, saveonly the heart of Michel Ardan. That im-perturbable personage came and went withhis habitual business-like air, while nothingwhatever denoted that any unusual matterpreoccupied his mind.

After dawn, an innumerable multitudecovered the prairie which extends, as far asthe eye can reach, round Stones Hill. Everyquarter of an hour the railway brought freshaccessions of sightseers; and, according to thestatement of the Tampa Town Observer, not

197


less than five millions of spectators throngedthe soil of Florida.

For a whole month previously, the mass ofthese persons had bivouacked round the en-closure, and laid the foundations for a townwhich was afterward called “Ardan’s Town.”The whole plain was covered with huts, cot-tages, and tents. Every nation under thesun was represented there; and every lan-guage might be heard spoken at the sametime. It was a perfect Babel re-enacted.All the various classes of American soci-ety were mingled together in terms of ab-solute equality. Bankers, farmers, sailors,cotton-planters, brokers, merchants, water-men, magistrates, elbowed each other in themost free-and-easy way. Louisiana Creolesfraternized with farmers from Indiana; Ken-tucky and Tennessee gentlemen and haughtyVirginians conversed with trappers and thehalf-savages of the lakes and butchers fromCincinnati. Broad-brimmed white hats andPanamas, blue-cotton trousers, light-coloredstockings, cambric frills, were all here dis-played; while upon shirt-fronts, wristbands,and neckties, upon every finger, even upon thevery ears, they wore an assortment of rings,shirt-pins, brooches, and trinkets, of whichthe value only equaled the execrable taste.Women, children, and servants, in equally ex-pensive dress, surrounded their husbands, fa-thers, or masters, who resembled the patri-archs of tribes in the midst of their immensehouseholds.

At meal-times all fell to work upon the

Fire! 199

dishes peculiar to the Southern States, andconsumed with an appetite that threatenedspeedy exhaustion of the victualing powersof Florida, fricasseed frogs, stuffed monkey,fish chowder, underdone ’possum, and raccoonsteaks. And as for the liquors which accom-panied this indigestible repast! The shouts,the vociferations that resounded through thebars and taverns decorated with glasses,tankards, and bottles of marvelous shape,mortars for pounding sugar, and bundles ofstraws! “Mint-julep” roars one of the barmen;“Claret sangaree!” shouts another; “Cocktail!”“Brandy-smash!” “Real mint-julep in the newstyle!” All these cries intermingled produced abewildering and deafening hubbub.

But on this day, 1st of December, suchsounds were rare. No one thought of eatingor drinking, and at four P.M. there were vastnumbers of spectators who had not even takentheir customary lunch! And, a still more sig-nificant fact, even the national passion forplay seemed quelled for the time under thegeneral excitement of the hour.

Up till nightfall, a dull, noiseless agita-tion, such as precedes great catastrophes, ranthrough the anxious multitude. An indescrib-able uneasiness pervaded all minds, an inde-finable sensation which oppressed the heart.Every one wished it was over.

However, about seven o’clock, the heavy si-lence was dissipated. The moon rose abovethe horizon. Millions of hurrahs hailed herappearance. She was punctual to the ren-dezvous, and shouts of welcome greeted her


on all sides, as her pale beams shone grace-fully in the clear heavens. At this moment thethree intrepid travelers appeared. This wasthe signal for renewed cries of still greaterintensity. Instantly the vast assemblage, aswith one accord, struck up the national hymnof the United States, and “Yankee Doodle,”sung by five million of hearty throats, rose likea roaring tempest to the farthest limits of theatmosphere. Then a profound silence reignedthroughout the crowd.

The Frenchman and the two Americanshad by this time entered the enclosure re-served in the center of the multitude. Theywere accompanied by the members of theGun Club, and by deputations sent fromall the European Observatories. Barbicane,cool and collected, was giving his final direc-tions. Nicholl, with compressed lips, his armscrossed behind his back, walked with a firmand measured step. Michel Ardan, alwayseasy, dressed in thorough traveler’s costume,leathern gaiters on his legs, pouch by his side,in loose velvet suit, cigar in mouth, was full ofinexhaustible gayety, laughing, joking, play-ing pranks with J. T. Maston. In one word, hewas the thorough “Frenchman” (and worse, a“Parisian”) to the last moment.

Ten o’clock struck! The moment had ar-rived for taking their places in the projec-tile! The necessary operations for the descent,and the subsequent removal of the cranes andscaffolding that inclined over the mouth of theColumbiad, required a certain period of time.

Barbicane had regulated his chronometer

Fire! 201

to the tenth part of a second by that of Murchi-son the engineer, who was charged with theduty of firing the gun by means of an elec-tric spark. Thus the travelers enclosed withinthe projectile were enabled to follow with theireyes the impassive needle which marked theprecise moment of their departure.

The moment had arrived for saying “good-by!” The scene was a touching one. Despitehis feverish gayety, even Michel Ardan wastouched. J. T. Maston had found in his owndry eyes one ancient tear, which he had doubt-less reserved for the occasion. He dropped iton the forehead of his dear president.

“Can I not go?” he said, “there is still time!”“Impossible, old fellow!” replied Barbi-

cane. A few moments later, the three fellow-travelers had ensconced themselves in theprojectile, and screwed down the plate whichcovered the entrance-aperture. The mouthof the Columbiad, now completely disencum-bered, was open entirely to the sky.

The moon advanced upward in a heaven ofthe purest clearness, outshining in her pas-sage the twinkling light of the stars. Shepassed over the constellation of the Twins,and was now nearing the halfway point be-tween the horizon and the zenith. A ter-rible silence weighed upon the entire scene!Not a breath of wind upon the earth! not asound of breathing from the countless chestsof the spectators! Their hearts seemed afraidto beat! All eyes were fixed upon the yawningmouth of the Columbiad.

Murchison followed with his eye the hand


of his chronometer. It wanted scarce forty sec-onds to the moment of departure, but eachsecond seemed to last an age! At the twen-tieth there was a general shudder, as it oc-curred to the minds of that vast assemblagethat the bold travelers shut up within the pro-jectile were also counting those terrible sec-onds. Some few cries here and there escapedthe crowd.

“Thirty-five! — thirty-six! — thirty-seven!— thirty-eight! — thirty-nine! — forty!FIRE!!!”

Instantly Murchison pressed with his fin-ger the key of the electric battery, restored thecurrent of the fluid, and discharged the sparkinto the breech of the Columbiad.

An appalling unearthly report followed in-stantly, such as can be compared to nothingwhatever known, not even to the roar of thun-der, or the blast of volcanic explosions! Nowords can convey the slightest idea of the ter-rific sound! An immense spout of fire shot upfrom the bowels of the earth as from a crater.The earth heaved up, and with great difficultysome few spectators obtained a momentaryglimpse of the projectile victoriously cleavingthe air in the midst of the fiery vapors!

FOUL WEATHER

At the moment when that pyramid of fire roseto a prodigious height into the air, the glareof flame lit up the whole of Florida; and fora moment day superseded night over a con-siderable extent of the country. This immensecanopy of fire was perceived at a distance ofone hundred miles out at sea, and more thanone ship’s captain entered in his log the ap-pearance of this gigantic meteor.

The discharge of the Columbiad was ac-companied by a perfect earthquake. Floridawas shaken to its very depths. The gases ofthe powder, expanded by heat, forced backthe atmospheric strata with tremendous vio-lence, and this artificial hurricane rushed likea water-spout through the air.

Not a single spectator remained on hisfeet! Men, women children, all lay prostratelike ears of corn under a tempest. There en-sued a terrible tumult; a large number of per-sons were seriously injured. J. T. Maston,who, despite all dictates of prudence, had keptin advance of the mass, was pitched back 120feet, shooting like a projectile over the headsof his fellow-citizens. Three hundred thou-

203


sand persons remained deaf for a time, andas though struck stupefied.

As soon as the first effects were over, theinjured, the deaf, and lastly, the crowd in gen-eral, woke up with frenzied cries. “Hurrahfor Ardan! Hurrah for Barbicane! Hurrahfor Nicholl!” rose to the skies. Thousands ofpersons, noses in air, armed with telescopesand race-glasses, were questioning space, for-getting all contusions and emotions in theone idea of watching for the projectile. Theylooked in vain! It was no longer to be seen,and they were obliged to wait for telegramsfrom Long’s Peak. The director of the Cam-bridge Observatory was at his post on theRocky Mountains; and to him, as a skillfuland persevering astronomer, all observationshad been confided.

But an unforeseen phenomenon came in tosubject the public impatience to a severe trial.

The weather, hitherto so fine, suddenlychanged; the sky became heavy with clouds.It could not have been otherwise after the ter-rible derangement of the atmospheric strata,and the dispersion of the enormous quan-tity of vapor arising from the combustion of200,000 pounds of pyroxyle!

On the morrow the horizon was coveredwith clouds—a thick and impenetrable cur-tain between earth and sky, which unhappilyextended as far as the Rocky Mountains. Itwas a fatality! But since man had chosen soto disturb the atmosphere, he was bound toaccept the consequences of his experiment.

Supposing, now, that the experiment had

Foul Weather 205

succeeded, the travelers having started on the1st of December, at 10h. 46m. 40s. P.M., weredue on the 4th at 0h. P.M. at their destina-tion. So that up to that time it would havebeen very difficult after all to have observed,under such conditions, a body so small as theshell. Therefore they waited with what pa-tience they might.

From the 4th to the 6th of December inclu-sive, the weather remaining much the samein America, the great European instrumentsof Herschel, Rosse, and Foucault, were con-stantly directed toward the moon, for theweather was then magnificent; but the com-parative weakness of their glasses preventedany trustworthy observations being made.

On the 7th the sky seemed to lighten. Theywere in hopes now, but their hope was ofbut short duration, and at night again thickclouds hid the starry vault from all eyes.

Matters were now becoming serious, whenon the 9th the sun reappeared for an instant,as if for the purpose of teasing the Americans.It was received with hisses; and wounded, nodoubt, by such a reception, showed itself verysparing of its rays.

On the 10th, no change! J. T. Maston wentnearly mad, and great fears were entertainedregarding the brain of this worthy individual,which had hitherto been so well preservedwithin his gutta-percha cranium.

But on the 11th one of those inexplica-ble tempests peculiar to those intertropicalregions was let loose in the atmosphere. Aterrific east wind swept away the groups of


clouds which had been so long gathering, andat night the semi-disc of the orb of night rodemajestically amid the soft constellations of thesky.

A NEW STAR

That very night, the startling news so impa-tiently awaited, burst like a thunderbolt overthe United States of the Union, and thence,darting across the ocean, ran through all thetelegraphic wires of the globe. The projectilehad been detected, thanks to the gigantic re-flector of Long’s Peak! Here is the note re-ceived by the director of the Observatory ofCambridge. It contains the scientific conclu-sion regarding this great experiment of theGun Club.

LONG’S PEAK, DECEMBER 12.To the Officers of the Observa-

tory of Cambridge. The projec-tile discharged by the Columbiadat Stones Hill has been detected byMessrs. Belfast and J. T. Maston,12th of December, at 8:47 P.M., themoon having entered her last quar-ter. This projectile has not arrivedat its destination. It has passed bythe side; but sufficiently near to beretained by the lunar attraction.

The rectilinear movement hasthus become changed into a circu-

207


lar motion of extreme velocity, andit is now pursuing an elliptical or-bit round the moon, of which it hasbecome a true satellite.

The elements of this new starwe have as yet been unable to de-termine; we do not yet know the ve-locity of its passage. The distancewhich separates it from the surfaceof the moon may be estimated atabout 2,833 miles.

However, two hypotheses comehere into our consideration.

1. Either the attraction of themoon will end by drawing theminto itself, and the travelers will at-tain their destination; or,

2. The projectile, following animmutable law, will continue togravitate round the moon till theend of time.

At some future time, our obser-vations will be able to determinethis point, but till then the exper-iment of the Gun Club can have noother result than to have providedour solar system with a new star.

J. BELFAST.

To how many questions did this unex-pected dénouement give rise? What mysteri-ous results was the future reserving for theinvestigation of science? At all events, thenames of Nicholl, Barbicane, and Michel Ar-dan were certain to be immortalized in the an-

A New Star 209

nals of astronomy!When the dispatch from Long’s Peak had

once become known, there was but one univer-sal feeling of surprise and alarm. Was it pos-sible to go to the aid of these bold travelers?No! for they had placed themselves beyond thepale of humanity, by crossing the limits im-posed by the Creator on his earthly creatures.They had air enough for two months; they hadvictuals enough for twelve;—but after that?There was only one man who would not admitthat the situation was desperate—he alonehad confidence; and that was their devotedfriend J. T. Maston.

Besides, he never let them get out of sight.His home was henceforth the post at Long’sPeak; his horizon, the mirror of that immensereflector. As soon as the moon rose abovethe horizon, he immediately caught her in thefield of the telescope; he never let her go foran instant out of his sight, and followed herassiduously in her course through the stel-lar spaces. He watched with untiring pa-tience the passage of the projectile across hersilvery disc, and really the worthy man re-mained in perpetual communication with histhree friends, whom he did not despair of see-ing again some day.

“Those three men,” said he, “have carriedinto space all the resources of art, science, andindustry. With that, one can do anything; andyou will see that, some day, they will come outall right.”

ROUND THEMOON

211

THE FIRST PARTOF THIS WORK,AND SERVING ASA PREFACE TOTHE SECOND

During the year 186-, the whole world wasgreatly excited by a scientific experiment un-precedented in the annals of science. Themembers of the Gun Club, a circle of artillery-men formed at Baltimore after the Ameri-can war, conceived the idea of putting them-selves in communication with the moon!—yes,with the moon—by sending to her a projec-tile. Their president, Barbicane, the pro-moter of the enterprise, having consulted theastronomers of the Cambridge Observatoryupon the subject, took all necessary means toensure the success of this extraordinary enter-prise, which had been declared practicable bythe majority of competent judges. After set-ting on foot a public subscription, which real-ized nearly £1,200,000, they began the gigan-

213

214 Round the Moon

tic work.According to the advice forwarded from the

members of the Observatory, the gun destinedto launch the projectile had to be fixed in acountry situated between the 0 and 28th de-grees of north or south latitude, in order toaim at the moon when at the zenith; and itsinitiatory velocity was fixed at twelve thou-sand yards to the second. Launched on the1st of December, at 10hrs. 46m. 40s. P.M., itought to reach the moon four days after itsdeparture, that is on the 5th of December, atmidnight precisely, at the moment of her at-taining her perigee, that is her nearest dis-tance from the earth, which is exactly 86,410leagues (French), or 238,833 miles mean dis-tance (English).

The principal members of the Gun Club,President Barbicane, Major Elphinstone, thesecretary Joseph T. Maston, and other learnedmen, held several meetings, at which theshape and composition of the projectile werediscussed, also the position and nature of thegun, and the quality and quantity of powderto be used. It was decided: First, that the pro-jectile should be a shell made of aluminumwith a diameter of 108 inches and a thick-ness of twelve inches to its walls; and shouldweigh 19,250 pounds. Second, that the gunshould be a Columbiad cast in iron, 900 feetlong, and run perpendicularly into the earth.Third, that the charge should contain 400,000pounds of gun-cotton, which, giving out sixbillions of litres of gas in rear of the projectile,would easily carry it toward the orb of night.

Preface 215

These questions determined PresidentBarbicane, assisted by Murchison the engi-neer, to choose a spot situated in Florida, in27◦ 7’ North latitude, and 77◦ 3’ West (Green-wich) longitude. It was on this spot, after stu-pendous labor, that the Columbiad was castwith full success. Things stood thus, when anincident took place which increased the inter-est attached to this great enterprise a hun-dredfold.

A Frenchman, an enthusiastic Parisian, aswitty as he was bold, asked to be enclosed inthe projectile, in order that he might reach themoon, and reconnoiter this terrestrial satel-lite. The name of this intrepid adventurer wasMichel Ardan. He landed in America, was re-ceived with enthusiasm, held meetings, sawhimself carried in triumph, reconciled Presi-dent Barbicane to his mortal enemy, CaptainNicholl, and, as a token of reconciliation, per-suaded them both to start with him in the pro-jectile. The proposition being accepted, theshape of the projectile was slightly altered.It was made of a cylindro-conical form. Thisspecies of aerial car was lined with strongsprings and partitions to deaden the shockof departure. It was provided with food fora year, water for some months, and gas forsome days. A self-acting apparatus suppliedthe three travelers with air to breathe. At thesame time, on one of the highest points of theRocky Mountains, the Gun Club had a gigan-tic telescope erected, in order that they mightbe able to follow the course of the projectilethrough space. All was then ready.

216 Round the Moon

On the 30th of November, at the hourfixed upon, from the midst of an extraordinarycrowd of spectators, the departure took place,and for the first time, three human beingsquitted the terrestrial globe, and launchedinto inter-planetary space with almost a cer-tainty of reaching their destination. Thesebold travelers, Michel Ardan, President Bar-bicane, and Captain Nicholl, ought to makethe passage in ninety-seven hours, thirteenminutes, and twenty seconds. Consequently,their arrival on the lunar disc could not takeplace until the 5th of December at twelve atnight, at the exact moment when the moonshould be full, and not on the 4th, as somebadly informed journalists had announced.

But an unforeseen circumstance, viz., thedetonation produced by the Columbiad, hadthe immediate effect of troubling the terres-trial atmosphere, by accumulating a largequantity of vapor, a phenomenon which ex-cited universal indignation, for the moon washidden from the eyes of the watchers for sev-eral nights.

The worthy Joseph T. Maston, the staunch-est friend of the three travelers, started forthe Rocky Mountains, accompanied by theHon. J. Belfast, director of the Cambridge Ob-servatory, and reached the station of Long’sPeak, where the telescope was erected whichbrought the moon within an apparent dis-tance of two leagues. The honorable secretaryof the Gun Club wished himself to observe thevehicle of his daring friends.

The accumulation of the clouds in the at-

Preface 217

mosphere prevented all observation on the5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th of Decem-ber. Indeed it was thought that all observa-tions would have to be put off to the 3d of Jan-uary in the following year; for the moon en-tering its last quarter on the 11th, would thenonly present an ever-decreasing portion of herdisc, insufficient to allow of their following thecourse of the projectile.

At length, to the general satisfaction, aheavy storm cleared the atmosphere on thenight of the 11th and 12th of December, andthe moon, with half-illuminated disc, wasplainly to be seen upon the black sky.

That very night a telegram was sent fromthe station of Long’s Peak by Joseph T. Mas-ton and Belfast to the gentlemen of the Cam-bridge Observatory, announcing that on the11th of December at 8h. 47m. P.M., the pro-jectile launched by the Columbiad of StonesHill had been detected by Messrs. Belfastand Maston—that it had deviated from itscourse from some unknown cause, and hadnot reached its destination; but that it hadpassed near enough to be retained by the lu-nar attraction; that its rectilinear movementhad been changed to a circular one, and thatfollowing an elliptical orbit round the star ofnight it had become its satellite. The telegramadded that the elements of this new star hadnot yet been calculated; and indeed three ob-servations made upon a star in three differentpositions are necessary to determine these el-ements. Then it showed that the distance sep-arating the projectile from the lunar surface

218 Round the Moon

“might” be reckoned at about 2,833 miles.It ended with the double hypothesis: ei-

ther the attraction of the moon would draw itto herself, and the travelers thus attain theirend; or that the projectile, held in one im-mutable orbit, would gravitate around the lu-nar disc to all eternity.

With such alternatives, what would be thefate of the travelers? Certainly they had foodfor some time. But supposing they did suc-ceed in their rash enterprise, how would theyreturn? Could they ever return? Should theyhear from them? These questions, debated bythe most learned pens of the day, strongly en-grossed the public attention.

It is advisable here to make a remarkwhich ought to be well considered by hasty ob-servers. When a purely speculative discoveryis announced to the public, it cannot be donewith too much prudence. No one is obliged todiscover either a planet, a comet, or a satel-lite; and whoever makes a mistake in such acase exposes himself justly to the derision ofthe mass. Far better is it to wait; and that iswhat the impatient Joseph T. Maston shouldhave done before sending this telegram forthto the world, which, according to his idea, toldthe whole result of the enterprise. Indeed thistelegram contained two sorts of errors, as wasproved eventually. First, errors of observa-tion, concerning the distance of the projectilefrom the surface of the moon, for on the 11thof December it was impossible to see it; andwhat Joseph T. Maston had seen, or thoughthe saw, could not have been the projectile of

Preface 219

the Columbiad. Second, errors of theory onthe fate in store for the said projectile; forin making it a satellite of the moon, it wasputting it in direct contradiction of all me-chanical laws.

One single hypothesis of the observers ofLong’s Peak could ever be realized, that whichforesaw the case of the travelers (if still alive)uniting their efforts with the lunar attractionto attain the surface of the disc.

Now these men, as clever as they weredaring, had survived the terrible shock con-sequent on their departure, and it is theirjourney in the projectile car which is here re-lated in its most dramatic as well as in itsmost singular details. This recital will destroymany illusions and surmises; but it will givea true idea of the singular changes in storefor such an enterprise; it will bring out thescientific instincts of Barbicane, the industri-ous resources of Nicholl, and the audacioushumor of Michel Ardan. Besides this, it willprove that their worthy friend, Joseph T. Mas-ton, was wasting his time, while leaning overthe gigantic telescope he watched the courseof the moon through the starry space.

220 Round the Moon

TWENTYMINUTES PASTTEN TOFORTY-SEVENMINUTES PASTTEN P. M.

As ten o’clock struck, Michel Ardan, Barbi-cane, and Nicholl, took leave of the numer-ous friends they were leaving on the earth.The two dogs, destined to propagate the ca-nine race on the lunar continents, were al-ready shut up in the projectile.

The three travelers approached the orificeof the enormous cast-iron tube, and a cranelet them down to the conical top of the projec-tile. There, an opening made for the purposegave them access to the aluminum car. Thetackle belonging to the crane being hauledfrom outside, the mouth of the Columbiad wasinstantly disencumbered of its last supports.

Nicholl, once introduced with his compan-

221

222 Round the Moon

ions inside the projectile, began to close theopening by means of a strong plate, held inposition by powerful screws. Other plates,closely fitted, covered the lenticular glasses,and the travelers, hermetically enclosed intheir metal prison, were plunged in profounddarkness.

“And now, my dear companions,” saidMichel Ardan, “let us make ourselves at home;I am a domesticated man and strong in house-keeping. We are bound to make the best ofour new lodgings, and make ourselves com-fortable. And first let us try and see a little.Gas was not invented for moles.”

So saying, the thoughtless fellow lit amatch by striking it on the sole of his boot; andapproached the burner fixed to the recepta-cle, in which the carbonized hydrogen, storedat high pressure, sufficed for the lighting andwarming of the projectile for a hundred andforty-four hours, or six days and six nights.The gas caught fire, and thus lighted the pro-jectile looked like a comfortable room withthickly padded walls, furnished with a circu-lar divan, and a roof rounded in the shape ofa dome.

Michel Ardan examined everything, anddeclared himself satisfied with his installa-tion.

“It is a prison,” said he, “but a travelingprison; and, with the right of putting my noseto the window, I could well stand a lease of ahundred years. You smile, Barbicane. Haveyou any arrière-pensée? Do you say to your-self, ‘This prison may be our tomb?’ Tomb,

10:20 to 10:47 P.M. 223

perhaps; still I would not change it for Ma-homet’s, which floats in space but never ad-vances an inch!”

While Michel Ardan was speaking, Bar-bicane and Nicholl were making their lastpreparations.

Nicholl’s chronometer marked twenty min-utes past ten P.M. when the three travelerswere finally enclosed in their projectile. Thischronometer was set within the tenth of a sec-ond by that of Murchison the engineer. Barbi-cane consulted it.

“My friends,” said he, “it is twenty min-utes past ten. At forty-seven minutes past tenMurchison will launch the electric spark onthe wire which communicates with the chargeof the Columbiad. At that precise momentwe shall leave our spheroid. Thus we stillhave twenty-seven minutes to remain on theearth.”

“Twenty-six minutes thirteen seconds,”replied the methodical Nicholl.

“Well!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, in a good-humored tone, “much may be done in twenty-six minutes. The gravest questions of moralsand politics may be discussed, and evensolved. Twenty-six minutes well employed areworth more than twenty-six years in whichnothing is done. Some seconds of a Pascal ora Newton are more precious than the wholeexistence of a crowd of raw simpletons—”

“And you conclude, then, you everlastingtalker?” asked Barbicane.

“I conclude that we have twenty-six min-utes left,” replied Ardan.

224 Round the Moon

“Twenty-four only,” said Nicholl.“Well, twenty-four, if you like, my noble

captain,” said Ardan; “twenty-four minutes inwhich to investigate—”

“Michel,” said Barbicane, “during the pas-sage we shall have plenty of time to inves-tigate the most difficult questions. For thepresent we must occupy ourselves with ourdeparture.”

“Are we not ready?”“Doubtless; but there are still some pre-

cautions to be taken, to deaden as much aspossible the first shock.”

“Have we not the water-cushions placedbetween the partition-breaks, whose elastic-ity will sufficiently protect us?”

“I hope so, Michel,” replied Barbicane gen-tly, “but I am not sure.”

“Ah, the joker!” exclaimed Michel Ardan.“He hopes!—He is not sure!—and he waits forthe moment when we are encased to makethis deplorable admission! I beg to be allowedto get out!”

“And how?” asked Barbicane.“Humph!” said Michel Ardan, “it is not

easy; we are in the train, and the guard’swhistle will sound before twenty-four minutesare over.”

“Twenty,” said Nicholl.For some moments the three travelers

looked at each other. Then they began to ex-amine the objects imprisoned with them.

“Everything is in its place,” said Barbicane.“We have now to decide how we can best placeourselves to resist the shock. Position can-

10:20 to 10:47 P.M. 225

not be an indifferent matter; and we must, asmuch as possible, prevent the rush of blood tothe head.”

“Just so,” said Nicholl.“Then,” replied Michel Ardan, ready to suit

the action to the word, “let us put our headsdown and our feet in the air, like the clownsin the grand circus.”

“No,” said Barbicane, “let us stretch our-selves on our sides; we shall resist the shockbetter that way. Remember that, when theprojectile starts, it matters little whether weare in it or before it; it amounts to much thesame thing.”

“If it is only ‘much the same thing,’ I maycheer up,” said Michel Ardan.

“Do you approve of my idea, Nicholl?”asked Barbicane.

“Entirely,” replied the captain. “We’ve stillthirteen minutes and a half.”

“That Nicholl is not a man,” exclaimedMichel; “he is a chronometer with seconds, anescape, and eight holes.”

But his companions were not listening;they were taking up their last positions withthe most perfect coolness. They were like twomethodical travelers in a car, seeking to placethemselves as comfortably as possible.

We might well ask ourselves of what mate-rials are the hearts of these Americans made,to whom the approach of the most frightfuldanger added no pulsation.

Three thick and solidly-made couches hadbeen placed in the projectile. Nicholl and Bar-bicane placed them in the center of the disc

226 Round the Moon

forming the floor. There the three travelerswere to stretch themselves some moments be-fore their departure.

During this time, Ardan, not being able tokeep still, turned in his narrow prison like awild beast in a cage, chatting with his friends,speaking to the dogs Diana and Satellite, towhom, as may be seen, he had given signifi-cant names.

“Ah, Diana! Ah, Satellite!” he exclaimed,teasing them; “so you are going to show themoon-dogs the good habits of the dogs of theearth! That will do honor to the canine race!If ever we do come down again, I will bring across type of ‘moon-dogs,’ which will make astir!”

“If there are dogs in the moon,” said Barbi-cane.

“There are,” said Michel Ardan, “just asthere are horses, cows, donkeys, and chickens.I bet that we shall find chickens.”

“A hundred dollars we shall find none!”said Nicholl.

“Done, my captain!” replied Ardan, clasp-ing Nicholl’s hand. “But, by the bye, you havealready lost three bets with our president, asthe necessary funds for the enterprise havebeen found, as the operation of casting hasbeen successful, and lastly, as the Columbiadhas been loaded without accident, six thou-sand dollars.”

“Yes,” replied Nicholl. “Thirty-seven min-utes six seconds past ten.”

“It is understood, captain. Well, beforeanother quarter of an hour you will have to

10:20 to 10:47 P.M. 227

count nine thousand dollars to the president;four thousand because the Columbiad will notburst, and five thousand because the projec-tile will rise more than six miles in the air.”

“I have the dollars,” replied Nicholl, slap-ping the pocket of this coat. “I only ask to beallowed to pay.”

“Come, Nicholl. I see that you are a manof method, which I could never be; but indeedyou have made a series of bets of very littleadvantage to yourself, allow me to tell you.”

“And why?” asked Nicholl.“Because, if you gain the first, the

Columbiad will have burst, and the projectilewith it; and Barbicane will no longer be thereto reimburse your dollars.”

“My stake is deposited at the bank inBaltimore,” replied Barbicane simply; “and ifNicholl is not there, it will go to his heirs.”

“Ah, you practical men!” exclaimed MichelArdan; “I admire you the more for not beingable to understand you.”

“Forty-two minutes past ten!” said Nicholl.“Only five minutes more!” answered Barbi-

cane.“Yes, five little minutes!” replied Michel

Ardan; “and we are enclosed in a projectile, atthe bottom of a gun 900 feet long! And underthis projectile are rammed 400,000 poundsof gun-cotton, which is equal to 1,600,000pounds of ordinary powder! And friendMurchison, with his chronometer in hand,his eye fixed on the needle, his finger on theelectric apparatus, is counting the secondspreparatory to launching us into interplane-

228 Round the Moon

tary space.”“Enough, Michel, enough!” said Barbicane,

in a serious voice; “let us prepare. A few in-stants alone separate us from an eventful mo-ment. One clasp of the hand, my friends.”

“Yes,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, moremoved than he wished to appear; and thethree bold companions were united in a lastembrace.

“God preserve us!” said the religious Bar-bicane.

Michel Ardan and Nicholl stretched them-selves on the couches placed in the center ofthe disc.

“Forty-seven minutes past ten!” murmuredthe captain.

“Twenty seconds more!” Barbicane quicklyput out the gas and lay down by his compan-ions, and the profound silence was only bro-ken by the ticking of the chronometer mark-ing the seconds.

Suddenly a dreadful shock was felt, andthe projectile, under the force of six billionsof litres of gas, developed by the combustionof pyroxyle, mounted into space.

THE FIRSTHALF-HOUR

What had happened? What effect had thisfrightful shock produced? Had the ingenuityof the constructors of the projectile obtainedany happy result? Had the shock been dead-ened, thanks to the springs, the four plugs,the water-cushions, and the partition-breaks?Had they been able to subdue the frightfulpressure of the initiatory speed of more than11,000 yards, which was enough to traverseParis or New York in a second? This was evi-dently the question suggested to the thousandspectators of this moving scene. They forgotthe aim of the journey, and thought only of thetravelers. And if one of them—Joseph T. Mas-ton for example—could have cast one glimpseinto the projectile, what would he have seen?

Nothing then. The darkness was pro-found. But its cylindro-conical partitions hadresisted wonderfully. Not a rent or a dent any-where! The wonderful projectile was not evenheated under the intense deflagration of thepowder, nor liquefied, as they seemed to fear,in a shower of aluminum.

229

230 Round the Moon

The interior showed but little disorder; in-deed, only a few objects had been violentlythrown toward the roof; but the most impor-tant seemed not to have suffered from theshock at all; their fixtures were intact.

On the movable disc, sunk down to the bot-tom by the smashing of the partition-breaksand the escape of the water, three bodies layapparently lifeless. Barbicane, Nicholl, andMichel Ardan—did they still breathe? or wasthe projectile nothing now but a metal coffin,bearing three corpses into space?

Some minutes after the departure of theprojectile, one of the bodies moved, shook itsarms, lifted its head, and finally succeeded ingetting on its knees. It was Michel Ardan. Hefelt himself all over, gave a sonorous “Hem!”and then said:

“Michel Ardan is whole. How about theothers?”

The courageous Frenchman tried to rise,but could not stand. His head swam, from therush of blood; he was blind; he was a drunkenman.

“Bur-r!” said he. “It produces the same ef-fect as two bottles of Corton, though perhapsless agreeable to swallow.” Then, passing hishand several times across his forehead andrubbing his temples, he called in a firm voice:

“Nicholl! Barbicane!”He waited anxiously. No answer; not even

a sigh to show that the hearts of his compan-ions were still beating. He called again. Thesame silence.

“The devil!” he exclaimed. “They look


as if they had fallen from a fifth story ontheir heads. Bah!” he added, with that im-perturbable confidence which nothing couldcheck, “if a Frenchman can get on his knees,two Americans ought to be able to get on theirfeet. But first let us light up.”

Ardan felt the tide of life return by degrees.His blood became calm, and returned to its ac-customed circulation. Another effort restoredhis equilibrium. He succeeded in rising, drewa match from his pocket, and approaching theburner lighted it. The receiver had not suf-fered at all. The gas had not escaped. Be-sides, the smell would have betrayed it; andin that case Michel Ardan could not have car-ried a lighted match with impunity throughthe space filled with hydrogen. The gas mix-ing with the air would have produced a deto-nating mixture, and the explosion would havefinished what the shock had perhaps begun.When the burner was lit, Ardan leaned overthe bodies of his companions: they were lyingone on the other, an inert mass, Nicholl above,Barbicane underneath.

Ardan lifted the captain, propped him upagainst the divan, and began to rub vig-orously. This means, used with judgment,restored Nicholl, who opened his eyes, andinstantly recovering his presence of mind,seized Ardan’s hand and looked around him.

“And Barbicane?” said he.“Each in turn,” replied Michel Ardan. “I

began with you, Nicholl, because you were onthe top. Now let us look to Barbicane.” Sayingwhich, Ardan and Nicholl raised the president

232 Round the Moon

of the Gun Club and laid him on the divan. Heseemed to have suffered more than either ofhis companions; he was bleeding, but Nichollwas reassured by finding that the hemorrhagecame from a slight wound on the shoulder, amere graze, which he bound up carefully.

Still, Barbicane was a long time coming tohimself, which frightened his friends, who didnot spare friction.

“He breathes though,” said Nicholl,putting his ear to the chest of the woundedman.

“Yes,” replied Ardan, “he breathes like aman who has some notion of that daily oper-ation. Rub, Nicholl; let us rub harder.” Andthe two improvised practitioners worked sohard and so well that Barbicane recovered hissenses. He opened his eyes, sat up, took histwo friends by the hands, and his first wordswere—

“Nicholl, are we moving?”Nicholl and Ardan looked at each other;

they had not yet troubled themselves aboutthe projectile; their first thought had been forthe traveler, not for the car.

“Well, are we really moving?” repeatedMichel Ardan.

“Or quietly resting on the soil of Florida?”asked Nicholl.

“Or at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico?”added Michel Ardan.

“What an idea!” exclaimed the president.And this double hypothesis suggested by

his companions had the effect of recalling himto his senses. In any case they could not de-


cide on the position of the projectile. Its ap-parent immovability, and the want of com-munication with the outside, prevented themfrom solving the question. Perhaps the projec-tile was unwinding its course through space.Perhaps after a short rise it had fallen uponthe earth, or even in the Gulf of Mexico—afall which the narrowness of the peninsula ofFlorida would render not impossible.

The case was serious, the problem inter-esting, and one that must be solved as soonas possible. Thus, highly excited, Barbicane’smoral energy triumphed over physical weak-ness, and he rose to his feet. He listened.Outside was perfect silence; but the thickpadding was enough to intercept all soundscoming from the earth. But one circumstancestruck Barbicane, viz., that the temperatureinside the projectile was singularly high. Thepresident drew a thermometer from its caseand consulted it. The instrument showed 81◦

Fahr.“Yes,” he exclaimed, “yes, we are moving!

This stifling heat, penetrating through thepartitions of the projectile, is produced by itsfriction on the atmospheric strata. It will soondiminish, because we are already floating inspace, and after having nearly stifled, we shallhave to suffer intense cold.

“What!” said Michel Ardan. “According toyour showing, Barbicane, we are already be-yond the limits of the terrestrial atmosphere?”

“Without a doubt, Michel. Listen to me.It is fifty-five minutes past ten; we have beengone about eight minutes; and if our initiatory

234 Round the Moon

speed has not been checked by the friction,six seconds would be enough for us to passthrough the forty miles of atmosphere whichsurrounds the globe.”

“Just so,” replied Nicholl; “but in whatproportion do you estimate the diminution ofspeed by friction?”

“In the proportion of one-third, Nicholl.This diminution is considerable, but accordingto my calculations it is nothing less. If, then,we had an initiatory speed of 12,000 yards, onleaving the atmosphere this speed would bereduced to 9,165 yards. In any case we havealready passed through this interval, and—”

“And then,” said Michel Ardan, “friendNicholl has lost his two bets: four thousanddollars because the Columbiad did not burst;five thousand dollars because the projectilehas risen more than six miles. Now, Nicholl,pay up.”

“Let us prove it first,” said the captain,“and we will pay afterward. It is quite possi-ble that Barbicane’s reasoning is correct, andthat I have lost my nine thousand dollars. Buta new hypothesis presents itself to my mind,and it annuls the wager.”

“What is that?” asked Barbicane quickly.“The hypothesis that, for some reason or

other, fire was never set to the powder, and wehave not started at all.”

“My goodness, captain,” exclaimed MichelArdan, “that hypothesis is not worthy of mybrain! It cannot be a serious one. For have wenot been half annihilated by the shock? DidI not recall you to life? Is not the president’s


shoulder still bleeding from the blow it has re-ceived?”

“Granted,” replied Nicholl; “but one ques-tion.”

“Well, captain?”“Did you hear the detonation, which cer-

tainly ought to be loud?”“No,” replied Ardan, much surprised; “cer-

tainly I did not hear the detonation.”“And you, Barbicane?”“Nor I, either.”“Very well,” said Nicholl.“Well now,” murmured the president “why

did we not hear the detonation?”The three friends looked at each other with

a disconcerted air. It was quite an inexplica-ble phenomenon. The projectile had started,and consequently there must have been a det-onation.

“Let us first find out where we are,” saidBarbicane, “and let down this panel.”

This very simple operation was soon ac-complished.

The nuts which held the bolts to the outerplates of the right-hand scuttle gave way un-der the pressure of the English wrench. Thesebolts were pushed outside, and the bufferscovered with India-rubber stopped up theholes which let them through. Immediatelythe outer plate fell back upon its hinges like aporthole, and the lenticular glass which closedthe scuttle appeared. A similar one was letinto the thick partition on the opposite side ofthe projectile, another in the top of the dome,and finally a fourth in the middle of the base.

236 Round the Moon

They could, therefore, make observations infour different directions; the firmament by theside and most direct windows, the earth or themoon by the upper and under openings in theprojectile.

Barbicane and his two companions imme-diately rushed to the uncovered window. Butit was lit by no ray of light. Profound dark-ness surrounded them, which, however, didnot prevent the president from exclaiming:

“No, my friends, we have not fallen backupon the earth; no, nor are we submerged inthe Gulf of Mexico. Yes! we are mounting intospace. See those stars shining in the night,and that impenetrable darkness heaped upbetween the earth and us!”

“Hurrah! hurrah!” exclaimed Michel Ar-dan and Nicholl in one voice.

Indeed, this thick darkness proved thatthe projectile had left the earth, for the soil,brilliantly lit by the moon-beams would havebeen visible to the travelers, if they hadbeen lying on its surface. This darkness alsoshowed that the projectile had passed the at-mospheric strata, for the diffused light spreadin the air would have been reflected on themetal walls, which reflection was wanting.This light would have lit the window, and thewindow was dark. Doubt was no longer possi-ble; the travelers had left the earth.

“I have lost,” said Nicholl.“I congratulate you,” replied Ardan.“Here are the nine thousand dollars,” said

the captain, drawing a roll of paper dollarsfrom his pocket.


“Will you have a receipt for it?” asked Bar-bicane, taking the sum.

“If you do not mind,” answered Nicholl; “itis more business-like.”

And coolly and seriously, as if he had beenat his strong-box, the president drew forthhis notebook, tore out a blank leaf, wrote aproper receipt in pencil, dated and signed itwith the usual flourish,1 and gave it to thecaptain, who carefully placed it in his pocket-book. Michel Ardan, taking off his hat, bowedto his two companions without speaking. Somuch formality under such circumstances lefthim speechless. He had never before seenanything so “American.”

This affair settled, Barbicane and Nichollhad returned to the window, and were watch-ing the constellations. The stars looked likebright points on the black sky. But from thatside they could not see the orb of night, which,traveling from east to west, would rise by de-grees toward the zenith. Its absence drew thefollowing remark from Ardan:

“And the moon; will she perchance fail atour rendezvous?”

“Do not alarm yourself,” said Barbicane;“our future globe is at its post, but we cannotsee her from this side; let us open the other.”

As Barbicane was about leaving the win-dow to open the opposite scuttle, his atten-tion was attracted by the approach of a bril-liant object. It was an enormous disc, whosecolossal dimension could not be estimated. Its

1This is a purely French habit.

238 Round the Moon

face, which was turned to the earth, was verybright. One might have thought it a smallmoon reflecting the light of the large one. Sheadvanced with great speed, and seemed to de-scribe an orbit round the earth, which wouldintersect the passage of the projectile. Thisbody revolved upon its axis, and exhibited thephenomena of all celestial bodies abandonedin space.

“Ah!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “What isthat? another projectile?”

Barbicane did not answer. The appearanceof this enormous body surprised and troubledhim. A collision was possible, and might beattended with deplorable results; either theprojectile would deviate from its path, or ashock, breaking its impetus, might precipi-tate it to earth; or, lastly, it might be irre-sistibly drawn away by the powerful asteroid.The president caught at a glance the conse-quences of these three hypotheses, either ofwhich would, one way or the other, bring theirexperiment to an unsuccessful and fatal ter-mination. His companions stood silently look-ing into space. The object grew rapidly as itapproached them, and by an optical illusionthe projectile seemed to be throwing itself be-fore it.

“By Jove!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “weshall run into one another!”

Instinctively the travelers drew back.Their dread was great, but it did not lastmany seconds. The asteroid passed severalhundred yards from the projectile and dis-appeared, not so much from the rapidity of


its course, as that its face being opposite themoon, it was suddenly merged into the perfectdarkness of space.

“A happy journey to you,” exclaimed MichelArdan, with a sigh of relief. “Surely infinity ofspace is large enough for a poor little projec-tile to walk through without fear. Now, whatis this portentous globe which nearly struckus?”

“I know,” replied Barbicane.“Oh, indeed! you know everything.”“It is,” said Barbicane, “a simple meteorite,

but an enormous one, which the attraction ofthe earth has retained as a satellite.”

“Is it possible!” exclaimed Michel Ardan;“the earth then has two moons like Neptune?”

“Yes, my friends, two moons, though itpasses generally for having only one; but thissecond moon is so small, and its speed sogreat, that the inhabitants of the earth cannotsee it. It was by noticing disturbances that aFrench astronomer, M. Petit, was able to de-termine the existence of this second satelliteand calculate its elements. According to hisobservations, this meteorite will accomplishits revolution around the earth in three hoursand twenty minutes, which implies a wonder-ful rate of speed.”

“Do all astronomers admit the existence ofthis satellite?” asked Nicholl.

“No,” replied Barbicane; “but if, like us,they had met it, they could no longer doubtit. Indeed, I think that this meteorite, which,had it struck the projectile, would have muchembarrassed us, will give us the means of de-

240 Round the Moon

ciding what our position in space is.”“How?” said Ardan.“Because its distance is known, and when

we met it, we were exactly four thousand sixhundred and fifty miles from the surface of theterrestrial globe.”

“More than two thousand French leagues,”exclaimed Michel Ardan. “That beats theexpress trains of the pitiful globe called theearth.”

“I should think so,” replied Nicholl, con-sulting his chronometer; “it is eleven o’clock,and it is only thirteen minutes since we leftthe American continent.”

“Only thirteen minutes?” said Barbicane.“Yes,” said Nicholl; “and if our initiatory

speed of twelve thousand yards has been keptup, we shall have made about twenty thou-sand miles in the hour.”

“That is all very well, my friends,” said thepresident, “but the insoluble question still re-mains. Why did we not hear the detonation ofthe Columbiad?”

For want of an answer the conversationdropped, and Barbicane began thoughtfully tolet down the shutter of the second side. Hesucceeded; and through the uncovered glassthe moon filled the projectile with a brilliantlight. Nicholl, as an economical man, putout the gas, now useless, and whose bril-liancy prevented any observation of the inter-planetary space.

The lunar disc shone with wonderful pu-rity. Her rays, no longer filtered through thevapory atmosphere of the terrestrial globe,


shone through the glass, filling the air in theinterior of the projectile with silvery reflec-tions. The black curtain of the firmamentin reality heightened the moon’s brilliancy,which in this void of ether unfavorable to dif-fusion did not eclipse the neighboring stars.The heavens, thus seen, presented quite anew aspect, and one which the human eyecould never dream of. One may conceive theinterest with which these bold men watchedthe orb of night, the great aim of their jour-ney.

In its motion the earth’s satellite was in-sensibly nearing the zenith, the mathemati-cal point which it ought to attain ninety-sixhours later. Her mountains, her plains, everyprojection was as clearly discernible to theireyes as if they were observing it from somespot upon the earth; but its light was devel-oped through space with wonderful intensity.The disc shone like a platinum mirror. Of theearth flying from under their feet, the travel-ers had lost all recollection.

It was Captain Nicholl who first recalledtheir attention to the vanishing globe.

“Yes,” said Michel Ardan, “do not let usbe ungrateful to it. Since we are leaving ourcountry, let our last looks be directed to it. Iwish to see the earth once more before it isquite hidden from my eyes.”

To satisfy his companions, Barbicane be-gan to uncover the window at the bottom ofthe projectile, which would allow them to ob-serve the earth direct. The disc, which theforce of the projection had beaten down to

242 Round the Moon

the base, was removed, not without difficulty.Its fragments, placed carefully against a wall,might serve again upon occasion. Then a cir-cular gap appeared, nineteen inches in diam-eter, hollowed out of the lower part of the pro-jectile. A glass cover, six inches thick andstrengthened with upper fastenings, closed ittightly. Beneath was fixed an aluminum plate,held in place by bolts. The screws being un-done, and the bolts let go, the plate fell down,and visible communication was establishedbetween the interior and the exterior.

Michel Ardan knelt by the glass. It wascloudy, seemingly opaque.

“Well!” he exclaimed, “and the earth?”“The earth?” said Barbicane. “There it is.”“What! that little thread; that silver cres-

cent?”“Doubtless, Michel. In four days, when the

moon will be full, at the very time we shallreach it, the earth will be new, and will onlyappear to us as a slender crescent which willsoon disappear, and for some days will be en-veloped in utter darkness.”

“That the earth?” repeated Michel Ardan,looking with all his eyes at the thin slip of hisnative planet.

The explanation given by President Barbi-cane was correct. The earth, with respect tothe projectile, was entering its last phase. Itwas in its octant, and showed a crescent finelytraced on the dark background of the sky. Itslight, rendered bluish by the thick strata ofthe atmosphere was less intense than that ofthe crescent moon, but it was of considerable


dimensions, and looked like an enormous archstretched across the firmament. Some partsbrilliantly lighted, especially on its concavepart, showed the presence of high mountains,often disappearing behind thick spots, whichare never seen on the lunar disc. They wererings of clouds placed concentrically round theterrestrial globe.

While the travelers were trying to piercethe profound darkness, a brilliant cluster ofshooting stars burst upon their eyes. Hun-dreds of meteorites, ignited by the friction ofthe atmosphere, irradiated the shadow of theluminous train, and lined the cloudy parts ofthe disc with their fire. At this period theearth was in its perihelion, and the monthof December is so propitious to these shoot-ing stars, that astronomers have counted asmany as twenty-four thousand in an hour.But Michel Ardan, disdaining scientific rea-sonings, preferred thinking that the earth wasthus saluting the departure of her three chil-dren with her most brilliant fireworks.

Indeed this was all they saw of the globelost in the solar world, rising and setting tothe great planets like a simple morning orevening star! This globe, where they had leftall their affections, was nothing more than afugitive crescent!

Long did the three friends look with-out speaking, though united in heart, whilethe projectile sped onward with an ever-decreasing speed. Then an irresistible drowsi-ness crept over their brain. Was it weari-ness of body and mind? No doubt; for after

244 Round the Moon

the over-excitement of those last hours passedupon earth, reaction was inevitable.

“Well,” said Nicholl, “since we must sleep,let us sleep.”

And stretching themselves on theircouches, they were all three soon in aprofound slumber.

But they had not forgotten themselvesmore than a quarter of an hour, when Barbi-cane sat up suddenly, and rousing his compan-ions with a loud voice, exclaimed—

“I have found it!”“What have you found?” asked Michel Ar-

dan, jumping from his bed.“The reason why we did not hear the deto-

nation of the Columbiad.”“And it is—?” said Nicholl.“Because our projectile traveled faster

than the sound!”

THEIR PLACE OFSHELTER

This curious but certainly correct explanationonce given, the three friends returned to theirslumbers. Could they have found a calmer ormore peaceful spot to sleep in? On the earth,houses, towns, cottages, and country feel ev-ery shock given to the exterior of the globe.On sea, the vessels rocked by the waves arestill in motion; in the air, the balloon oscillatesincessantly on the fluid strata of divers densi-ties. This projectile alone, floating in perfectspace, in the midst of perfect silence, offeredperfect repose.

Thus the sleep of our adventurous travel-ers might have been indefinitely prolonged, ifan unexpected noise had not awakened themat about seven o’clock in the morning of the2nd of December, eight hours after their de-parture.

This noise was a very natural barking.“The dogs! it is the dogs!” exclaimed Michel

Ardan, rising at once.“They are hungry,” said Nicholl.“By Jove!” replied Michel, “we have forgot-

245

246 Round the Moon

ten them.”“Where are they?” asked Barbicane.They looked and found one of the ani-

mals crouched under the divan. Terrified andshaken by the initiatory shock, it had re-mained in the corner till its voice returnedwith the pangs of hunger. It was the amiableDiana, still very confused, who crept out of herretreat, though not without much persuasion,Michel Ardan encouraging her with most gra-cious words.

“Come, Diana,” said he: “come, my girl!thou whose destiny will be marked in the cy-negetic annals; thou whom the pagans wouldhave given as companion to the god Anubis,and Christians as friend to St. Roch; thou whoart rushing into interplanetary space, andwilt perhaps be the Eve of all Selenite dogs!come, Diana, come here.”

Diana, flattered or not, advanced by de-grees, uttering plaintive cries.

“Good,” said Barbicane: “I see Eve, butwhere is Adam?”

“Adam?” replied Michel; “Adam cannot befar off; he is there somewhere; we must callhim. Satellite! here, Satellite!”

But Satellite did not appear. Diana wouldnot leave off howling. They found, however,that she was not bruised, and they gave hera pie, which silenced her complaints. As toSatellite, he seemed quite lost. They had tohunt a long time before finding him in oneof the upper compartments of the projectile,whither some unaccountable shock must haveviolently hurled him. The poor beast, much


hurt, was in a piteous state.“The devil!” said Michel.They brought the unfortunate dog down

with great care. Its skull had been brokenagainst the roof, and it seemed unlikely thathe could recover from such a shock. Mean-while, he was stretched comfortably on a cush-ion. Once there, he heaved a sigh.

“We will take care of you,” said Michel; “weare responsible for your existence. I wouldrather lose an arm than a paw of my poorSatellite.”

Saying which, he offered some water to thewounded dog, who swallowed it with avidity.

This attention paid, the travelers watchedthe earth and the moon attentively. The earthwas now only discernible by a cloudy disc end-ing in a crescent, rather more contracted thanthat of the previous evening; but its expansewas still enormous, compared with that ofthe moon, which was approaching nearer andnearer to a perfect circle.

“By Jove!” said Michel Ardan, “I am reallysorry that we did not start when the earth wasfull, that is to say, when our globe was in op-position to the sun.”

“Why?” said Nicholl.“Because we should have seen our conti-

nents and seas in a new light—the first re-splendent under the solar rays, the lattercloudy as represented on some maps of theworld. I should like to have seen those poles ofthe earth on which the eye of man has neveryet rested.

“I dare say,” replied Barbicane; “but if the

248 Round the Moon

earth had been full, the moon would havebeen new; that is to say, invisible, because ofthe rays of the sun. It is better for us to see thedestination we wish to reach, than the point ofdeparture.”

“You are right, Barbicane,” replied CaptainNicholl; “and, besides, when we have reachedthe moon, we shall have time during the longlunar nights to consider at our leisure theglobe on which our likenesses swarm.”

“Our likenesses!” exclaimed Michel Ardan;“They are no more our likenesses than the Se-lenites are! We inhabit a new world, peopledby ourselves—the projectile! I am Barbicane’slikeness, and Barbicane is Nicholl’s. Beyondus, around us, human nature is at an end, andwe are the only population of this microcosmuntil we become pure Selenites.”

“In about eighty-eight hours,” replied thecaptain.

“Which means to say?” asked Michel Ar-dan.

“That it is half-past eight,” replied Nicholl.“Very well,” retorted Michel; “then it is im-

possible for me to find even the shadow of areason why we should not go to breakfast.”

Indeed the inhabitants of the new starcould not live without eating, and their stom-achs were suffering from the imperious lawsof hunger. Michel Ardan, as a Frenchman,was declared chief cook, an important func-tion, which raised no rival. The gas gave suffi-cient heat for the culinary apparatus, and theprovision box furnished the elements of thisfirst feast.


The breakfast began with three bowls ofexcellent soup, thanks to the liquefaction inhot water of those precious cakes of Liebig,prepared from the best parts of the ruminantsof the Pampas. To the soup succeeded somebeefsteaks, compressed by an hydraulic press,as tender and succulent as if brought straightfrom the kitchen of an English eating-house.Michel, who was imaginative, maintainedthat they were even “red.”

Preserved vegetables ("fresher than na-ture,” said the amiable Michel) succeeded thedish of meat; and was followed by some cupsof tea with bread and butter, after the Ameri-can fashion.

The beverage was declared exquisite, andwas due to the infusion of the choicest leaves,of which the emperor of Russia had givensome chests for the benefit of the travelers.

And lastly, to crown the repast, Ardan hadbrought out a fine bottle of Nuits, which wasfound “by chance” in the provision-box. Thethree friends drank to the union of the earthand her satellite.

And, as if he had not already done enoughfor the generous wine which he had distilledon the slopes of Burgundy, the sun chose to bepart of the party. At this moment the projec-tile emerged from the conical shadow cast bythe terrestrial globe, and the rays of the ra-diant orb struck the lower disc of the projec-tile direct occasioned by the angle which themoon’s orbit makes with that of the earth.

“The sun!” exclaimed Michel Ardan.“No doubt,” replied Barbicane; “I expected

250 Round the Moon

it.”“But,” said Michel, “the conical shadow

which the earth leaves in space extends be-yond the moon?”

“Far beyond it, if the atmospheric refrac-tion is not taken into consideration,” said Bar-bicane. “But when the moon is envelopedin this shadow, it is because the centers ofthe three stars, the sun, the earth, and themoon, are all in one and the same straightline. Then the nodes coincide with the phasesof the moon, and there is an eclipse. If wehad started when there was an eclipse of themoon, all our passage would have been in theshadow, which would have been a pity.”

“Why?”“Because, though we are floating in space,

our projectile, bathed in the solar rays, willreceive light and heat. It economizes the gas,which is in every respect a good economy.”

Indeed, under these rays which no at-mosphere can temper, either in temperatureor brilliancy, the projectile grew warm andbright, as if it had passed suddenly from win-ter to summer. The moon above, the sun be-neath, were inundating it with their fire.

“It is pleasant here,” said Nicholl.“I should think so,” said Michel Ardan.

“With a little earth spread on our aluminumplanet we should have green peas in twenty-four hours. I have but one fear, which is thatthe walls of the projectile might melt.”

“Calm yourself, my worthy friend,” repliedBarbicane; “the projectile withstood a verymuch higher temperature than this as it slid


through the strata of the atmosphere. Ishould not be surprised if it did not look like ameteor on fire to the eyes of the spectators inFlorida.”

“But then J. T. Maston will think we areroasted!”

“What astonishes me,” said Barbicane, “isthat we have not been. That was a danger wehad not provided for.”

“I feared it,” said Nicholl simply.“And you never mentioned it, my sublime

captain,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, claspinghis friend’s hand.

Barbicane now began to settle himself inthe projectile as if he was never to leave it.One must remember that this aerial car hada base with a superficies of fifty-four squarefeet. Its height to the roof was twelve feet.Carefully laid out in the inside, and little en-cumbered by instruments and traveling uten-sils, which each had their particular place, itleft the three travelers a certain freedom ofmovement. The thick window inserted in thebottom could bear any amount of weight, andBarbicane and his companions walked upon itas if it were solid plank; but the sun striking itdirectly with its rays lit the interior of the pro-jectile from beneath, thus producing singulareffects of light.

They began by investigating the state oftheir store of water and provisions, neither ofwhich had suffered, thanks to the care takento deaden the shock. Their provisions wereabundant, and plentiful enough to last thethree travelers for more than a year. Barbi-

252 Round the Moon

cane wished to be cautious, in case the projec-tile should land on a part of the moon whichwas utterly barren. As to water and the re-serve of brandy, which consisted of fifty gal-lons, there was only enough for two months;but according to the last observations of as-tronomers, the moon had a low, dense, andthick atmosphere, at least in the deep valleys,and there springs and streams could not fail.Thus, during their passage, and for the firstyear of their settlement on the lunar conti-nent, these adventurous explorers would suf-fer neither hunger nor thirst.

Now about the air in the projectile. There,too, they were secure. Reiset and Regnaut’sapparatus, intended for the production of oxy-gen, was supplied with chlorate of potassiumfor two months. They necessarily consumed acertain quantity of gas, for they were obligedto keep the producing substance at a temper-ature of above 400◦. But there again theywere all safe. The apparatus only wanted alittle care. But it was not enough to renewthe oxygen; they must absorb the carbonicacid produced by expiration. During the lasttwelve hours the atmosphere of the projec-tile had become charged with this deleteriousgas. Nicholl discovered the state of the air byobserving Diana panting painfully. The car-bonic acid, by a phenomenon similar to thatproduced in the famous Grotto del Cane, hadcollected at the bottom of the projectile owingto its weight. Poor Diana, with her head low,would suffer before her masters from the pres-ence of this gas. But Captain Nicholl hastened


to remedy this state of things, by placing onthe floor several receivers containing causticpotash, which he shook about for a time, andthis substance, greedy of carbonic acid, sooncompletely absorbed it, thus purifying the air.

An inventory of instruments was then be-gun. The thermometers and barometers hadresisted, all but one minimum thermometer,the glass of which was broken. An excel-lent aneroid was drawn from the wadded boxwhich contained it and hung on the wall. Ofcourse it was only affected by and marked thepressure of the air inside the projectile, but italso showed the quantity of moisture which itcontained. At that moment its needle oscil-lated between 25.24 and 25.08.

It was fine weather.Barbicane had also brought several com-

passes, which he found intact. One must un-derstand that under present conditions theirneedles were acting wildly, that is withoutany constant direction. Indeed, at the dis-tance they were from the earth, the magneticpole could have no perceptible action upon theapparatus; but the box placed on the lunardisc might perhaps exhibit some strange phe-nomena. In any case it would be interestingto see whether the earth’s satellite submittedlike herself to its magnetic influence.

A hypsometer to measure the height of thelunar mountains, a sextant to take the heightof the sun, glasses which would be useful asthey neared the moon, all these instrumentswere carefully looked over, and pronouncedgood in spite of the violent shock.

254 Round the Moon

As to the pickaxes and different toolswhich were Nicholl’s especial choice; as tothe sacks of different kinds of grain andshrubs which Michel Ardan hoped to trans-plant into Selenite ground, they were stowedaway in the upper part of the projectile. Therewas a sort of granary there, loaded withthings which the extravagant Frenchman hadheaped up. What they were no one knew,and the good-tempered fellow did not explain.Now and then he climbed up by cramp-ironsriveted to the walls, but kept the inspectionto himself. He arranged and rearranged, heplunged his hand rapidly into certain myste-rious boxes, singing in one of the falsest ofvoices an old French refrain to enliven the sit-uation.

Barbicane observed with some interestthat his guns and other arms had not beendamaged. These were important, because,heavily loaded, they were to help lessen thefall of the projectile, when drawn by the lu-nar attraction (after having passed the pointof neutral attraction) on to the moon’s surface;a fall which ought to be six times less rapidthan it would have been on the earth’s surface,thanks to the difference of bulk. The inspec-tion ended with general satisfaction, wheneach returned to watch space through the sidewindows and the lower glass coverlid.

There was the same view. The whole ex-tent of the celestial sphere swarmed withstars and constellations of wonderful purity,enough to drive an astronomer out of hismind! On one side the sun, like the mouth


of a lighted oven, a dazzling disc without ahalo, standing out on the dark background ofthe sky! On the other, the moon returning itsfire by reflection, and apparently motionlessin the midst of the starry world. Then, a largespot seemingly nailed to the firmament, bor-dered by a silvery cord; it was the earth! Hereand there nebulous masses like large flakesof starry snow; and from the zenith to thenadir, an immense ring formed by an impal-pable dust of stars, the “Milky Way,” in themidst of which the sun ranks only as a starof the fourth magnitude. The observers couldnot take their eyes from this novel specta-cle, of which no description could give an ad-equate idea. What reflections it suggested!What emotions hitherto unknown awoke intheir souls! Barbicane wished to begin the re-lation of his journey while under its first im-pressions, and hour after hour took notes of allfacts happening in the beginning of the enter-prise. He wrote quietly, with his large squarewriting, in a business-like style.

During this time Nicholl, the calculator,looked over the minutes of their passage, andworked out figures with unparalleled dexter-ity. Michel Ardan chatted first with Bar-bicane, who did not answer him, and thenwith Nicholl, who did not hear him, with Di-ana, who understood none of his theories, andlastly with himself, questioning and answer-ing, going and coming, busy with a thousanddetails; at one time bent over the lower glass,at another roosting in the heights of the pro-jectile, and always singing. In this micro-

256 Round the Moon

cosm he represented French loquacity and ex-citability, and we beg you to believe that theywere well represented. The day, or rather(for the expression is not correct) the lapseof twelve hours, which forms a day upon theearth, closed with a plentiful supper carefullyprepared. No accident of any nature had yethappened to shake the travelers’ confidence;so, full of hope, already sure of success, theyslept peacefully, while the projectile under anuniformly decreasing speed was crossing thesky.

A LITTLEALGEBRA

The night passed without incident. The word“night,” however, is scarcely applicable.

The position of the projectile with regardto the sun did not change. Astronomically,it was daylight on the lower part, and nighton the upper; so when during this narrativethese words are used, they represent the lapseof time between rising and setting of the sunupon the earth.

The travelers’ sleep was rendered morepeaceful by the projectile’s excessive speed,for it seemed absolutely motionless. Not amotion betrayed its onward course throughspace. The rate of progress, however rapid itmight be, cannot produce any sensible effecton the human frame when it takes place ina vacuum, or when the mass of air circulateswith the body which is carried with it. Whatinhabitant of the earth perceives its speed,which, however, is at the rate of 68,000 milesper hour? Motion under such conditions is“felt” no more than repose; and when a bodyis in repose it will remain so as long as no

257

258 Round the Moon

strange force displaces it; if moving, it will notstop unless an obstacle comes in its way. Thisindifference to motion or repose is called iner-tia.

Barbicane and his companions might havebelieved themselves perfectly stationary, be-ing shut up in the projectile; indeed, the effectwould have been the same if they had beenon the outside of it. Had it not been for themoon, which was increasing above them, theymight have sworn that they were floating incomplete stagnation.

That morning, the 3rd of December, thetravelers were awakened by a joyous but un-expected noise; it was the crowing of a cockwhich sounded through the car. Michel Ar-dan, who was the first on his feet, climbed tothe top of the projectile, and shutting a box,the lid of which was partly open, said in a lowvoice, “Will you hold your tongue? That crea-ture will spoil my design!”

But Nicholl and Barbicane were awake.“A cock!” said Nicholl.“Why no, my friends,” Michel answered

quickly; “it was I who wished to awake you bythis rural sound.” So saying, he gave vent to asplendid cock-a-doodledoo, which would havedone honor to the proudest of poultry-yards.

The two Americans could not help laugh-ing.

“Fine talent that,” said Nicholl, lookingsuspiciously at his companion.

“Yes,” said Michel; “a joke in my country. Itis very Gallic; they play the cock so in the bestsociety.”


Then turning the conversation:“Barbicane, do you know what I have been

thinking of all night?”“No,” answered the president.“Of our Cambridge friends. You have al-

ready remarked that I am an ignoramus inmathematical subjects; and it is impossiblefor me to find out how the savants of the obser-vatory were able to calculate what initiatoryspeed the projectile ought to have on leavingthe Columbiad in order to attain the moon.”

“You mean to say,” replied Barbicane, “toattain that neutral point where the terrestrialand lunar attractions are equal; for, startingfrom that point, situated about nine-tenthsof the distance traveled over, the projectilewould simply fall upon the moon, on accountof its weight.”

“So be it,” said Michel; “but, oncemore; how could they calculate the initiatoryspeed?”

“Nothing can be easier,” replied Barbicane.“And you knew how to make that calcula-

tion?” asked Michel Ardan.“Perfectly. Nicholl and I would have made

it, if the observatory had not saved us thetrouble.”

“Very well, old Barbicane,” replied Michel;“they might have cut off my head, beginningat my feet, before they could have made mesolve that problem.”

“Because you do not know algebra,” an-swered Barbicane quietly.

“Ah, there you are, you eaters of x1; youthink you have said all when you have said

260 Round the Moon

‘Algebra.”’“Michel,” said Barbicane, “can you use a

forge without a hammer, or a plow without aplowshare?”

“Hardly.”“Well, algebra is a tool, like the plow or the

hammer, and a good tool to those who knowhow to use it.”

“Seriously?”“Quite seriously.”“And can you use that tool in my pres-

ence?”“If it will interest you.”“And show me how they calculated the ini-

tiatory speed of our car?”“Yes, my worthy friend; taking into consid-

eration all the elements of the problem, thedistance from the center of the earth to thecenter of the moon, of the radius of the earth,of its bulk, and of the bulk of the moon, I cantell exactly what ought to be the initiatoryspeed of the projectile, and that by a simpleformula.”

“Let us see.”“You shall see it; only I shall not give you

the real course drawn by the projectile be-tween the moon and the earth in consideringtheir motion round the sun. No, I shall con-sider these two orbs as perfectly motionless,which will answer all our purpose.”

“And why?”“Because it will be trying to solve the prob-

lem called ‘the problem of the three bodies,’for which the integral calculus is not yet farenough advanced.”


“Then,” said Michel Ardan, in his sly tone,“mathematics have not said their last word?”

“Certainly not,” replied Barbicane.“Well, perhaps the Selenites have carried

the integral calculus farther than you have;and, by the bye, what is this ‘integral calcu-lus?”’

“It is a calculation the converse of the dif-ferential,” replied Barbicane seriously.

“Much obliged; it is all very clear, nodoubt.”

“And now,” continued Barbicane, “a slip ofpaper and a bit of pencil, and before a half-hour is over I will have found the required for-mula.”

Half an hour had not elapsed before Barbi-cane, raising his head, showed Michel Ardan apage covered with algebraical signs, in whichthe general formula for the solution was con-tained.

“Well, and does Nicholl understand whatthat means?”

“Of course, Michel,” replied the captain.“All these signs, which seem cabalistic to you,form the plainest, the clearest, and the mostlogical language to those who know how toread it.”

“And you pretend, Nicholl,” asked Michel,“that by means of these hieroglyphics, moreincomprehensible than the Egyptian Ibis, youcan find what initiatory speed it was neces-sary to give the projectile?”

“Incontestably,” replied Nicholl; “and evenby this same formula I can always tell you itsspeed at any point of its transit.”

262 Round the Moon

“On your word?”“On my word.”“Then you are as cunning as our presi-

dent.”“No, Michel; the difficult part is what Bar-

bicane has done; that is, to get an equationwhich shall satisfy all the conditions of theproblem. The remainder is only a question ofarithmetic, requiring merely the knowledge ofthe four rules.”

“That is something!” replied Michel Ardan,who for his life could not do addition right,and who defined the rule as a Chinese puzzle,which allowed one to obtain all sorts of totals.

“The expression v0, which you see in thatequation, is the speed which the projectile willhave on leaving the atmosphere.”

“Just so,” said Nicholl; “it is from that pointthat we must calculate the velocity, since weknow already that the velocity at departurewas exactly one and a half times more thanon leaving the atmosphere.”

“I understand no more,” said Michel.“It is a very simple calculation,” said Bar-

bicane.“Not as simple as I am,” retorted Michel.“That means, that when our projectile

reached the limits of the terrestrial atmo-sphere it had already lost one-third of its ini-tiatory speed.”

“As much as that?”“Yes, my friend; merely by friction against

the atmospheric strata. You understand thatthe faster it goes the more resistance it meetswith from the air.”


“That I admit,” answered Michel; “and Iunderstand it, although your x’s and zero’s,and algebraic formula, are rattling in my headlike nails in a bag.”

“First effects of algebra,” replied Barbi-cane; “and now, to finish, we are going to provethe given number of these different expres-sions, that is, work out their value.”

“Finish me!” replied Michel.Barbicane took the paper, and began to

make his calculations with great rapidity.Nicholl looked over and greedily read thework as it proceeded.

“That’s it! that’s it!” at last he cried.“Is it clear?” asked Barbicane.“It is written in letters of fire,” said Nicholl.“Wonderful fellows!” muttered Ardan.“Do you understand it at last?” asked Bar-

bicane.“Do I understand it?” cried Ardan; “my

head is splitting with it.”“And now,” said Nicholl, “to find out the

speed of the projectile when it leaves the at-mosphere, we have only to calculate that.”

The captain, as a practical man equal toall difficulties, began to write with fright-ful rapidity. Divisions and multiplicationsgrew under his fingers; the figures were likehail on the white page. Barbicane watchedhim, while Michel Ardan nursed a growingheadache with both hands.

“Very well?” asked Barbicane, after someminutes’ silence.

“Well!” replied Nicholl; every calculationmade, v0, that is to say, the speed necessary

264 Round the Moon

for the projectile on leaving the atmosphere,to enable it to reach the equal point of attrac-tion, ought to be—”

“Yes?” said Barbicane.“Twelve thousand yards.”“What!” exclaimed Barbicane, starting;

“you say—”“Twelve thousand yards.”“The devil!” cried the president, making a

gesture of despair.“What is the matter?” asked Michel Ardan,

much surprised.“What is the matter! why, if at this moment

our speed had already diminished one-thirdby friction, the initiatory speed ought to havebeen—”

“Seventeen thousand yards.”“And the Cambridge Observatory declared

that twelve thousand yards was enoughat starting; and our projectile, which onlystarted with that speed—”

“Well?” asked Nicholl.“Well, it will not be enough.”“Good.”“We shall not be able to reach the neutral

point.”“The deuce!”“We shall not even get halfway.”“In the name of the projectile!” exclaimed

Michel Ardan, jumping as if it was already onthe point of striking the terrestrial globe.

“And we shall fall back upon the earth!”

THE COLD OFSPACE

This revelation came like a thunderbolt. Whocould have expected such an error in calcula-tion? Barbicane would not believe it. Nichollrevised his figures: they were exact. As tothe formula which had determined them, theycould not suspect its truth; it was evident thatan initiatory velocity of seventeen thousandyards in the first second was necessary to en-able them to reach the neutral point.

The three friends looked at each othersilently. There was no thought of break-fast. Barbicane, with clenched teeth, knittedbrows, and hands clasped convulsively, waswatching through the window. Nicholl hadcrossed his arms, and was examining his cal-culations. Michel Ardan was muttering:

“That is just like these scientific men: theynever do anything else. I would give twentypistoles if we could fall upon the CambridgeObservatory and crush it, together with thewhole lot of dabblers in figures which it con-tains.”

Suddenly a thought struck the captain,

265

266 Round the Moon

which he at once communicated to Barbicane.“Ah!” said he; “it is seven o’clock in the

morning; we have already been gone thirty-two hours; more than half our passage is over,and we are not falling that I am aware of.”

Barbicane did not answer, but after a rapidglance at the captain, took a pair of compasseswherewith to measure the angular distance ofthe terrestrial globe; then from the lower win-dow he took an exact observation, and noticedthat the projectile was apparently stationary.Then rising and wiping his forehead, on whichlarge drops of perspiration were standing, heput some figures on paper. Nicholl understoodthat the president was deducting from theterrestrial diameter the projectile’s distancefrom the earth. He watched him anxiously.

“No,” exclaimed Barbicane, after some mo-ments, “no, we are not falling! no, we arealready more than 50,000 leagues from theearth. We have passed the point at which theprojectile would have stopped if its speed hadonly been 12,000 yards at starting. We arestill going up.”

“That is evident,” replied Nicholl; “andwe must conclude that our initial speed,under the power of the 400,000 pounds ofgun-cotton, must have exceeded the required12,000 yards. Now I can understand how, af-ter thirteen minutes only, we met the secondsatellite, which gravitates round the earth atmore than 2,000 leagues’ distance.”

“And this explanation is the more proba-ble,” added Barbicane, “Because, in throwingoff the water enclosed between its partition-


breaks, the projectile found itself lightened ofa considerable weight.”

“Just so,” said Nicholl.“Ah, my brave Nicholl, we are saved!”“Very well then,” said Michel Ardan qui-

etly; “as we are safe, let us have breakfast.”Nicholl was not mistaken. The initial

speed had been, very fortunately, much abovethat estimated by the Cambridge Observa-tory; but the Cambridge Observatory had nev-ertheless made a mistake.

The travelers, recovered from this falsealarm, breakfasted merrily. If they ate a gooddeal, they talked more. Their confidence wasgreater after than before “the incident of thealgebra.”

“Why should we not succeed?” said MichelArdan; “why should we not arrive safely? Weare launched; we have no obstacle before us,no stones in the way; the road is open, more sothan that of a ship battling with the sea; moreopen than that of a balloon battling with thewind; and if a ship can reach its destination,a balloon go where it pleases, why cannot ourprojectile attain its end and aim?”

“It will attain it,” said Barbicane.“If only to do honor to the Americans,”

added Michel Ardan, “the only people whocould bring such an enterprise to a happytermination, and the only one which couldproduce a President Barbicane. Ah, now weare no longer uneasy, I begin to think, Whatwill become of us? We shall get right royallyweary.”

Barbicane and Nicholl made a gesture of

268 Round the Moon

denial.“But I have provided for the contingency,

my friends,” replied Michel; “you have only tospeak, and I have chess, draughts, cards, anddominoes at your disposal; nothing is wantingbut a billiard-table.”

“What!” exclaimed Barbicane; “youbrought away such trifles?”

“Certainly,” replied Michel, “and not onlyto distract ourselves, but also with the laud-able intention of endowing the Selenite smok-ing divans with them.”

“My friend,” said Barbicane, “if the moonis inhabited, its inhabitants must have ap-peared some thousands of years before thoseof the earth, for we cannot doubt that theirstar is much older than ours. If then theseSelenites have existed their hundreds of thou-sands of years, and if their brain is of the sameorganization of the human brain, they havealready invented all that we have invented,and even what we may invent in future ages.They have nothing to learn from us, and wehave everything to learn from them.”

“What!” said Michel; “you believe that theyhave artists like Phidias, Michael Angelo, orRaphael?”

“Yes.”“Poets like Homer, Virgil, Milton, Lamar-

tine, and Hugo?”“I am sure of it.”“Philosophers like Plato, Aristotle,

Descartes, Kant?”“I have no doubt of it.”“Scientific men like Archimedes, Euclid,


Pascal, Newton?”“I could swear it.”“Comic writers like Arnal, and photogra-

phers like—like Nadar?”“Certain.”“Then, friend Barbicane, if they are as

strong as we are, and even stronger—theseSelenites—why have they not tried to com-municate with the earth? why have they notlaunched a lunar projectile to our terrestrialregions?”

“Who told you that they have never doneso?” said Barbicane seriously.

“Indeed,” added Nicholl, “it would be easierfor them than for us, for two reasons; first, be-cause the attraction on the moon’s surface issix times less than on that of the earth, whichwould allow a projectile to rise more easily;secondly, because it would be enough to sendsuch a projectile only at 8,000 leagues insteadof 80,000, which would require the force ofprojection to be ten times less strong.”

“Then,” continued Michel, “I repeat it, whyhave they not done it?”

“And I repeat,” said Barbicane; “who toldyou that they have not done it?”

“When?”“Thousands of years before man appeared

on earth.”“And the projectile—where is the projec-

tile? I demand to see the projectile.”“My friend,” replied Barbicane, “the sea

covers five-sixths of our globe. From that wemay draw five good reasons for supposing thatthe lunar projectile, if ever launched, is now at

270 Round the Moon

the bottom of the Atlantic or the Pacific, un-less it sped into some crevasse at that periodwhen the crust of the earth was not yet hard-ened.”

“Old Barbicane,” said Michel, “you havean answer for everything, and I bow beforeyour wisdom. But there is one hypothesisthat would suit me better than all the others,which is, the Selenites, being older than we,are wiser, and have not invented gunpowder.”

At this moment Diana joined in the conver-sation by a sonorous barking. She was askingfor her breakfast.

“Ah!” said Michel Ardan, “in our discussionwe have forgotten Diana and Satellite.”

Immediately a good-sized pie was given tothe dog, which devoured it hungrily.

“Do you see, Barbicane,” said Michel, “weshould have made a second Noah’s ark of thisprojectile, and borne with us to the moon acouple of every kind of domestic animal.”

“I dare say; but room would have failed us.”“Oh!” said Michel, “we might have

squeezed a little.”“The fact is,” replied Nicholl, “that cows,

bulls, and horses, and all ruminants, wouldhave been very useful on the lunar continent,but unfortunately the car could neither havebeen made a stable nor a shed.”

“Well, we might have at least brought adonkey, only a little donkey; that courageousbeast which old Silenus loved to mount. I lovethose old donkeys; they are the least favoredanimals in creation; they are not only beatenwhile alive, but even after they are dead.”


“How do you make that out?” asked Barbi-cane.

“Why,” said Michel, “they make their skinsinto drums.”

Barbicane and Nicholl could not helplaughing at this ridiculous remark. But a cryfrom their merry companion stopped them.The latter was leaning over the spot whereSatellite lay. He rose, saying:

“My good Satellite is no longer ill.”“Ah!” said Nicholl.“No,” answered Michel, “he is dead!

There,” added he, in a piteous tone, “that isembarrassing. I much fear, my poor Diana,that you will leave no progeny in the lunar re-gions!”

Indeed the unfortunate Satellite had notsurvived its wound. It was quite dead. MichelArdan looked at his friends with a ruefulcountenance.

“One question presents itself,” said Barbi-cane. “We cannot keep the dead body of thisdog with us for the next forty-eight hours.”

“No! certainly not,” replied Nicholl; “butour scuttles are fixed on hinges; they can belet down. We will open one, and throw thebody out into space.”

The president thought for some moments,and then said:

“Yes, we must do so, but at the same timetaking very great precautions.”

“Why?” asked Michel.“For two reasons which you will under-

stand,” answered Barbicane. “The first relatesto the air shut up in the projectile, and of

272 Round the Moon

which we must lose as little as possible.”“But we manufacture the air?”“Only in part. We make only the oxygen,

my worthy Michel; and with regard to that,we must watch that the apparatus does notfurnish the oxygen in too great a quantity; foran excess would bring us very serious phys-iological troubles. But if we make the oxy-gen, we do not make the azote, that mediumwhich the lungs do not absorb, and whichought to remain intact; and that azote will es-cape rapidly through the open scuttles.”

“Oh! the time for throwing out poor Satel-lite?” said Michel.

“Agreed; but we must act quickly.”“And the second reason?” asked Michel.“The second reason is that we must not let

the outer cold, which is excessive, penetratethe projectile or we shall be frozen to death.”

“But the sun?”“The sun warms our projectile, which ab-

sorbs its rays; but it does not warm the vac-uum in which we are floating at this mo-ment. Where there is no air, there is no moreheat than diffused light; and the same withdarkness; it is cold where the sun’s rays donot strike direct. This temperature is onlythe temperature produced by the radiation ofthe stars; that is to say, what the terrestrialglobe would undergo if the sun disappearedone day.”

“Which is not to be feared,” replied Nicholl.“Who knows?” said Michel Ardan. “But, in

admitting that the sun does not go out, mightit not happen that the earth might move away


from it?”“There!” said Barbicane, “there is Michel

with his ideas.”“And,” continued Michel, “do we not know

that in 1861 the earth passed through the tailof a comet? Or let us suppose a comet whosepower of attraction is greater than that of thesun. The terrestrial orbit will bend toward thewandering star, and the earth, becoming itssatellite, will be drawn such a distance thatthe rays of the sun will have no action on itssurface.”

“That might happen, indeed,” replied Bar-bicane, “but the consequences of such a dis-placement need not be so formidable as yousuppose.”

“And why not?”“Because the heat and cold would be equal-

ized on our globe. It has been calculatedthat, had our earth been carried along in itscourse by the comet of 1861, at its perihe-lion, that is, its nearest approach to the sun,it would have undergone a heat 28,000 timesgreater than that of summer. But this heat,which is sufficient to evaporate the waters,would have formed a thick ring of cloud, whichwould have modified that excessive temper-ature; hence the compensation between thecold of the aphelion and the heat of the per-ihelion.”

“At how many degrees,” asked Nicholl, “isthe temperature of the planetary spaces esti-mated?”

“Formerly,” replied Barbicane, “it wasgreatly exaggerated; but now, after the calcu-

274 Round the Moon

lations of Fourier, of the French Academy ofScience, it is not supposed to exceed 60◦ Centi-grade below zero.”

“Pooh!” said Michel, “that’s nothing!”“It is very much,” replied Barbicane; “the

temperature which was observed in the polarregions, at Melville Island and Fort Reliance,that is 76◦ Fahrenheit below zero.”

“If I mistake not,” said Nicholl, “M. Pouil-let, another savant, estimates the tempera-ture of space at 250◦ Fahrenheit below zero.We shall, however, be able to verify these cal-culations for ourselves.”

“Not at present; because the solar rays,beating directly upon our thermometer, wouldgive, on the contrary, a very high temperature.But, when we arrive in the moon, during itsfifteen days of night at either face, we shallhave leisure to make the experiment, for oursatellite lies in a vacuum.”

“What do you mean by a vacuum?” askedMichel. “Is it perfectly such?”

“It is absolutely void of air.”“And is the air replaced by nothing what-

ever?”“By the ether only,” replied Barbicane.“And pray what is the ether?”“The ether, my friend, is an agglomera-

tion of imponderable atoms, which, relativelyto their dimensions, are as far removed fromeach other as the celestial bodies are in space.It is these atoms which, by their vibratory mo-tion, produce both light and heat in the uni-verse.”

They now proceeded to the burial of Satel-


lite. They had merely to drop him into space,in the same way that sailors drop a bodyinto the sea; but, as President Barbicanesuggested, they must act quickly, so as tolose as little as possible of that air whoseelasticity would rapidly have spread it intospace. The bolts of the right scuttle, the open-ing of which measured about twelve inchesacross, were carefully drawn, while Michel,quite grieved, prepared to launch his dog intospace. The glass, raised by a powerful lever,which enabled it to overcome the pressure ofthe inside air on the walls of the projectile,turned rapidly on its hinges, and Satellite wasthrown out. Scarcely a particle of air couldhave escaped, and the operation was so suc-cessful that later on Barbicane did not fear todispose of the rubbish which encumbered thecar.

276 Round the Moon

QUESTION ANDANSWER

On the 4th of December, when the travel-ers awoke after fifty-four hours’ journey, thechronometer marked five o’clock of the terres-trial morning. In time it was just over fivehours and forty minutes, half of that assignedto their sojourn in the projectile; but they hadalready accomplished nearly seven-tenths ofthe way. This peculiarity was due to their reg-ularly decreasing speed.

Now when they observed the earththrough the lower window, it looked like noth-ing more than a dark spot, drowned in the so-lar rays. No more crescent, no more cloudylight! The next day, at midnight, the earthwould be new, at the very moment when themoon would be full. Above, the orb of nightwas nearing the line followed by the projectile,so as to meet it at the given hour. All aroundthe black vault was studded with brilliantpoints, which seemed to move slowly; but, atthe great distance they were from them, theirrelative size did not seem to change. The sunand stars appeared exactly as they do to us

277

278 Round the Moon

upon earth. As to the moon, she was consid-erably larger; but the travelers’ glasses, notvery powerful, did not allow them as yet tomake any useful observations upon her sur-face, or reconnoiter her topographically or ge-ologically.

Thus the time passed in never-ending con-versations all about the moon. Each onebrought forward his own contingent of partic-ular facts; Barbicane and Nicholl always se-rious, Michel Ardan always enthusiastic. Theprojectile, its situation, its direction, incidentswhich might happen, the precautions necessi-tated by their fall on to the moon, were inex-haustible matters of conjecture.

As they were breakfasting, a questionof Michel’s, relating to the projectile, pro-voked rather a curious answer from Barbi-cane, which is worth repeating. Michel, sup-posing it to be roughly stopped, while stillunder its formidable initial speed, wished toknow what the consequences of the stoppagewould have been.

“But,” said Barbicane, “I do not see how itcould have been stopped.”

“But let us suppose so,” said Michel.“It is an impossible supposition,” said the

practical Barbicane; “unless that impulsiveforce had failed; but even then its speed woulddiminish by degrees, and it would not havestopped suddenly.”

“Admit that it had struck a body in space.”“What body?”“Why that enormous meteor which we

met.”


“Then,” said Nicholl, “the projectile wouldhave been broken into a thousand pieces, andwe with it.”

“More than that,” replied Barbicane; “weshould have been burned to death.”

“Burned?” exclaimed Michel, “by Jove! Iam sorry it did not happen, ‘just to see.”’

“And you would have seen,” replied Bar-bicane. “It is known now that heat is onlya modification of motion. When water iswarmed—that is to say, when heat is addedto it—its particles are set in motion.”

“Well,” said Michel, “that is an ingenioustheory!”

“And a true one, my worthy friend; for itexplains every phenomenon of caloric. Heatis but the motion of atoms, a simple oscilla-tion of the particles of a body. When they ap-ply the brake to a train, the train comes to astop; but what becomes of the motion whichit had previously possessed? It is transformedinto heat, and the brake becomes hot. Why dothey grease the axles of the wheels? To pre-vent their heating, because this heat would begenerated by the motion which is thus lost bytransformation.”

“Yes, I understand,” replied Michel, “per-fectly. For example, when I have run a longtime, when I am swimming, when I am per-spiring in large drops, why am I obliged tostop? Simply because my motion is changedinto heat.”

Barbicane could not help smiling atMichel’s reply; then, returning to his theory,said:

280 Round the Moon

“Thus, in case of a shock, it would havebeen with our projectile as with a ball whichfalls in a burning state after having struck themetal plate; it is its motion which is turnedinto heat. Consequently I affirm that, if ourprojectile had struck the meteor, its speedthus suddenly checked would have raised aheat great enough to turn it into vapor instan-taneously.”

“Then,” asked Nicholl, “what would hap-pen if the earth’s motion were to stop sud-denly?”

“Her temperature would be raised to sucha pitch,” said Barbicane, “that she would be atonce reduced to vapor.”

“Well,” said Michel, “that is a way of endingthe earth which will greatly simplify things.”

“And if the earth fell upon the sun?” askedNicholl.

“According to calculation,” replied Barbi-cane, “the fall would develop a heat equal tothat produced by 16,000 globes of coal, eachequal in bulk to our terrestrial globe.”

“Good additional heat for the sun,” repliedMichel Ardan, “of which the inhabitants ofUranus or Neptune would doubtless not com-plain; they must be perished with cold ontheir planets.”

“Thus, my friends,” said Barbicane, “allmotion suddenly stopped produces heat. Andthis theory allows us to infer that the heatof the solar disc is fed by a hail of meteorsfalling incessantly on its surface. They haveeven calculated—”

“Oh, dear!” murmured Michel, “the figures


are coming.”“They have even calculated,” continued the

imperturbable Barbicane, “that the shock ofeach meteor on the sun ought to produce aheat equal to that of 4,000 masses of coal ofan equal bulk.”

“And what is the solar heat?” asked Michel.“It is equal to that produced by the com-

bustion of a stratum of coal surrounding thesun to a depth of forty-seven miles.”

“And that heat—”“Would be able to boil two billions nine

hundred millions of cubic myriameters2 of wa-ter.”

“And it does not roast us!” exclaimedMichel.

“No,” replied Barbicane, “because the ter-restrial atmosphere absorbs four-tenths of thesolar heat; besides, the quantity of heat inter-cepted by the earth is but a billionth part ofthe entire radiation.”

“I see that all is for the best,” said Michel,“and that this atmosphere is a useful inven-tion; for it not only allows us to breathe, but itprevents us from roasting.”

“Yes!” said Nicholl, “unfortunately, it willnot be the same in the moon.”

“Bah!” said Michel, always hopeful. “Ifthere are inhabitants, they must breathe. Ifthere are no longer any, they must have leftenough oxygen for three people, if only at thebottom of ravines, where its own weight will

2The myriameter is equal to rather more than10,936 cubic yards English.

282 Round the Moon

cause it to accumulate, and we will not climbthe mountains; that is all.” And Michel, ris-ing, went to look at the lunar disc, whichshone with intolerable brilliancy.

“By Jove!” said he, “it must be hot upthere!”

“Without considering,” replied Nicholl,“that the day lasts 360 hours!”

“And to compensate that,” said Barbicane,“the nights have the same length; and as heatis restored by radiation, their temperaturecan only be that of the planetary space.”

“A pretty country, that!” exclaimed Michel.“Never mind! I wish I was there! Ah! my dearcomrades, it will be rather curious to have theearth for our moon, to see it rise on the hori-zon, to recognize the shape of its continents,and to say to oneself, ‘There is America, thereis Europe;’ then to follow it when it is about tolose itself in the sun’s rays! By the bye, Barbi-cane, have the Selenites eclipses?”

“Yes, eclipses of the sun,” replied Barbi-cane, “when the centers of the three orbs areon a line, the earth being in the middle. Butthey are only partial, during which the earth,cast like a screen upon the solar disc, allowsthe greater portion to be seen.”

“And why,” asked Nicholl, “is there no totaleclipse? Does not the cone of the shadow castby the earth extend beyond the moon?”

“Yes, if we do not take into considerationthe refraction produced by the terrestrial at-mosphere. No, if we take that refraction intoconsideration. Thus let δ be the horizontalparallel, and p the apparent semidiameter—”


“Oh!” said Michel. “Do speak plainly, youman of algebra!”

“Very well, replied Barbicane; “in popularlanguage the mean distance from the moonto the earth being sixty terrestrial radii, thelength of the cone of the shadow, on accountof refraction, is reduced to less than forty-two radii. The result is that when there areeclipses, the moon finds itself beyond the coneof pure shadow, and that the sun sends her itsrays, not only from its edges, but also from itscenter.”

“Then,” said Michel, in a merry tone, “whyare there eclipses, when there ought not to beany?”

“Simply because the solar rays are weak-ened by this refraction, and the atmospherethrough which they pass extinguished thegreater part of them!”

“That reason satisfies me,” replied Michel.“Besides we shall see when we get there. Now,tell me, Barbicane, do you believe that themoon is an old comet?”

“There’s an idea!”“Yes,” replied Michel, with an amiable

swagger, “I have a few ideas of that sort.”“But that idea does not spring from

Michel,” answered Nicholl.“Well, then, I am a plagiarist.”“No doubt about it. According to the an-

cients, the Arcadians pretend that their an-cestors inhabited the earth before the moonbecame her satellite. Starting from this fact,some scientific men have seen in the moon acomet whose orbit will one day bring it so near

284 Round the Moon

to the earth that it will be held there by its at-traction.”

“Is there any truth in this hypothesis?”asked Michel.

“None whatever,” said Barbicane, “and theproof is, that the moon has preserved no traceof the gaseous envelope which always accom-panies comets.”

“But,” continued Nicholl, “Before becomingthe earth’s satellite, could not the moon, whenin her perihelion, pass so near the sun as byevaporation to get rid of all those gaseous sub-stances?”

“It is possible, friend Nicholl, but not prob-able.”

“Why not?”“Because—Faith I do not know.”“Ah!” exclaimed Michel, “what hundred of

volumes we might make of all that we do notknow!”

“Ah! indeed. What time is it?” asked Bar-bicane.

“Three o’clock,” answered Nicholl.“How time goes,” said Michel, “in the con-

versation of scientific men such as we are!Certainly, I feel I know too much! I feel that Iam becoming a well!”

Saying which, Michel hoisted himself tothe roof of the projectile, “to observe the moonbetter,” he pretended. During this time hiscompanions were watching through the lowerglass. Nothing new to note!

When Michel Ardan came down, he wentto the side scuttle; and suddenly they heardan exclamation of surprise!


“What is it?” asked Barbicane.The president approached the window, and

saw a sort of flattened sack floating someyards from the projectile. This object seemedas motionless as the projectile, and was con-sequently animated with the same ascendingmovement.

“What is that machine?” continued MichelArdan. “Is it one of the bodies which our pro-jectile keeps within its attraction, and whichwill accompany it to the moon?”

“What astonishes me,” said Nicholl, “isthat the specific weight of the body, which iscertainly less than that of the projectile, al-lows it to keep so perfectly on a level with it.”

“Nicholl,” replied Barbicane, after a mo-ment’s reflection, “I do not know what the ob-ject it, but I do know why it maintains ourlevel.”

“And why?”“Because we are floating in space, my dear

captain, and in space bodies fall or move(which is the same thing) with equal speedwhatever be their weight or form; it is theair, which by its resistance creates these dif-ferences in weight. When you create a vac-uum in a tube, the objects you send throughit, grains of dust or grains of lead, fall withthe same rapidity. Here in space is the samecause and the same effect.”

“Just so,” said Nicholl, “and everything wethrow out of the projectile will accompany ituntil it reaches the moon.”

“Ah! fools that we are!” exclaimed Michel.“Why that expletive?” asked Barbicane.

286 Round the Moon

“Because we might have filled the projec-tile with useful objects, books, instruments,tools, etc. We could have thrown them all out,and all would have followed in our train. Buthappy thought! Why cannot we walk outsidelike the meteor? Why cannot we launch intospace through the scuttle? What enjoymentit would be to feel oneself thus suspended inether, more favored than the birds who mustuse their wings to keep themselves up!”

“Granted,” said Barbicane, “but how tobreathe?”

“Hang the air, to fail so inopportunely!”“But if it did not fail, Michel, your den-

sity being less than that of the projectile, youwould soon be left behind.”

“Then we must remain in our car?”“We must!”“Ah!” exclaimed Michel, in a load voice.“What is the matter?” asked Nicholl.“I know, I guess, what this pretended me-

teor is! It is no asteroid which is accompany-ing us! It is not a piece of a planet.”

“What is it then?” asked Barbicane.“It is our unfortunate dog! It is Diana’s

husband!”Indeed, this deformed, unrecognizable ob-

ject, reduced to nothing, was the body of Satel-lite, flattened like a bagpipe without wind,and ever mounting, mounting!

A MOMENT OFINTOXICATION

Thus a phenomenon, curious but explicable,was happening under these strange condi-tions.

Every object thrown from the projectilewould follow the same course and never stopuntil it did. There was a subject for conver-sation which the whole evening could not ex-haust.

Besides, the excitement of the three trav-elers increased as they drew near the end oftheir journey. They expected unforseen in-cidents, and new phenomena; and nothingwould have astonished them in the frameof mind they then were in. Their overex-cited imagination went faster than the pro-jectile, whose speed was evidently diminish-ing, though insensibly to themselves. But themoon grew larger to their eyes, and they fan-cied if they stretched out their hands theycould seize it.

The next day, the 5th of November, at fivein the morning, all three were on foot. Thatday was to be the last of their journey, if all

287

288 Round the Moon

calculations were true. That very night, attwelve o’clock, in eighteen hours, exactly atthe full moon, they would reach its brilliantdisc. The next midnight would see that jour-ney ended, the most extraordinary of ancientor modern times. Thus from the first of themorning, through the scuttles silvered by itsrays, they saluted the orb of night with a con-fident and joyous hurrah.

The moon was advancing majesticallyalong the starry firmament. A few more de-grees, and she would reach the exact pointwhere her meeting with the projectile was totake place.

According to his own observations, Barbi-cane reckoned that they would land on hernorthern hemisphere, where stretch immenseplains, and where mountains are rare. Afavorable circumstance if, as they thought,the lunar atmosphere was stored only in itsdepths.

“Besides,” observed Michel Ardan, “a plainis easier to disembark upon than a mountain.A Selenite, deposited in Europe on the sum-mit of Mont Blanc, or in Asia on the top ofthe Himalayas, would not be quite in the rightplace.”

“And,” added Captain Nicholl, “on a flatground, the projectile will remain motionlesswhen it has once touched; whereas on a de-clivity it would roll like an avalanche, and notbeing squirrels we should not come out safeand sound. So it is all for the best.”

Indeed, the success of the audacious at-tempt no longer appeared doubtful. But Bar-


bicane was preoccupied with one thought; butnot wishing to make his companions uneasy,he kept silence on this subject.

The direction the projectile was tak-ing toward the moon’s northern hemisphere,showed that her course had been slightly al-tered. The discharge, mathematically calcu-lated, would carry the projectile to the verycenter of the lunar disc. If it did not landthere, there must have been some deviation.What had caused it? Barbicane could neitherimagine nor determine the importance of thedeviation, for there were no points to go by.

He hoped, however, that it would have noother result than that of bringing them nearerthe upper border of the moon, a region moresuitable for landing.

Without imparting his uneasiness to hiscompanions, Barbicane contented himselfwith constantly observing the moon, in or-der to see whether the course of the pro-jectile would not be altered; for the situa-tion would have been terrible if it failed inits aim, and being carried beyond the discshould be launched into interplanetary space.At that moment, the moon, instead of ap-pearing flat like a disc, showed its convex-ity. If the sun’s rays had struck it obliquely,the shadow thrown would have brought outthe high mountains, which would have beenclearly detached. The eye might have gazedinto the crater’s gaping abysses, and followedthe capricious fissures which wound throughthe immense plains. But all relief was asyet leveled in intense brilliancy. They could

290 Round the Moon

scarcely distinguish those large spots whichgive the moon the appearance of a humanface.

“Face, indeed!” said Michel Ardan; “but Iam sorry for the amiable sister of Apollo. Avery pitted face!”

But the travelers, now so near the end,were incessantly observing this new world.They imagined themselves walking throughits unknown countries, climbing its highestpeaks, descending into its lowest depths. Hereand there they fancied they saw vast seas,scarcely kept together under so rarefied anatmosphere, and water-courses emptying themountain tributaries. Leaning over the abyss,they hoped to catch some sounds from that orbforever mute in the solitude of space. Thatlast day left them.

They took down the most trifling details. Avague uneasiness took possession of them asthey neared the end. This uneasiness wouldhave been doubled had they felt how theirspeed had decreased. It would have seemedto them quite insufficient to carry them tothe end. It was because the projectile then“weighed” almost nothing. Its weight was everdecreasing, and would be entirely annihilatedon that line where the lunar and terrestrialattractions would neutralize each other.

But in spite of his preoccupation, MichelArdan did not forget to prepare the morningrepast with his accustomed punctuality. Theyate with a good appetite. Nothing was so ex-cellent as the soup liquefied by the heat of thegas; nothing better than the preserved meat.


Some glasses of good French wine crowned therepast, causing Michel Ardan to remark thatthe lunar vines, warmed by that ardent sun,ought to distill even more generous wines;that is, if they existed. In any case, the far-seeing Frenchman had taken care not to for-get in his collection some precious cuttingsof the Medoc and Cote d’Or, upon which hefounded his hopes.

Reiset and Regnaut’s apparatus workedwith great regularity. Not an atom of carbonicacid resisted the potash; and as to the oxy-gen, Captain Nicholl said “it was of the firstquality.” The little watery vapor enclosed inthe projectile mixing with the air temperedthe dryness; and many apartments in London,Paris, or New York, and many theaters, werecertainly not in such a healthy condition.

But that it might act with regularity, theapparatus must be kept in perfect order; soeach morning Michel visited the escape regu-lators, tried the taps, and regulated the heatof the gas by the pyrometer. Everything hadgone well up to that time, and the travelers,imitating the worthy Joseph T. Maston, be-gan to acquire a degree of embonpoint whichwould have rendered them unrecognizable iftheir imprisonment had been prolonged tosome months. In a word, they behaved likechickens in a coop; they were getting fat.

In looking through the scuttle Barbicanesaw the specter of the dog, and other diversobjects which had been thrown from the pro-jectile, obstinately following them. Dianahowled lugubriously on seeing the remains of

292 Round the Moon

Satellite, which seemed as motionless as ifthey reposed on solid earth.

“Do you know, my friends,” said MichelArdan, “that if one of us had succumbed tothe shock consequent on departure, we shouldhave had a great deal of trouble to bury him?What am I saying? to etherize him, as hereether takes the place of earth. You see the ac-cusing body would have followed us into spacelike a remorse.”

“That would have been sad,” said Nicholl.“Ah!” continued Michel, “what I regret is

not being able to take a walk outside. Whatvoluptuousness to float amid this radiantether, to bathe oneself in it, to wrap oneselfin the sun’s pure rays. If Barbicane had onlythought of furnishing us with a diving appa-ratus and an air-pump, I could have venturedout and assumed fanciful attitudes of feignedmonsters on the top of the projectile.”

“Well, old Michel,” replied Barbicane, “youwould not have made a feigned monster long,for in spite of your diver’s dress, swollen bythe expansion of air within you, you wouldhave burst like a shell, or rather like a balloonwhich has risen too high. So do not regret it,and do not forget this—as long as we float inspace, all sentimental walks beyond the pro-jectile are forbidden.”

Michel Ardan allowed himself to be con-vinced to a certain extent. He admitted thatthe thing was difficult but not impossible, aword which he never uttered.

The conversation passed from this subjectto another, not failing him for an instant. It


seemed to the three friends as though, un-der present conditions, ideas shot up in theirbrains as leaves shoot at the first warmth ofspring. They felt bewildered. In the middle ofthe questions and answers which crossed eachother, Nicholl put one question which did notfind an immediate solution.

“Ah, indeed!” said he; “it is all very well togo to the moon, but how to get back again?”

His two interlocutors looked surprised.One would have thought that this possibilitynow occurred to them for the first time.

“What do you mean by that, Nicholl?”asked Barbicane gravely.

“To ask for means to leave a country,”added Michel, “When we have not yet arrivedthere, seems to me rather inopportune.”

“I do not say that, wishing to draw back,”replied Nicholl; “but I repeat my question, andI ask, ‘How shall we return?”’

“I know nothing about it,” answered Barbi-cane.

“And I,” said Michel, “if I had known howto return, I would never have started.”

“There’s an answer!” cried Nicholl.“I quite approve of Michel’s words,” said

Barbicane; “and add, that the question has noreal interest. Later, when we think it is advis-able to return, we will take counsel together.If the Columbiad is not there, the projectilewill be.”

“That is a step certainly. A ball without agun!”

“The gun,” replied Barbicane, “can be man-ufactured. The powder can be made. Nei-

294 Round the Moon

ther metals, saltpeter, nor coal can fail in thedepths of the moon, and we need only go 8,000leagues in order to fall upon the terrestrialglobe by virtue of the mere laws of weight.”

“Enough,” said Michel with animation.“Let it be no longer a question of returning:we have already entertained it too long. Asto communicating with our former earthly col-leagues, that will not be difficult.”

“And how?”“By means of meteors launched by lunar

volcanoes.”“Well thought of, Michel,” said Barbicane

in a convinced tone of voice. “Laplace has cal-culated that a force five times greater thanthat of our gun would suffice to send a meteorfrom the moon to the earth, and there is notone volcano which has not a greater power ofpropulsion than that.”

“Hurrah!” exclaimed Michel; “these mete-ors are handy postmen, and cost nothing. Andhow we shall be able to laugh at the post-officeadministration! But now I think of it—”

“What do you think of?”“A capital idea. Why did we not fasten a

thread to our projectile, and we could have ex-changed telegrams with the earth?”

“The deuce!” answered Nicholl. “Do youconsider the weight of a thread 250,000 mileslong nothing?”

“As nothing. They could have trebled theColumbiad’s charge; they could have quadru-pled or quintupled it!” exclaimed Michel, withwhom the verb took a higher intonation eachtime.


“There is but one little objection to make toyour proposition,” replied Barbicane, “whichis that, during the rotary motion of the globe,our thread would have wound itself round itlike a chain on a capstan, and that it wouldinevitably have brought us to the ground.”

“By the thirty-nine stars of the Union!”said Michel, “I have nothing but impractica-ble ideas to-day; ideas worthy of J. T. Maston.But I have a notion that, if we do not returnto earth, J. T. Maston will be able to come tous.”

“Yes, he’ll come,” replied Barbicane; “heis a worthy and a courageous comrade. Be-sides, what is easier? Is not the Columbiadstill buried in the soil of Florida? Is cottonand nitric acid wanted wherewith to manufac-ture the pyroxyle? Will not the moon pass thezenith of Florida? In eighteen years’ time willshe not occupy exactly the same place as to-day?”

“Yes,” continued Michel, “yes, Maston willcome, and with him our friends Elphinstone,Blomsberry, all the members of the Gun Club,and they will be well received. And by and bythey will run trains of projectiles between theearth and the moon! Hurrah for J. T. Maston!”

It is probable that, if the Hon. J. T. Mastondid not hear the hurrahs uttered in his honor,his ears at least tingled. What was he doingthen? Doubtless, posted in the Rocky Moun-tains, at the station of Long’s Peak, he wastrying to find the invisible projectile gravitat-ing in space. If he was thinking of his dearcompanions, we must allow that they were not

296 Round the Moon

far behind him; and that, under the influenceof a strange excitement, they were devoting tohim their best thoughts.

But whence this excitement, which was ev-idently growing upon the tenants of the pro-jectile? Their sobriety could not be doubted.This strange irritation of the brain, must itbe attributed to the peculiar circumstancesunder which they found themselves, to theirproximity to the orb of night, from which onlya few hours separated them, to some secret in-fluence of the moon acting upon their nervoussystem? Their faces were as rosy as if theyhad been exposed to the roaring flames of anoven; their voices resounded in loud accents;their words escaped like a champagne corkdriven out by carbonic acid; their gestures be-came annoying, they wanted so much room toperform them; and, strange to say, they noneof them noticed this great tension of the mind.

“Now,” said Nicholl, in a short tone, “nowthat I do not know whether we shall ever re-turn from the moon, I want to know what weare going to do there?”

“What we are going to do there?” repliedBarbicane, stamping with his foot as if he wasin a fencing saloon; “I do not know.”

“You do not know!” exclaimed Michel, witha bellow which provoked a sonorous echo inthe projectile.

“No, I have not even thought about it,” re-torted Barbicane, in the same loud tone.

“Well, I know,” replied Michel.“Speak, then,” cried Nicholl, who could no

longer contain the growling of his voice.


“I shall speak if it suits me,” exclaimedMichel, seizing his companions’ arms with vi-olence.

“It must suit you,” said Barbicane, with aneye on fire and a threatening hand. “It wasyou who drew us into this frightful journey,and we want to know what for.”

“Yes,” said the captain, “now that I do notknow where I am going, I want to know why Iam going.”

“Why?” exclaimed Michel, jumping a yardhigh, “why? To take possession of the moonin the name of the United States; to add afortieth State to the Union; to colonize the lu-nar regions; to cultivate them, to people them,to transport thither all the prodigies of art, ofscience, and industry; to civilize the Selenites,unless they are more civilized than we are;and to constitute them a republic, if they arenot already one!”

“And if there are no Selenites?” retortedNicholl, who, under the influence of this un-accountable intoxication, was very contradic-tory.

“Who said that there were no Selenites?”exclaimed Michel in a threatening tone.

“I do,” howled Nicholl.“Captain,” said Michel, “do not repeat that

insolence, or I will knock your teeth down yourthroat!”

The two adversaries were going to fallupon each other, and the incoherent discus-sion threatened to merge into a fight, whenBarbicane intervened with one bound.

“Stop, miserable men,” said he, separating

298 Round the Moon

his two companions; “if there are no Selenites,we will do without them.”

“Yes,” exclaimed Michel, who was not par-ticular; “yes, we will do without them. Wehave only to make Selenites. Down with theSelenites!”

“The empire of the moon belongs to us,”said Nicholl.

“Let us three constitute the republic.”“I will be the congress,” cried Michel.“And I the senate,” retorted Nicholl.“And Barbicane, the president,” howled

Michel.“Not a president elected by the nation,”

replied Barbicane.“Very well, a president elected by the

congress,” cried Michel; “and as I am thecongress, you are unanimously elected!”

“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! for PresidentBarbicane,” exclaimed Nicholl.

“Hip! hip! hip!” vociferated Michel Ardan.Then the president and the senate struck

up in a tremendous voice the popular song“Yankee Doodle,” while from the congress re-sounded the masculine tones of the “Marseil-laise.”

Then they struck up a frantic dance, withmaniacal gestures, idiotic stampings, andsomersaults like those of the boneless clownsin the circus. Diana, joining in the dance,and howling in her turn, jumped to the topof the projectile. An unaccountable flappingof wings was then heard amid most fantasticcock-crows, while five or six hens fluttered likebats against the walls.


Then the three traveling companions,acted upon by some unaccountable influenceabove that of intoxication, inflamed by the airwhich had set their respiratory apparatus onfire, fell motionless to the bottom of the pro-jectile.

300 Round the Moon

ATSEVENTY-EIGHTTHOUSAND FIVEHUNDRED ANDFOURTEENLEAGUES

What had happened? Whence the cause ofthis singular intoxication, the consequencesof which might have been very disastrous? Asimple blunder of Michel’s, which, fortunately,Nicholl was able to correct in time.

After a perfect swoon, which lasted someminutes, the captain, recovering first, sooncollected his scattered senses. Although hehad breakfasted only two hours before, he felta gnawing hunger, as if he had not eaten any-thing for several days. Everything about him,stomach and brain, were overexcited to thehighest degree. He got up and demanded fromMichel a supplementary repast. Michel, ut-terly done up, did not answer.

301

302 Round the Moon

Nicholl then tried to prepare some tea des-tined to help the absorption of a dozen sand-wiches. He first tried to get some fire, andstruck a match sharply. What was his sur-prise to see the sulphur shine with so extraor-dinary a brilliancy as to be almost unbearableto the eye. From the gas-burner which he litrose a flame equal to a jet of electric light.

A revelation dawned on Nicholl’s mind.That intensity of light, the physiological trou-bles which had arisen in him, the overex-citement of all his moral and quarrelsomefaculties—he understood all.

“The oxygen!” he exclaimed.And leaning over the air apparatus, he saw

that the tap was allowing the colorless gas toescape freely, life-giving, but in its pure stateproducing the gravest disorders in the system.Michel had blunderingly opened the tap of theapparatus to the full.

Nicholl hastened to stop the escape of oxy-gen with which the atmosphere was satu-rated, which would have been the death of thetravelers, not by suffocation, but by combus-tion. An hour later, the air less charged withit restored the lungs to their normal condi-tion. By degrees the three friends recoveredfrom their intoxication; but they were obligedto sleep themselves sober over their oxygen asa drunkard does over his wine.

When Michel learned his share of the re-sponsibility of this incident, he was not muchdisconcerted. This unexpected drunkennessbroke the monotony of the journey. Many fool-ish things had been said while under its influ-

At 78,514 Leagues 303

ence, but also quickly forgotten.“And then,” added the merry Frenchman,

“I am not sorry to have tasted a little of thisheady gas. Do you know, my friends, that acurious establishment might be founded withrooms of oxygen, where people whose systemis weakened could for a few hours live a moreactive life. Fancy parties where the roomwas saturated with this heroic fluid, theaterswhere it should be kept at high pressure; whatpassion in the souls of the actors and spec-tators! what fire, what enthusiasm! And if,instead of an assembly only a whole peoplecould be saturated, what activity in its func-tions, what a supplement to life it would de-rive. From an exhausted nation they mightmake a great and strong one, and I know morethan one state in old Europe which ought toput itself under the regime of oxygen for thesake of its health!”

Michel spoke with so much animation thatone might have fancied that the tap was stilltoo open. But a few words from Barbicanesoon shattered his enthusiasm.

“That is all very well, friend Michel,” saidhe, “but will you inform us where these chick-ens came from which have mixed themselvesup in our concert?”

“Those chickens?”“Yes.”Indeed, half a dozen chickens and a fine

cock were walking about, flapping their wingsand chattering.

“Ah, the awkward things!” exclaimedMichel. “The oxygen has made them revolt.”

304 Round the Moon

“But what do you want to do with thesechickens?” asked Barbicane.

“To acclimatize them in the moon, byJove!”

“Then why did you hide them?”“A joke, my worthy president, a simple

joke, which has proved a miserable failure.I wanted to set them free on the lunar con-tinent, without saying anything. Oh, whatwould have been your amazement on seeingthese earthly-winged animals pecking in yourlunar fields!”

“You rascal, you unmitigated rascal,”replied Barbicane, “you do not want oxygen tomount to the head. You are always what wewere under the influence of the gas; you arealways foolish!”

“Ah, who says that we were not wise then?”replied Michel Ardan.

After this philosophical reflection, thethree friends set about restoring the order ofthe projectile. Chickens and cock were rein-stated in their coop. But while proceedingwith this operation, Barbicane and his twocompanions had a most desired perception ofa new phenomenon. From the moment ofleaving the earth, their own weight, that ofthe projectile, and the objects it enclosed, hadbeen subject to an increasing diminution. Ifthey could not prove this loss of the projec-tile, a moment would arrive when it would besensibly felt upon themselves and the utensilsand instruments they used.

It is needless to say that a scale wouldnot show this loss; for the weight destined to


weight the object would have lost exactly asmuch as the object itself; but a spring steel-yard for example, the tension of which was in-dependent of the attraction, would have givena just estimate of this loss.

We know that the attraction, otherwisecalled the weight, is in proportion to the densi-ties of the bodies, and inversely as the squaresof the distances. Hence this effect: If the earthhad been alone in space, if the other celes-tial bodies had been suddenly annihilated, theprojectile, according to Newton’s laws, wouldweigh less as it got farther from the earth,but without ever losing its weight entirely, forthe terrestrial attraction would always havemade itself felt, at whatever distance.

But, in reality, a time must come whenthe projectile would no longer be subject tothe law of weight, after allowing for the othercelestial bodies whose effect could not be setdown as zero. Indeed, the projectile’s coursewas being traced between the earth and themoon. As it distanced the earth, the terres-trial attraction diminished: but the lunar at-traction rose in proportion. There must comea point where these two attractions wouldneutralize each other: the projectile wouldpossess weight no longer. If the moon’s andthe earth’s densities had been equal, thispoint would have been at an equal distancebetween the two orbs. But taking the differ-ent densities into consideration, it was easyto reckon that this point would be situated at47/60ths of the whole journey, i.e., at 78,514leagues from the earth. At this point, a body

306 Round the Moon

having no principle of speed or displacementin itself, would remain immovable forever, be-ing attracted equally by both orbs, and not be-ing drawn more toward one than toward theother.

Now if the projectile’s impulsive force hadbeen correctly calculated, it would attain thispoint without speed, having lost all trace ofweight, as well as all the objects within it.What would happen then? Three hypothesespresented themselves.

1. Either it would retain a certain amountof motion, and pass the point of equalattraction, and fall upon the moon byvirtue of the excess of the lunar attrac-tion over the terrestrial.

2. Or, its speed failing, and unable to reachthe point of equal attraction, it would fallupon the earth by virtue of the excess ofthe terrestrial attraction over the lunar.

3. Or, lastly, animated with sufficient speedto enable it to reach the neutral point,but not sufficient to pass it, it wouldremain forever suspended in that spotlike the pretended tomb of Mahomet, be-tween the zenith and the nadir.

Such was their situation; and Barbicaneclearly explained the consequences to histraveling companions, which greatly inter-ested them. But how should they know whenthe projectile had reached this neutral point


situated at that distance, especially when nei-ther themselves, nor the objects enclosed inthe projectile, would be any longer subject tothe laws of weight?

Up to this time, the travelers, while admit-ting that this action was constantly decreas-ing, had not yet become sensible to its totalabsence.

But that day, about eleven o’clock in themorning, Nicholl having accidentally let aglass slip from his hand, the glass, instead offalling, remained suspended in the air.

“Ah!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “that israther an amusing piece of natural philoso-phy.”

And immediately divers other objects,firearms and bottles, abandoned to them-selves, held themselves up as by enchant-ment. Diana too, placed in space by Michel,reproduced, but without any trick, the won-derful suspension practiced by Caston andRobert Houdin. Indeed the dog did not seemto know that she was floating in air.

The three adventurous companions weresurprised and stupefied, despite their scien-tific reasonings. They felt themselves beingcarried into the domain of wonders! they feltthat weight was really wanting to their bod-ies. If they stretched out their arms, they didnot attempt to fall. Their heads shook on theirshoulders. Their feet no longer clung to thefloor of the projectile. They were like drunkenmen having no stability in themselves.

Fancy has depicted men without reflection,others without shadow. But here reality, by

308 Round the Moon

the neutralizations of attractive forces, pro-duced men in whom nothing had any weight,and who weighed nothing themselves.

Suddenly Michel, taking a spring, left thefloor and remained suspended in the air, likeMurillo’s monk of the Cusine des Anges.

The two friends joined him instantly, andall three formed a miraculous “Ascension” inthe center of the projectile.

“Is it to be believed? is it probable? is itpossible?” exclaimed Michel; “and yet it is so.Ah! if Raphael had seen us thus, what an ‘As-sumption’ he would have thrown upon can-vas!”

“The ‘Assumption’ cannot last,” repliedBarbicane. “If the projectile passes the neu-tral point, the lunar attraction will draw us tothe moon.”

“Then our feet will be upon the roof,”replied Michel.

“No,” said Barbicane, “because the projec-tile’s center of gravity is very low; it will onlyturn by degrees.”

“Then all our portables will be upset fromtop to bottom, that is a fact.”

“Calm yourself, Michel,” replied Nicholl;“no upset is to be feared; not a thing will move,for the projectile’s evolution will be impercep-tible.”

“Just so,” continued Barbicane; “and whenit has passed the point of equal attraction, itsbase, being the heavier, will draw it perpen-dicularly to the moon; but, in order that thisphenomenon should take place, we must havepassed the neutral line.”


“Pass the neutral line,” cried Michel; “thenlet us do as the sailors do when they cross theequator.”

A slight side movement brought Michelback toward the padded side; thence he tooka bottle and glasses, placed them “in space”before his companions, and, drinking merrily,they saluted the line with a triple hurrah. Theinfluence of these attractions scarcely lastedan hour; the travelers felt themselves insen-sibly drawn toward the floor, and Barbicanefancied that the conical end of the projectilewas varying a little from its normal directiontoward the moon. By an inverse motion thebase was approaching first; the lunar attrac-tion was prevailing over the terrestrial; thefall toward the moon was beginning, almostimperceptibly as yet, but by degrees the at-tractive force would become stronger, the fallwould be more decided, the projectile, drawnby its base, would turn its cone to the earth,and fall with ever-increasing speed on to thesurface of the Selenite continent; their desti-nation would then be attained. Now nothingcould prevent the success of their enterprise,and Nicholl and Michel Ardan shared Barbi-cane’s joy.

Then they chatted of all the phenomenawhich had astonished them one after theother, particularly the neutralization of thelaws of weight. Michel Ardan, always enthusi-astic, drew conclusions which were purely fan-ciful.

“Ah, my worthy friends,” he exclaimed,“what progress we should make if on earth we

310 Round the Moon

could throw off some of that weight, some ofthat chain which binds us to her; it would bethe prisoner set at liberty; no more fatigue ofeither arms or legs. Or, if it is true that inorder to fly on the earth’s surface, to keep one-self suspended in the air merely by the play ofthe muscles, there requires a strength a hun-dred and fifty times greater than that whichwe possess, a simple act of volition, a caprice,would bear us into space, if attraction did notexist.”

“Just so,” said Nicholl, smiling; “if we couldsucceed in suppressing weight as they sup-press pain by anaesthesia, that would changethe face of modern society!”

“Yes,” cried Michel, full of his subject, “de-stroy weight, and no more burdens!”

“Well said,” replied Barbicane; “but if noth-ing had any weight, nothing would keep in itsplace, not even your hat on your head, worthyMichel; nor your house, whose stones only ad-here by weight; nor a boat, whose stability onthe waves is only caused by weight; not eventhe ocean, whose waves would no longer beequalized by terrestrial attraction; and lastly,not even the atmosphere, whose atoms, beingno longer held in their places, would dispersein space!”

“That is tiresome,” retorted Michel; “noth-ing like these matter-of-fact people for bring-ing one back to the bare reality.”

“But console yourself, Michel,” continuedBarbicane, “for if no orb exists from whence alllaws of weight are banished, you are at leastgoing to visit one where it is much less than


on the earth.”“The moon?”“Yes, the moon, on whose surface objects

weigh six times less than on the earth, a phe-nomenon easy to prove.”

“And we shall feel it?” asked Michel.“Evidently, as two hundred pounds will

only weigh thirty pounds on the surface of themoon.”

“And our muscular strength will not dimin-ish?”

“Not at all; instead of jumping one yardhigh, you will rise eighteen feet high.”

“But we shall be regular Herculeses in themoon!” exclaimed Michel.

“Yes,” replied Nicholl; “for if the height ofthe Selenites is in proportion to the density oftheir globe, they will be scarcely a foot high.”

“Lilliputians!” ejaculated Michel; “I shallplay the part of Gulliver. We are going to re-alize the fable of the giants. This is the ad-vantage of leaving one’s own planet and over-running the solar world.”

“One moment, Michel,” answered Barbi-cane; “if you wish to play the part of Gulliver,only visit the inferior planets, such as Mer-cury, Venus, or Mars, whose density is a littleless than that of the earth; but do not ven-ture into the great planets, Jupiter, Saturn,Uranus, Neptune; for there the order will bechanged, and you will become Lilliputian.”

“And in the sun?”“In the sun, if its density is thirteen hun-

dred and twenty-four thousand times greater,and the attraction is twenty-seven times

312 Round the Moon

greater than on the surface of our globe, keep-ing everything in proportion, the inhabitantsought to be at least two hundred feet high.”

“By Jove!” exclaimed Michel; “I should benothing more than a pigmy, a shrimp!”

“Gulliver with the giants,” said Nicholl.“Just so,” replied Barbicane.“And it would not be quite useless to carry

some pieces of artillery to defend oneself.”“Good,” replied Nicholl; “your projectiles

would have no effect on the sun; they wouldfall back upon the earth after some minutes.”

“That is a strong remark.”“It is certain,” replied Barbicane; “the at-

traction is so great on this enormous orb, thatan object weighing 70,000 pounds on the sunwould weigh but 1,920 pounds on the sur-face of the earth. If you were to fall uponit you would weigh—let me see—about 5,000pounds, a weight which you would never beable to raise again.”

“The devil!” said Michel; “one would wanta portable crane. However, we will be satisfiedwith the moon for the present; there at leastwe shall cut a great figure. We will see aboutthe sun by and by.”

THECONSEQUENCESOF A DEVIATION

Barbicane had now no fear of the issue of thejourney, at least as far as the projectile’s im-pulsive force was concerned; its own speedwould carry it beyond the neutral line; itwould certainly not return to earth; it wouldcertainly not remain motionless on the line ofattraction. One single hypothesis remained tobe realized, the arrival of the projectile at itsdestination by the action of the lunar attrac-tion.

It was in reality a fall of 8,296 leagues onan orb, it is true, where weight could only bereckoned at one sixth of terrestrial weight; aformidable fall, nevertheless, and one againstwhich every precaution must be taken with-out delay.

These precautions were of two sorts, someto deaden the shock when the projectileshould touch the lunar soil, others to delay thefall, and consequently make it less violent.

To deaden the shock, it was a pity that

313

314 Round the Moon

Barbicane was no longer able to employ themeans which had so ably weakened the shockat departure, that is to say, by water used assprings and the partition breaks.

The partitions still existed, but waterfailed, for they could not use their reserve,which was precious, in case during the firstdays the liquid element should be found want-ing on lunar soil.

And indeed this reserve would have beenquite insufficient for a spring. The layer of wa-ter stored in the projectile at the time of start-ing upon their journey occupied no less thanthree feet in depth, and spread over a surfaceof not less than fifty-four square feet. Besides,the cistern did not contain one-fifth part ofit; they must therefore give up this efficientmeans of deadening the shock of arrival. Hap-pily, Barbicane, not content with employingwater, had furnished the movable disc withstrong spring plugs, destined to lessen theshock against the base after the breaking ofthe horizontal partitions. These plugs still ex-isted; they had only to readjust them and re-place the movable disc; every piece, easy tohandle, as their weight was now scarcely felt,was quickly mounted.

The different pieces were fitted withouttrouble, it being only a matter of bolts andscrews; tools were not wanting, and soon thereinstated disc lay on steel plugs, like a tableon its legs. One inconvenience resulted fromthe replacing of the disc, the lower windowwas blocked up; thus it was impossible for thetravelers to observe the moon from that open-


ing while they were being precipitated per-pendicularly upon her; but they were obligedto give it up; even by the side openings theycould still see vast lunar regions, as an aero-naut sees the earth from his car.

This replacing of the disc was at least anhour’s work. It was past twelve when allpreparations were finished. Barbicane tookfresh observations on the inclination of theprojectile, but to his annoyance it had notturned over sufficiently for its fall; it seemedto take a curve parallel to the lunar disc. Theorb of night shone splendidly into space, whileopposite, the orb of day blazed with fire.

Their situation began to make them un-easy.

“Are we reaching our destination?” saidNicholl.

“Let us act as if we were about reaching it,”replied Barbicane.

“You are sceptical,” retorted Michel Ardan.“We shall arrive, and that, too, quicker thanwe like.”

This answer brought Barbicane back to hispreparations, and he occupied himself withplacing the contrivances intended to breaktheir descent. We may remember the scene ofthe meeting held at Tampa Town, in Florida,when Captain Nicholl came forward as Bar-bicane’s enemy and Michel Ardan’s adversary.To Captain Nicholl’s maintaining that the pro-jectile would smash like glass, Michel repliedthat he would break their fall by means ofrockets properly placed.

Thus, powerful fireworks, taking their

316 Round the Moon

starting-point from the base and bursting out-side, could, by producing a recoil, check to acertain degree the projectile’s speed. Theserockets were to burn in space, it is true; butoxygen would not fail them, for they couldsupply themselves with it, like the lunarvolcanoes, the burning of which has neveryet been stopped by the want of atmosphereround the moon.

Barbicane had accordingly supplied him-self with these fireworks, enclosed in littlesteel guns, which could be screwed on to thebase of the projectile. Inside, these guns wereflush with the bottom; outside, they protrudedabout eighteen inches. There were twenty ofthem. An opening left in the disc allowedthem to light the match with which each wasprovided. All the effect was felt outside. Theburning mixture had already been rammedinto each gun. They had, then, nothing todo but raise the metallic buffers fixed in thebase, and replace them by the guns, which fit-ted closely in their places.

This new work was finished about threeo’clock, and after taking all these precautionsthere remained but to wait. But the projectilewas perceptibly nearing the moon, and evi-dently succumbed to her influence to a certaindegree; though its own velocity also drew it inan oblique direction. From these conflictinginfluences resulted a line which might becomea tangent. But it was certain that the projec-tile would not fall directly on the moon; for itslower part, by reason of its weight, ought to beturned toward her.


Barbicane’s uneasiness increased as hesaw his projectile resist the influence of grav-itation. The Unknown was opening beforehim, the Unknown in interplanetary space.The man of science thought he had foreseenthe only three hypotheses possible—the re-turn to the earth, the return to the moon,or stagnation on the neutral line; and herea fourth hypothesis, big with all the terrorsof the Infinite, surged up inopportunely. Toface it without flinching, one must be a reso-lute savant like Barbicane, a phlegmatic be-ing like Nicholl, or an audacious adventurerlike Michel Ardan.

Conversation was started upon this sub-ject. Other men would have considered thequestion from a practical point of view; theywould have asked themselves whither theirprojectile carriage was carrying them. Not sowith these; they sought for the cause whichproduced this effect.

“So we have become diverted from ourroute,” said Michel; “but why?”

“I very much fear,” answered Nicholl,“that, in spite of all precautions taken, theColumbiad was not fairly pointed. An error,however small, would be enough to throw usout of the moon’s attraction.”

“Then they must have aimed badly?” askedMichel.

“I do not think so,” replied Barbicane. “Theperpendicularity of the gun was exact, its di-rection to the zenith of the spot incontestible;and the moon passing to the zenith of the spot,we ought to reach it at the full. There is an-

318 Round the Moon

other reason, but it escapes me.”“Are we not arriving too late?” asked

Nicholl.“Too late?” said Barbicane.“Yes,” continued Nicholl. “The Cambridge

Observatory’s note says that the transit oughtto be accomplished in ninety-seven hoursthirteen minutes and twenty seconds; whichmeans to say, that sooner the moon will not beat the point indicated, and later it will havepassed it.”

“True,” replied Barbicane. “But we startedthe 1st of December, at thirteen minutes andtwenty-five seconds to eleven at night; and weought to arrive on the 5th at midnight, at theexact moment when the moon would be full;and we are now at the 5th of December. It isnow half-past three in the evening; half-pasteight ought to see us at the end of our journey.Why do we not arrive?”

“Might it not be an excess of speed?” an-swered Nicholl; “for we know now that its ini-tial velocity was greater than they supposed.”

“No! a hundred times, no!” replied Barbi-cane. “An excess of speed, if the direction ofthe projectile had been right, would not haveprevented us reaching the moon. No, therehas been a deviation. We have been turnedout of our course.”

“By whom? by what?” asked Nicholl.“I cannot say,” replied Barbicane.“Very well, then, Barbicane,” said Michel,

“do you wish to know my opinion on the sub-ject of finding out this deviation?”

“Speak.”


“I would not give half a dollar to know it.That we have deviated is a fact. Where we aregoing matters little; we shall soon see. Sincewe are being borne along in space we shallend by falling into some center of attractionor other.”

Michel Ardan’s indifference did not con-tent Barbicane. Not that he was uneasy aboutthe future, but he wanted to know at any costwhy his projectile had deviated.

But the projectile continued its coursesideways to the moon, and with it the massof things thrown out. Barbicane could evenprove, by the elevations which served as land-marks upon the moon, which was only twothousand leagues distant, that its speed wasbecoming uniform—fresh proof that there wasno fall. Its impulsive force still prevailedover the lunar attraction, but the projectile’scourse was certainly bringing it nearer to themoon, and they might hope that at a nearerpoint the weight, predominating, would causea decided fall.

The three friends, having nothing betterto do, continued their observations; but theycould not yet determine the topographical po-sition of the satellite; every relief was leveledunder the reflection of the solar rays.

They watched thus through the side win-dows until eight o’clock at night. The moonhad grown so large in their eyes that it filledhalf of the firmament. The sun on one side,and the orb of night on the other, flooded theprojectile with light.

At that moment Barbicane thought he

320 Round the Moon

could estimate the distance which separatedthem from their aim at no more than 700leagues. The speed of the projectile seemedto him to be more than 200 yards, or about170 leagues a second. Under the centripetalforce, the base of the projectile tended towardthe moon; but the centrifugal still prevailed;and it was probable that its rectilineal coursewould be changed to a curve of some sort, thenature of which they could not at present de-termine.

Barbicane was still seeking the solution ofhis insoluble problem. Hours passed withoutany result. The projectile was evidently near-ing the moon, but it was also evident that itwould never reach her. As to the nearest dis-tance at which it would pass her, that must bethe result of two forces, attraction and repul-sion, affecting its motion.

“I ask but one thing,” said Michel; “thatwe may pass near enough to penetrate her se-crets.”

“Cursed be the thing that has caused ourprojectile to deviate from its course,” criedNicholl.

And, as if a light had suddenly broken inupon his mind, Barbicane answered, “Thencursed be the meteor which crossed our path.”

“What?” said Michel Ardan.“What do you mean?” exclaimed Nicholl.“I mean,” said Barbicane in a decided tone,

“I mean that our deviation is owing solely toour meeting with this erring body.”

“But it did not even brush us as it passed,”said Michel.


“What does that matter? Its mass, com-pared to that of our projectile, was enormous,and its attraction was enough to influence ourcourse.”

“So little?” cried Nicholl.“Yes, Nicholl; but however little it might

be,” replied Barbicane, “in a distance of 84,000leagues, it wanted no more to make us missthe moon.”

322 Round the Moon

THE OBSERVERSOF THE MOON

Barbicane had evidently hit upon the onlyplausible reason of this deviation. Howeverslight it might have been, it had sufficed tomodify the course of the projectile. It was afatality. The bold attempt had miscarried bya fortuitous circumstance; and unless by someexceptional event, they could now never reachthe moon’s disc.

Would they pass near enough to be ableto solve certain physical and geological ques-tions until then insoluble? This was the ques-tion, and the only one, which occupied theminds of these bold travelers. As to the fate instore for themselves, they did not even dreamof it.

But what would become of them amidthese infinite solitudes, these who would soonwant air? A few more days, and they wouldfall stifled in this wandering projectile. Butsome days to these intrepid fellows was a cen-tury; and they devoted all their time to ob-serve that moon which they no longer hopedto reach.

323

324 Round the Moon

The distance which had then separated theprojectile from the satellite was estimated atabout two hundred leagues. Under these con-ditions, as regards the visibility of the detailsof the disc, the travelers were farther from themoon than are the inhabitants of earth withtheir powerful telescopes.

Indeed, we know that the instrumentmounted by Lord Rosse at Parsonstown,which magnifies 6,500 times, brings the moonto within an apparent distance of sixteenleagues. And more than that, with the power-ful one set up at Long’s Peak, the orb of night,magnified 48,000 times, is brought to withinless than two leagues, and objects having a di-ameter of thirty feet are seen very distinctly.So that, at this distance, the topographical de-tails of the moon, observed without glasses,could not be determined with precision. Theeye caught the vast outline of those immensedepressions inappropriately called “seas,” butthey could not recognize their nature. Theprominence of the mountains disappeared un-der the splendid irradiation produced by thereflection of the solar rays. The eye, dazzled asif it was leaning over a bath of molten silver,turned from it involuntarily; but the oblongform of the orb was quite clear. It appearedlike a gigantic egg, with the small end turnedtoward the earth. Indeed the moon, liquidand pliable in the first days of its formation,was originally a perfect sphere; but being soondrawn within the attraction of the earth, it be-came elongated under the influence of gravi-tation. In becoming a satellite, she lost her


native purity of form; her center of gravitywas in advance of the center of her figure; andfrom this fact some savants draw the conclu-sion that the air and water had taken refugeon the opposite surface of the moon, which isnever seen from the earth. This alteration inthe primitive form of the satellite was onlyperceptible for a few moments. The distanceof the projectile from the moon diminishedvery rapidly under its speed, though that wasmuch less than its initial velocity—but eightor nine times greater than that which propelsour express trains. The oblique course of theprojectile, from its very obliquity, gave MichelArdan some hopes of striking the lunar disc atsome point or other. He could not think thatthey would never reach it. No! he could notbelieve it; and this opinion he often repeated.But Barbicane, who was a better judge, al-ways answered him with merciless logic.

“No, Michel, no! We can only reach themoon by a fall, and we are not falling. Thecentripetal force keeps us under the moon’sinfluence, but the centrifugal force draws usirresistibly away from it.”

This was said in a tone which quenchedMichel Ardan’s last hope.

The portion of the moon which the pro-jectile was nearing was the northern hemi-sphere, that which the selenographic mapsplace below; for these maps are generallydrawn after the outline given by the glasses,and we know that they reverse the objects.Such was the Mappa Selenographica of Boeerand Moedler which Barbicane consulted. This

326 Round the Moon

northern hemisphere presented vast plains,dotted with isolated mountains.

At midnight the moon was full. At thatprecise moment the travelers should havealighted upon it, if the mischievous meteorhad not diverted their course. The orb was ex-actly in the condition determined by the Cam-bridge Observatory. It was mathematically atits perigee, and at the zenith of the twenty-eighth parallel. An observer placed at thebottom of the enormous Columbiad, pointedperpendicularly to the horizon, would haveframed the moon in the mouth of the gun. Astraight line drawn through the axis of thepiece would have passed through the centerof the orb of night. It is needless to say, thatduring the night of the 5th-6th of December,the travelers took not an instant’s rest. Couldthey close their eyes when so near this newworld? No! All their feelings were concen-trated in one single thought:—See! Repre-sentatives of the earth, of humanity, past andpresent, all centered in them! It is throughtheir eyes that the human race look at theselunar regions, and penetrate the secrets oftheir satellite! A strange emotion filled theirhearts as they went from one window to theother. Their observations, reproduced by Bar-bicane, were rigidly determined. To takethem, they had glasses; to correct them, maps.

As regards the optical instruments at theirdisposal, they had excellent marine glassesspecially constructed for this journey. Theypossessed magnifying powers of 100. Theywould thus have brought the moon to within a


distance (apparent) of less than 2,000 leaguesfrom the earth. But then, at a distance whichfor three hours in the morning did not exceedsixty-five miles, and in a medium free from allatmospheric disturbances, these instrumentscould reduce the lunar surface to within lessthan 1,500 yards!

328 Round the Moon

FANCY ANDREALITY

“Have you ever seen the moon?” asked a pro-fessor, ironically, of one of his pupils.

“No, sir!” replied the pupil, still more iron-ically, “but I must say I have heard it spokenof.”

In one sense, the pupil’s witty answermight be given by a large majority of sublu-nary beings. How many people have heardspeak of the moon who have never seen it—atleast through a glass or a telescope! Howmany have never examined the map of theirsatellite!

In looking at a selenographic map, onepeculiarity strikes us. Contrary to the ar-rangement followed for that of the Earth andMars, the continents occupy more particu-larly the southern hemisphere of the lunarglobe. These continents do not show such de-cided, clear, and regular boundary lines asSouth America, Africa, and the Indian penin-sula. Their angular, capricious, and deeply in-dented coasts are rich in gulfs and peninsu-las. They remind one of the confusion in the

329

330 Round the Moon

islands of the Sound, where the land is exces-sively indented. If navigation ever existed onthe surface of the moon, it must have beenwonderfully difficult and dangerous; and wemay well pity the Selenite sailors and hydro-graphers; the former, when they came uponthese perilous coasts, the latter when theytook the soundings of its stormy banks.

We may also notice that, on the lunarsphere, the south pole is much more continen-tal than the north pole. On the latter, thereis but one slight strip of land separated fromother continents by vast seas. Toward thesouth, continents clothe almost the whole ofthe hemisphere. It is even possible that theSelenites have already planted the flag on oneof their poles, while Franklin, Ross, Kane, Du-mont, d’Urville, and Lambert have never yetbeen able to attain that unknown point of theterrestrial globe.

As to islands, they are numerous on thesurface of the moon. Nearly all oblong orcircular, and as if traced with the compass,they seem to form one vast archipelago, equalto that charming group lying between Greeceand Asia Minor, and which mythology in an-cient times adorned with most graceful leg-ends. Involuntarily the names of Naxos, Tene-dos, and Carpathos, rise before the mind,and we seek vainly for Ulysses’ vessel or the“clipper” of the Argonauts. So at least itwas in Michel Ardan’s eyes. To him it wasa Grecian archipelago that he saw on themap. To the eyes of his matter-of-fact compan-ions, the aspect of these coasts recalled rather


the parceled-out land of New Brunswick andNova Scotia, and where the Frenchman dis-covered traces of the heroes of fable, theseAmericans were marking the most favorablepoints for the establishment of stores in theinterests of lunar commerce and industry.

After wandering over these vast conti-nents, the eye is attracted by the still greaterseas. Not only their formation, but their sit-uation and aspect remind one of the terres-trial oceans; but again, as on earth, these seasoccupy the greater portion of the globe. Butin point of fact, these are not liquid spaces,but plains, the nature of which the travelershoped soon to determine. Astronomers, wemust allow, have graced these pretended seaswith at least odd names, which science has re-spected up to the present time. Michel Ar-dan was right when he compared this mapto a “Tendre card,” got up by a Scudary ora Cyrano de Bergerac. “Only,” said he, “itis no longer the sentimental card of the sev-enteenth century, it is the card of life, veryneatly divided into two parts, one feminine,the other masculine; the right hemisphere forwoman, the left for man.”

In speaking thus, Michel made his prosaiccompanions shrug their shoulders. Barbicaneand Nicholl looked upon the lunar map froma very different point of view to that of theirfantastic friend. Nevertheless, their fantasticfriend was a little in the right. Judge for your-selves.

In the left hemisphere stretches the “Sea ofClouds,” where human reason is so often ship-

332 Round the Moon

wrecked. Not far off lies the “Sea of Rains,”fed by all the fever of existence. Near this isthe “Sea of Storms,” where man is ever fight-ing against his passions, which too often gainthe victory. Then, worn out by deceit, trea-sons, infidelity, and the whole body of terres-trial misery, what does he find at the end ofhis career? that vast “Sea of Humors,” barelysoftened by some drops of the waters fromthe “Gulf of Dew!” Clouds, rain, storms, andhumors—does the life of man contain aughtbut these? and is it not summed up in thesefour words?

The right hemisphere, “dedicated to theladies,” encloses smaller seas, whose signifi-cant names contain every incident of a fem-inine existence. There is the “Sea of Seren-ity,” over which the young girl bends; “TheLake of Dreams,” reflecting a joyous future;“The Sea of Nectar,” with its waves of tender-ness and breezes of love; “The Sea of Fruit-fulness;” “The Sea of Crises;” then the “Sea ofVapors,” whose dimensions are perhaps a lit-tle too confined; and lastly, that vast “Sea ofTranquillity,” in which every false passion, ev-ery useless dream, every unsatisfied desire isat length absorbed, and whose waves emergepeacefully into the “Lake of Death!”

What a strange succession of names! Whata singular division of the moon’s two hemi-spheres, joined to one another like man andwoman, and forming that sphere of life car-ried into space! And was not the fantas-tic Michel right in thus interpreting the fan-cies of the ancient astronomers? But while


his imagination thus roved over “the seas,”his grave companions were considering thingsmore geographically. They were learning thisnew world by heart. They were measuring an-gles and diameters.

334 Round the Moon

OROGRAPHICDETAILS

The course taken by the projectile, as we havebefore remarked, was bearing it toward themoon’s northern hemisphere. The travelerswere far from the central point which theywould have struck, had their course not beensubject to an irremediable deviation. It waspast midnight; and Barbicane then estimatedthe distance at seven hundred and fifty miles,which was a little greater than the length ofthe lunar radius, and which would diminishas it advanced nearer to the North Pole. Theprojectile was then not at the altitude of theequator; but across the tenth parallel, andfrom that latitude, carefully taken on the mapto the pole, Barbicane and his two compan-ions were able to observe the moon under themost favorable conditions. Indeed, by meansof glasses, the above-named distance was re-duced to little more than fourteen miles. Thetelescope of the Rocky Mountains brought themoon much nearer; but the terrestrial atmo-sphere singularly lessened its power. ThusBarbicane, posted in his projectile, with the

335

336 Round the Moon

glasses to his eyes, could seize upon detailswhich were almost imperceptible to earthlyobservers.

“My friends,” said the president, in a seri-ous voice, “I do not know whither we are go-ing; I do not know if we shall ever see theterrestrial globe again. Nevertheless, let usproceed as if our work would one day by use-ful to our fellow-men. Let us keep our mindsfree from every other consideration. We areastronomers; and this projectile is a room inthe Cambridge University, carried into space.Let us make our observations!”

This said, work was begun with great ex-actness; and they faithfully reproduced thedifferent aspects of the moon, at the differentdistances which the projectile reached.

At the time that the projectile was as highas the tenth parallel, north latitude, it seemedrigidly to follow the twentieth degree, eastlongitude. We must here make one impor-tant remark with regard to the map by whichthey were taking observations. In the seleno-graphical maps where, on account of the re-versing of the objects by the glasses, the southis above and the north below, it would seemnatural that, on account of that inversion, theeast should be to the left hand, and the westto the right. But it is not so. If the map wereturned upside down, showing the moon as wesee her, the east would be to the left, and thewest to the right, contrary to that which existson terrestrial maps. The following is the rea-son of this anomaly. Observers in the north-ern hemisphere (say in Europe) see the moon


in the south—according to them. When theytake observations, they turn their backs to thenorth, the reverse position to that which theyoccupy when they study a terrestrial map. Asthey turn their backs to the north, the east ison their left, and the west to their right. Toobservers in the southern hemisphere (Patag-onia for example), the moon’s west would bequite to their left, and the east to their right,as the south is behind them. Such is the rea-son of the apparent reversing of these two car-dinal points, and we must bear it in mindin order to be able to follow President Barbi-cane’s observations.

With the help of Boeer and Moedler’sMappa Selenographica, the travelers wereable at once to recognize that portion of thedisc enclosed within the field of their glasses.

“What are we looking at, at this moment?”asked Michel.

“At the northern part of the ‘Sea ofClouds,”’ answered Barbicane. “We are too faroff to recognize its nature. Are these plainscomposed of arid sand, as the first astronomermaintained? Or are they nothing but im-mense forests, according to M. Warren de laRue’s opinion, who gives the moon an atmo-sphere, though a very low and a very denseone? That we shall know by and by. We mustaffirm nothing until we are in a position to doso.”

This “Sea of Clouds” is rather doubtfullymarked out upon the maps. It is supposedthat these vast plains are strewn with blocksof lava from the neighboring volcanoes on its

338 Round the Moon

right, Ptolemy, Purbach, Arzachel. But theprojectile was advancing, and sensibly near-ing it. Soon there appeared the heights whichbound this sea at this northern limit. Beforethem rose a mountain radiant with beauty,the top of which seemed lost in an eruptionof solar rays.

“That is—?” asked Michel.“Copernicus,” replied Barbicane.“Let us see Copernicus.”This mount, situated in 9◦ north latitude

and 20◦ east longitude, rose to a height of10,600 feet above the surface of the moon. It isquite visible from the earth; and astronomerscan study it with ease, particularly during thephase between the last quarter and the newmoon, because then the shadows are thrownlengthways from east to west, allowing themto measure the heights.

This Copernicus forms the most importantof the radiating system, situated in the south-ern hemisphere, according to Tycho Brahe.It rises isolated like a gigantic lighthouse onthat portion of the “Sea of Clouds,” which isbounded by the “Sea of Tempests,” thus light-ing by its splendid rays two oceans at a time.It was a sight without an equal, those long lu-minous trains, so dazzling in the full moon,and which, passing the boundary chain onthe north, extends to the “Sea of Rains.” Atone o’clock of the terrestrial morning, the pro-jectile, like a balloon borne into space, over-looked the top of this superb mount. Bar-bicane could recognize perfectly its chief fea-tures. Copernicus is comprised in the se-


ries of ringed mountains of the first order,in the division of great circles. Like Keplerand Aristarchus, which overlook the “Ocean ofTempests,” sometimes it appeared like a bril-liant point through the cloudy light, and wastaken for a volcano in activity. But it is only anextinct one—like all on that side of the moon.Its circumference showed a diameter of abouttwenty-two leagues. The glasses discoveredtraces of stratification produced by successiveeruptions, and the neighborhood was strewnwith volcanic remains which still choked someof the craters.

“There exist,” said Barbicane, “severalkinds of circles on the surface of the moon, andit is easy to see that Copernicus belongs to theradiating class. If we were nearer, we shouldsee the cones bristling on the inside, which informer times were so many fiery mouths. Acurious arrangement, and one without an ex-ception on the lunar disc, is that the interiorsurface of these circles is the reverse of the ex-terior, and contrary to the form taken by ter-restrial craters. It follows, then, that the gen-eral curve of the bottom of these circles gives asphere of a smaller diameter than that of themoon.”

“And why this peculiar disposition?” askedNicholl.

“We do not know,” replied Barbicane.“What splendid radiation!” said Michel.

“One could hardly see a finer spectacle, Ithink.”

“What would you say, then,” replied Bar-bicane, “if chance should bear us toward the

340 Round the Moon

southern hemisphere?”“Well, I should say that it was still more

beautiful,” retorted Michel Ardan.At this moment the projectile hung per-

pendicularly over the circle. The circumfer-ence of Copernicus formed almost a perfectcircle, and its steep escarpments were clearlydefined. They could even distinguish a secondringed enclosure. Around spread a grayishplain, of a wild aspect, on which every reliefwas marked in yellow. At the bottom of the cir-cle, as if enclosed in a jewel case, sparkled forone instant two or three eruptive cones, likeenormous dazzling gems. Toward the norththe escarpments were lowered by a depressionwhich would probably have given access to theinterior of the crater.

In passing over the surrounding plains,Barbicane noticed a great number of less im-portant mountains; and among others a littleringed one called Guy Lussac, the breadth ofwhich measured twelve miles.

Toward the south, the plain was very flat,without one elevation, without one projection.Toward the north, on the contrary, till where itwas bounded by the “Sea of Storms,” it resem-bled a liquid surface agitated by a storm, ofwhich the hills and hollows formed a succes-sion of waves suddenly congealed. Over thewhole of this, and in all directions, lay the lu-minous lines, all converging to the summit ofCopernicus.

The travelers discussed the origin of thesestrange rays; but they could not determinetheir nature any more than terrestrial ob-


servers.“But why,” said Nicholl, “should not these

rays be simply spurs of mountains which re-flect more vividly the light of the sun?”

“No,” replied Barbicane; “if it was so, undercertain conditions of the moon, these ridgeswould cast shadows, and they do not cast any.”

And indeed, these rays only appearedwhen the orb of day was in opposition to themoon, and disappeared as soon as its rays be-came oblique.

“But how have they endeavored to explainthese lines of light?” asked Michel; “for Icannot believe that savants would ever bestranded for want of an explanation.”

“Yes,” replied Barbicane; “Herschel has putforward an opinion, but he did not venture toaffirm it.”

“Never mind. What was the opinion?”“He thought that these rays might be

streams of cooled lava which shone when thesun beat straight upon them. It may be so;but nothing can be less certain. Besides, ifwe pass nearer to Tycho, we shall be in a bet-ter position to find out the cause of this radia-tion.”

“Do you know, my friends, what that plain,seen from the height we are at, resembles?”said Michel.

“No,” replied Nicholl.“Very well; with all those pieces of lava

lengthened like rockets, it resembles an im-mense game of spelikans thrown pellmell.There wants but the hook to pull them out oneby one.”

342 Round the Moon

“Do be serious,” said Barbicane.“Well, let us be serious,” replied Michel

quietly; “and instead of spelikans, let us putbones. This plain, would then be nothing butan immense cemetery, on which would reposethe mortal remains of thousands of extinctgenerations. Do you prefer that high-flowncomparison?”

“One is as good as the other,” retorted Bar-bicane.

“My word, you are difficult to please,” an-swered Michel.

“My worthy friend,” continued the matter-of-fact Barbicane, “it matters but little what itresembles, when we do not know what it is.”

“Well answered,” exclaimed Michel. “Thatwill teach me to reason with savants.”

But the projectile continued to advancewith almost uniform speed around the lunardisc. The travelers, we may easily imagine,did not dream of taking a moment’s rest. Ev-ery minute changed the landscape which fledfrom beneath their gaze. About half past oneo’clock in the morning, they caught a glimpseof the tops of another mountain. Barbicane,consulting his map, recognized Eratosthenes.

It was a ringed mountain nine thousandfeet high, and one of those circles so numerouson this satellite. With regard to this, Barbi-cane related Kepler’s singular opinion on theformation of circles. According to that cele-brated mathematician, these crater-like cavi-ties had been dug by the hand of man.

“For what purpose?” asked Nicholl.“For a very natural one,” replied Barbi-


cane. “The Selenites might have undertakenthese immense works and dug these enor-mous holes for a refuge and shield from thesolar rays which beat upon them during fif-teen consecutive days.”

“The Selenites are not fools,” said Michel.“A singular idea,” replied Nicholl; “but it

is probable that Kepler did not know the truedimensions of these circles, for the diggingof them would have been the work of giantsquite impossible for the Selenites.”

“Why? if weight on the moon’s surface issix times less than on the earth?” said Michel.

“But if the Selenites are six timessmaller?” retorted Nicholl.

“And if there are no Selenites?” added Bar-bicane.

This put an end to the discussion.Soon Eratosthenes disappeared under the

horizon without the projectile being suffi-ciently near to allow close observation. Thismountain separated the Apennines from theCarpathians. In the lunar orography theyhave discerned some chains of mountains,which are chiefly distributed over the north-ern hemisphere. Some, however, occupy cer-tain portions of the southern hemisphere also.

About two o’clock in the morning Barbi-cane found that they were above the twenti-eth lunar parallel. The distance of the projec-tile from the moon was not more than six hun-dred miles. Barbicane, now perceiving thatthe projectile was steadily approaching the lu-nar disc, did not despair; if not of reaching her,at least of discovering the secrets of her con-

344 Round the Moon

figuration.

LUNARLANDSCAPES

At half-past two in the morning, the projec-tile was over the thirteenth lunar parallel andat the effective distance of five hundred miles,reduced by the glasses to five. It still seemedimpossible, however, that it could ever touchany part of the disc. Its motive speed, compar-atively so moderate, was inexplicable to Pres-ident Barbicane. At that distance from themoon it must have been considerable, to en-able it to bear up against her attraction. Herewas a phenomenon the cause of which escapedthem again. Besides, time failed them to in-vestigate the cause. All lunar relief was defil-ing under the eyes of the travelers, and theywould not lose a single detail.

Under the glasses the disc appeared at thedistance of five miles. What would an aero-naut, borne to this distance from the earth,distinguish on its surface? We cannot say,since the greatest ascension has not beenmore than 25,000 feet.

This, however, is an exact description ofwhat Barbicane and his companions saw at

345

346 Round the Moon

this height. Large patches of different col-ors appeared on the disc. Selenographers arenot agreed upon the nature of these colors.There are several, and rather vividly marked.Julius Schmidt pretends that, if the terres-trial oceans were dried up, a Selenite observercould not distinguish on the globe a greaterdiversity of shades between the oceans andthe continental plains than those on the moonpresent to a terrestrial observer. Accordingto him, the color common to the vast plainsknown by the name of “seas” is a dark graymixed with green and brown. Some of thelarge craters present the same appearance.Barbicane knew this opinion of the Germanselenographer, an opinion shared by Boeerand Moedler. Observation has proved thatright was on their side, and not on that ofsome astronomers who admit the existence ofonly gray on the moon’s surface. In some partsgreen was very distinct, such as springs, ac-cording to Julius Schmidt, from the seas of“Serenity and Humors.” Barbicane also no-ticed large craters, without any interior cones,which shed a bluish tint similar to the reflec-tion of a sheet of steel freshly polished. Thesecolors belonged really to the lunar disc, anddid not result, as some astronomers say, ei-ther from the imperfection in the objective ofthe glasses or from the interposition of the ter-restrial atmosphere.

Not a doubt existed in Barbicane’s mindwith regard to it, as he observed it throughspace, and so could not commit any opticalerror. He considered the establishment of


this fact as an acquisition to science. Now,were these shades of green, belonging to trop-ical vegetation, kept up by a low dense atmo-sphere? He could not yet say.

Farther on, he noticed a reddish tint, quitedefined. The same shade had before been ob-served at the bottom of an isolated enclosure,known by the name of Lichtenburg’s circle,which is situated near the Hercynian moun-tains, on the borders of the moon; but theycould not tell the nature of it.

They were not more fortunate with regardto another peculiarity of the disc, for theycould not decide upon the cause of it.

Michel Ardan was watching near the presi-dent, when he noticed long white lines, vividlylighted up by the direct rays of the sun. It wasa succession of luminous furrows, very differ-ent from the radiation of Copernicus not longbefore; they ran parallel with each other.

Michel, with his usual readiness, hastenedto exclaim:

“Look there! cultivated fields!”“Cultivated fields!” replied Nicholl, shrug-

ging his shoulders.“Plowed, at all events,” retorted Michel Ar-

dan; “but what laborers those Selenites mustbe, and what giant oxen they must harness totheir plow to cut such furrows!”

“They are not furrows,” said Barbicane;“they are rifts.”

“Rifts? stuff!” replied Michel mildly; “butwhat do you mean by ‘rifts’ in the scientificworld?”

Barbicane immediately enlightened his

348 Round the Moon

companion as to what he knew about lunarrifts. He knew that they were a kind of furrowfound on every part of the disc which was notmountainous; that these furrows, generallyisolated, measured from 400 to 500 leagues inlength; that their breadth varied from 1,000to 1,500 yards, and that their borders werestrictly parallel; but he knew nothing more ei-ther of their formation or their nature.

Barbicane, through his glasses, observedthese rifts with great attention. He noticedthat their borders were formed of steep de-clivities; they were long parallel ramparts,and with some small amount of imaginationhe might have admitted the existence of longlines of fortifications, raised by Selenite engi-neers. Of these different rifts some were per-fectly straight, as if cut by a line; others wereslightly curved, though still keeping theirborders parallel; some crossed each other,some cut through craters; here they woundthrough ordinary cavities, such as Posidoniusor Petavius; there they wound through theseas, such as the “Sea of Serenity.”

These natural accidents naturally excitedthe imaginations of these terrestrial as-tronomers. The first observations had not dis-covered these rifts. Neither Hevelius, Cassin,La Hire, nor Herschel seemed to have knownthem. It was Schroeter who in 1789 first drewattention to them. Others followed who stud-ied them, as Pastorff, Gruithuysen, Boeer, andMoedler. At this time their number amountsto seventy; but, if they have been counted,their nature has not yet been determined;


they are certainly not fortifications, any morethan they are the ancient beds of dried-uprivers; for, on one side, the waters, so slighton the moon’s surface, could never have wornsuch drains for themselves; and, on the other,they often cross craters of great elevation.

We must, however, allow that Michel Ar-dan had “an idea,” and that, without know-ing it, he coincided in that respect with JuliusSchmidt.

“Why,” said he, “should not these unac-countable appearances be simply phenomenaof vegetation?”

“What do you mean?” asked Barbicanequickly.

“Do not excite yourself, my worthy presi-dent,” replied Michel; “might it not be possiblethat the dark lines forming that bastion wererows of trees regularly placed?”

“You stick to your vegetation, then?” saidBarbicane.

“I like,” retorted Michel Ardan, “to explainwhat you savants cannot explain; at least myhypotheses has the advantage of indicatingwhy these rifts disappear, or seem to disap-pear, at certain seasons.”

“And for what reason?”“For the reason that the trees become in-

visible when they lose their leaves, and visibleagain when they regain them.”

“Your explanation is ingenious, my dearcompanion,” replied Barbicane, “but inadmis-sible.”

“Why?”“Because, so to speak, there are no sea-

350 Round the Moon

sons on the moon’s surface, and that, conse-quently, the phenomena of vegetation of whichyou speak cannot occur.”

Indeed, the slight obliquity of the lunaraxis keeps the sun at an almost equal heightin every latitude. Above the equatorial re-gions the radiant orb almost invariably occu-pies the zenith, and does not pass the limits ofthe horizon in the polar regions; thus, accord-ing to each region, there reigns a perpetualwinter, spring, summer, or autumn, as in theplanet Jupiter, whose axis is but little inclinedupon its orbit.

What origin do they attribute to theserifts? That is a question difficult to solve.They are certainly anterior to the formationof craters and circles, for several have intro-duced themselves by breaking through theircircular ramparts. Thus it may be that, con-temporary with the later geological epochs,they are due to the expansion of naturalforces.

But the projectile had now attained the for-tieth degree of lunar latitude, at a distancenot exceeding 400 miles. Through the glassesobjects appeared to be only four miles distant.

At this point, under their feet, rose MountHelicon, 1,520 feet high, and round aboutthe left rose moderate elevations, enclosing asmall portion of the “Sea of Rains,” under thename of the Gulf of Iris. The terrestrial at-mosphere would have to be one hundred andseventy times more transparent than it is, toallow astronomers to make perfect observa-tions on the moon’s surface; but in the void


in which the projectile floated no fluid inter-posed itself between the eye of the observerand the object observed. And more, Barbicanefound himself carried to a greater distancethan the most powerful telescopes had everdone before, either that of Lord Rosse or thatof the Rocky Mountains. He was, therefore,under extremely favorable conditions for solv-ing that great question of the habitability ofthe moon; but the solution still escaped him;he could distinguish nothing but desert beds,immense plains, and toward the north, aridmountains. Not a work betrayed the handof man; not a ruin marked his course; not agroup of animals was to be seen indicatinglife, even in an inferior degree. In no part wasthere life, in no part was there an appearanceof vegetation. Of the three kingdoms whichshare the terrestrial globe between them, onealone was represented on the lunar and thatthe mineral.

“Ah, indeed!” said Michel Ardan, a littleout of countenance; “then you see no one?”

“No,” answered Nicholl; “up to this time,not a man, not an animal, not a tree! After all,whether the atmosphere has taken refuge atthe bottom of cavities, in the midst of the cir-cles, or even on the opposite face of the moon,we cannot decide.”

“Besides,” added Barbicane, “even to themost piercing eye a man cannot be distin-guished farther than three and a half milesoff; so that, if there are any Selenites, they cansee our projectile, but we cannot see them.”

Toward four in the morning, at the height

352 Round the Moon

of the fiftieth parallel, the distance was re-duced to 300 miles. To the left ran a line ofmountains capriciously shaped, lying in thefull light. To the right, on the contrary, laya black hollow resembling a vast well, unfath-omable and gloomy, drilled into the lunar soil.

This hole was the “Black Lake”; it wasPluto, a deep circle which can be convenientlystudied from the earth, between the last quar-ter and the new moon, when the shadows fallfrom west to east.

This black color is rarely met with on thesurface of the satellite. As yet it has onlybeen recognized in the depths of the circle ofEndymion, to the east of the “Cold Sea,” inthe northern hemisphere, and at the bottomof Grimaldi’s circle, on the equator, toward theeastern border of the orb.

Pluto is an annular mountain, situated in51◦ north latitude, and 9◦ east longitude. Itscircuit is forty-seven miles long and thirty-twobroad.

Barbicane regretted that they were notpassing directly above this vast opening.There was an abyss to fathom, perhaps somemysterious phenomenon to surprise; but theprojectile’s course could not be altered. Theymust rigidly submit. They could not guide aballoon, still less a projectile, when once en-closed within its walls. Toward five in themorning the northern limits of the “Sea ofRains” was at length passed. The mounts ofCondamine and Fontenelle remained—one onthe right, the other on the left. That partof the disc beginning with 60◦ was becoming


quite mountainous. The glasses brought themto within two miles, less than that separatingthe summit of Mont Blanc from the level ofthe sea. The whole region was bristling withspikes and circles. Toward the 60◦ Philolausstood predominant at a height of 5,550 feetwith its elliptical crater, and seen from thisdistance, the disc showed a very fantasticalappearance. Landscapes were presented tothe eye under very different conditions fromthose on the earth, and also very inferior tothem.

The moon having no atmosphere, the con-sequences arising from the absence of thisgaseous envelope have already been shown.No twilight on her surface; night followingday and day following night with the sud-denness of a lamp which is extinguished orlighted amid profound darkness—no transi-tion from cold to heat, the temperature fallingin an instant from boiling point to the cold ofspace.

Another consequence of this want of air isthat absolute darkness reigns where the sun’srays do not penetrate. That which on earthis called diffusion of light, that luminous mat-ter which the air holds in suspension, whichcreates the twilight and the daybreak, whichproduces the umbrae and penumbrae, and allthe magic of chiaro-oscuro, does not exist onthe moon. Hence the harshness of contrasts,which only admit of two colors, black andwhite. If a Selenite were to shade his eyesfrom the sun’s rays, the sky would seem ab-solutely black, and the stars would shine to

354 Round the Moon

him as on the darkest night. Judge of theimpression produced on Barbicane and histhree friends by this strange scene! Theireyes were confused. They could no longergrasp the respective distances of the differ-ent plains. A lunar landscape without thesoftening of the phenomena of chiaro-oscurocould not be rendered by an earthly landscapepainter; it would be spots of ink on a whitepage—nothing more.

This aspect was not altered even when theprojectile, at the height of 80◦, was only sep-arated from the moon by a distance of fiftymiles; nor even when, at five in the morning,it passed at less than twenty-five miles fromthe mountain of Gioja, a distance reduced bythe glasses to a quarter of a mile. It seemed asif the moon might be touched by the hand! Itseemed impossible that, before long, the pro-jectile would not strike her, if only at the northpole, the brilliant arch of which was so dis-tinctly visible on the black sky.

Michel Ardan wanted to open one of thescuttles and throw himself on to the moon’ssurface! A very useless attempt; for if the pro-jectile could not attain any point whatever ofthe satellite, Michel, carried along by its mo-tion, could not attain it either.

At that moment, at six o’clock, the lunarpole appeared. The disc only presented tothe travelers’ gaze one half brilliantly lit up,while the other disappeared in the darkness.Suddenly the projectile passed the line of de-marcation between intense light and absolutedarkness, and was plunged in profound night!

THE NIGHT OFTHREE HUNDREDAND FIFTY-FOURHOURS AND AHALF

At the moment when this phenomenon tookplace so rapidly, the projectile was skirtingthe moon’s north pole at less than twenty-five miles distance. Some seconds had suf-ficed to plunge it into the absolute darkness ofspace. The transition was so sudden, withoutshade, without gradation of light, without at-tenuation of the luminous waves, that the orbseemed to have been extinguished by a power-ful blow.

“Melted, disappeared!” Michel Ardan ex-claimed, aghast.

Indeed, there was neither reflection norshadow. Nothing more was to be seen of thatdisc, formerly so dazzling. The darkness wascomplete. and rendered even more so by therays from the stars. It was “that blackness” in

355

356 Round the Moon

which the lunar nights are insteeped, whichlast three hundred and fifty-four hours anda half at each point of the disc, a long nightresulting from the equality of the translatoryand rotary movements of the moon. The pro-jectile, immerged in the conical shadow of thesatellite, experienced the action of the solarrays no more than any of its invisible points.

In the interior, the obscurity was complete.They could not see each other. Hence the ne-cessity of dispelling the darkness. Howeverdesirous Barbicane might be to husband thegas, the reserve of which was small, he wasobliged to ask from it a fictitious light, an ex-pensive brilliancy which the sun then refused.

“Devil take the radiant orb!” exclaimedMichel Ardan, “which forces us to expend gas,instead of giving us his rays gratuitously.”

“Do not let us accuse the sun,” said Nicholl,“it is not his fault, but that of the moon, whichhas come and placed herself like a screen be-tween us and it.”

“It is the sun!” continued Michel.“It is the moon!” retorted Nicholl.An idle dispute, which Barbicane put an

end to by saying:“My friends, it is neither the fault of the

sun nor of the moon; it is the fault of the pro-jectile, which, instead of rigidly following itscourse, has awkwardly missed it. To be morejust, it is the fault of that unfortunate meteorwhich has so deplorably altered our first di-rection.”

“Well,” replied Michel Ardan, “as the mat-ter is settled, let us have breakfast. After a

The Night of 354 Hours and a Half 357

whole night of watching it is fair to build our-selves up a little.”

This proposal meeting with no contradic-tion, Michel prepared the repast in a few min-utes. But they ate for eating’s sake, theydrank without toasts, without hurrahs. Thebold travelers being borne away into gloomyspace, without their accustomed cortège ofrays, felt a vague uneasiness in their hearts.The “strange” shadow so dear to Victor Hugo’spen bound them on all sides. But they talkedover the interminable night of three hundredand fifty-four hours and a half, nearly fifteendays, which the law of physics has imposed onthe inhabitants of the moon.

Barbicane gave his friends some explana-tion of the causes and the consequences of thiscurious phenomenon.

“Curious indeed,” said they; “for, if eachhemisphere of the moon is deprived of solarlight for fifteen days, that above which we nowfloat does not even enjoy during its long nightany view of the earth so beautifully lit up. In aword she has no moon (applying this designa-tion to our globe) but on one side of her disc.Now if this were the case with the earth—if,for example, Europe never saw the moon, andshe was only visible at the antipodes, imagineto yourself the astonishment of a European onarriving in Australia.”

“They would make the voyage for nothingbut to see the moon!” replied Michel.

“Very well!” continued Barbicane, “that as-tonishment is reserved for the Selenites whoinhabit the face of the moon opposite to the

358 Round the Moon

earth, a face which is ever invisible to ourcountrymen of the terrestrial globe.”

“And which we should have seen,” addedNicholl, “if we had arrived here when themoon was new, that is to say fifteen dayslater.”

“I will add, to make amends,” continuedBarbicane, “that the inhabitants of the visi-ble face are singularly favored by nature, tothe detriment of their brethren on the invis-ible face. The latter, as you see, have darknights of 354 hours, without one single rayto break the darkness. The other, on the con-trary, when the sun which has given its lightfor fifteen days sinks below the horizon, see asplendid orb rise on the opposite horizon. Itis the earth, which is thirteen times greaterthan the diminutive moon that we know—theearth which developes itself at a diameter oftwo degrees, and which sheds a light thir-teen times greater than that qualified by at-mospheric strata—the earth which only dis-appears at the moment when the sun reap-pears in its turn!”

“Nicely worded!” said Michel, “slightly aca-demical perhaps.”

“It follows, then,” continued Barbicane,without knitting his brows, “that the visibleface of the disc must be very agreeable to in-habit, since it always looks on either the sunwhen the moon is full, or on the earth whenthe moon is new.”

“But,” said Nicholl, “that advantage mustbe well compensated by the insupportableheat which the light brings with it.”


“The inconvenience, in that respect, is thesame for the two faces, for the earth’s light isevidently deprived of heat. But the invisibleface is still more searched by the heat thanthe visible face. I say that for you, Nicholl,because Michel will probably not understand.”

“Thank you,” said Michel.“Indeed,” continued Barbicane, “when the

invisible face receives at the same time lightand heat from the sun, it is because the moonis new; that is to say, she is situated betweenthe sun and the earth. It follows, then, con-sidering the position which she occupies inopposition when full, that she is nearer tothe sun by twice her distance from the earth;and that distance may be estimated at thetwo-hundredth part of that which separatesthe sun from the earth, or in round numbers400,000 miles. So that invisible face is somuch nearer to the sun when she receives itsrays.”

“Quite right,” replied Nicholl.“On the contrary,” continued Barbicane.“One moment,” said Michel, interrupting

his grave companion.“What do you want?”“I ask to be allowed to continue the expla-

nation.”“And why?”“To prove that I understand.”“Get along with you,” said Barbicane, smil-

ing.“On the contrary,” said Michel, imitating

the tone and gestures of the president, “on thecontrary, when the visible face of the moon is

360 Round the Moon

lit by the sun, it is because the moon is full,that is to say, opposite the sun with regard tothe earth. The distance separating it from theradiant orb is then increased in round num-bers to 400,000 miles, and the heat which shereceives must be a little less.”

“Very well said!” exclaimed Barbicane. “Doyou know, Michel, that, for an amateur, youare intelligent.”

“Yes,” replied Michel coolly, “we are all soon the Boulevard des Italiens.”

Barbicane gravely grasped the hand of hisamiable companion, and continued to enumer-ate the advantages reserved for the inhabi-tants of the visible face.

Among others, he mentioned eclipses of thesun, which only take place on this side of thelunar disc; since, in order that they may takeplace, it is necessary for the moon to be in op-position. These eclipses, caused by the inter-position of the earth between the moon andthe sun, can last two hours; during whichtime, by reason of the rays refracted by its at-mosphere, the terrestrial globe can appear asnothing but a black point upon the sun.

“So,” said Nicholl, “there is a hemisphere,that invisible hemisphere which is very illsupplied, very ill treated, by nature.”

“Never mind,” replied Michel; “if we everbecome Selenites, we will inhabit the visibleface. I like the light.”

“Unless, by any chance,” answered Nicholl,“the atmosphere should be condensed on theother side, as certain astronomers pretend.”

“That would be a consideration,” said


Michel.Breakfast over, the observers returned to

their post. They tried to see through the dark-ened scuttles by extinguishing all light in theprojectile; but not a luminous spark made itsway through the darkness.

One inexplicable fact preoccupied Barbi-cane. Why, having passed within such a shortdistance of the moon—about twenty-five milesonly—why the projectile had not fallen? If itsspeed had been enormous, he could have un-derstood that the fall would not have takenplace; but, with a relatively moderate speed,that resistance to the moon’s attraction couldnot be explained. Was the projectile undersome foreign influence? Did some kind ofbody retain it in the ether? It was quite ev-ident that it could never reach any point ofthe moon. Whither was it going? Was it goingfarther from, or nearing, the disc? Was it be-ing borne in that profound darkness throughthe infinity of space? How could they learn,how calculate, in the midst of this night? Allthese questions made Barbicane uneasy, buthe could not solve them.

Certainly, the invisible orb was there, per-haps only some few miles off; but neither henor his companions could see it. If there wasany noise on its surface, they could not hearit. Air, that medium of sound, was wantingto transmit the groanings of that moon whichthe Arabic legends call “a man already halfgranite, and still breathing.”

One must allow that that was enough toaggravate the most patient observers. It was

362 Round the Moon

just that unknown hemisphere which wasstealing from their sight. That face whichfifteen days sooner, or fifteen days later, hadbeen, or would be, splendidly illuminated bythe solar rays, was then being lost in ut-ter darkness. In fifteen days where wouldthe projectile be? Who could say? Wherewould the chances of conflicting attractionshave drawn it to? The disappointment of thetravelers in the midst of this utter darknessmay be imagined. All observation of the lu-nar disc was impossible. The constellationsalone claimed all their attention; and we mustallow that the astronomers Faye, Charconac,and Secchi, never found themselves in circum-stances so favorable for their observation.

Indeed, nothing could equal the splen-dor of this starry world, bathed in limpidether. Its diamonds set in the heavenly vaultsparkled magnificently. The eye took in thefirmament from the Southern Cross to theNorth Star, those two constellations which in12,000 years, by reason of the succession ofequinoxes, will resign their part of the po-lar stars, the one to Canopus in the southernhemisphere, the other to Wega in the north-ern. Imagination loses itself in this sublimeInfinity, amid which the projectile was grav-itating, like a new star created by the handof man. From a natural cause, these constel-lations shone with a soft luster; they did nottwinkle, for there was no atmosphere which,by the intervention of its layers unequallydense and of different degrees of humidity,produces this scintillation. These stars were


soft eyes, looking out into the dark night,amid the silence of absolute space.

Long did the travelers stand mute, watch-ing the constellated firmament, upon whichthe moon, like a vast screen, made an enor-mous black hole. But at length a painful sen-sation drew them from their watchings. Thiswas an intense cold, which soon covered theinside of the glass of the scuttles with a thickcoating of ice. The sun was no longer warm-ing the projectile with its direct rays, and thusit was losing the heat stored up in its wallsby degrees. This heat was rapidly evaporat-ing into space by radiation, and a consider-ably lower temperature was the result. Thehumidity of the interior was changed into iceupon contact with the glass, preventing all ob-servation.

Nicholl consulted the thermometer, andsaw that it had fallen to seventeen degrees(Centigrade) below zero.3 So that, in spite ofthe many reasons for economizing, Barbicane,after having begged light from the gas, wasalso obliged to beg for heat. The projectile’slow temperature was no longer endurable. Itstenants would have been frozen to death.

“Well!” observed Michel, “we cannot rea-sonably complain of the monotony of our jour-ney! What variety we have had, at least intemperature. Now we are blinded with lightand saturated with heat, like the Indians ofthe Pampas! now plunged into profound dark-ness, amid the cold, like the Esquimaux of the

3 1◦ Fahrenheit.

364 Round the Moon

north pole. No, indeed! we have no right tocomplain; nature does wonders in our honor.”

“But,” asked Nicholl, “what is the temper-ature outside?”

“Exactly that of the planetary space,”replied Barbicane.

“Then,” continued Michel Ardan, “wouldnot this be the time to make the experimentwhich we dared not attempt when we weredrowned in the sun’s rays?

“It is now or never,” replied Barbicane, “forwe are in a good position to verify the temper-ature of space, and see if Fourier or Pouillet’scalculations are exact.”

“In any case it is cold,” said Michel. “See!the steam of the interior is condensing onthe glasses of the scuttles. If the fall contin-ues, the vapor of our breath will fall in snowaround us.”

“Let us prepare a thermometer,” said Bar-bicane.

We may imagine that an ordinary ther-mometer would afford no result under the cir-cumstances in which this instrument was tobe exposed. The mercury would have beenfrozen in its ball, as below 42◦ Fahrenheit be-low zero it is no longer liquid. But Barbi-cane had furnished himself with a spirit ther-mometer on Wafferdin’s system, which givesthe minima of excessively low temperatures.

Before beginning the experiment, this in-strument was compared with an ordinary one,and then Barbicane prepared to use it.

“How shall we set about it?” asked Nicholl.“Nothing is easier,” replied Michel Ardan,


who was never at a loss. “We open the scuttlerapidly; throw out the instrument; it followsthe projectile with exemplary docility; and aquarter of an hour after, draw it in.”

“With the hand?” asked Barbicane.“With the hand,” replied Michel.“Well, then, my friend, do not expose your-

self,” answered Barbicane, “for the hand thatyou draw in again will be nothing but a stumpfrozen and deformed by the frightful cold.”

“Really!”“You will feel as if you had had a terrible

burn, like that of iron at a white heat; forwhether the heat leaves our bodies briskly orenters briskly, it is exactly the same thing. Be-sides, I am not at all certain that the objectswe have thrown out are still following us.”

“Why not?” asked Nicholl.“Because, if we are passing through an at-

mosphere of the slightest density, these ob-jects will be retarded. Again, the darknessprevents our seeing if they still float aroundus. But in order not to expose ourselves to theloss of our thermometer, we will fasten it, andwe can then more easily pull it back again.”

Barbicane’s advice was followed. Throughthe scuttle rapidly opened, Nicholl threw outthe instrument, which was held by a shortcord, so that it might be more easily drawn up.The scuttle had not been opened more than asecond, but that second had sufficed to let in amost intense cold.

“The devil!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “it iscold enough to freeze a white bear.”

Barbicane waited until half an hour had

366 Round the Moon

elapsed, which was more than time enoughto allow the instrument to fall to the level ofthe surrounding temperature. Then it wasrapidly pulled in.

Barbicane calculated the quantity of spir-its of wine overflowed into the little vial sol-dered to the lower part of the instrument, andsaid:

“A hundred and forty degrees Centigrade4

below zero!”M. Pouillet was right and Fourier wrong.

That was the undoubted temperature of thestarry space. Such is, perhaps, that of the lu-nar continents, when the orb of night has lostby radiation all the heat which fifteen days ofsun have poured into her.

4218 degrees Fahrenheit below zero.

HYPERBOLA ORPARABOLA

We may, perhaps, be astonished to find Bar-bicane and his companions so little occupiedwith the future reserved for them in theirmetal prison which was bearing them throughthe infinity of space. Instead of asking wherethey were going, they passed their time mak-ing experiments, as if they had been quietlyinstalled in their own study.

We might answer that men so strong-minded were above such anxieties—thatthey did not trouble themselves about suchtrifles—and that they had something else todo than to occupy their minds with the future.

The truth was that they were not mastersof their projectile; they could neither check itscourse, nor alter its direction.

A sailor can change the head of his shipas he pleases; an aeronaut can give a verticalmotion to his balloon. They, on the contrary,had no power over their vehicle. Every ma-neuver was forbidden. Hence the inclinationto let things alone, or as the sailors say, “lether run.”

367

368 Round the Moon

Where did they find themselves at this mo-ment, at eight o’clock in the morning of theday called upon the earth the 6th of Decem-ber? Very certainly in the neighborhood ofthe moon, and even near enough for her tolook to them like an enormous black screenupon the firmament. As to the distance whichseparated them, it was impossible to estimateit. The projectile, held by some unaccountableforce, had been within four miles of grazingthe satellite’s north pole.

But since entering the cone of shadowthese last two hours, had the distance in-creased or diminished? Every point of markwas wanting by which to estimate both the di-rection and the speed of the projectile.

Perhaps it was rapidly leaving the disc, sothat it would soon quit the pure shadow. Per-haps, again, on the other hand, it might benearing it so much that in a short time itmight strike some high point on the invisi-ble hemisphere, which would doubtlessly haveended the journey much to the detriment ofthe travelers.

A discussion arose on this subject, andMichel Ardan, always ready with an explana-tion, gave it as his opinion that the projectile,held by the lunar attraction, would end byfalling on the surface of the terrestrial globelike an aerolite.

“First of all, my friend,” answered Barbi-cane, “every aerolite does not fall to the earth;it is only a small proportion which do so; andif we had passed into an aerolite, it does notnecessarily follow that we should ever reach


the surface of the moon.”“But how if we get near enough?” replied

Michel.“Pure mistake,” replied Barbicane. “Have

you not seen shooting stars rush through thesky by thousands at certain seasons?”

“Yes.”“Well, these stars, or rather corpuscles,

only shine when they are heated by glidingover the atmospheric layers. Now, if they en-ter the atmosphere, they pass at least withinforty miles of the earth, but they seldom fallupon it. The same with our projectile. It mayapproach very near to the moon, and not yetfall upon it.”

“But then,” asked Michel, “I shall be curi-ous to know how our erring vehicle will act inspace?”

“I see but two hypotheses,” replied Barbi-cane, after some moments’ reflection.

“What are they?”“The projectile has the choice between two

mathematical curves, and it will follow one orthe other according to the speed with whichit is animated, and which at this moment Icannot estimate.”

“Yes,” said Nicholl, “it will follow either aparabola or a hyperbola.”

“Just so,” replied Barbicane. “With a cer-tain speed it will assume the parabola, andwith a greater the hyperbola.”

“I like those grand words,” exclaimedMichel Ardan; “one knows directly what theymean. And pray what is your parabola, if youplease?”

370 Round the Moon

“My friend,” answered the captain, “theparabola is a curve of the second order, theresult of the section of a cone intersected by aplane parallel to one of the sides.”

“Ah! ah!” said Michel, in a satisfied tone.“It is very nearly,” continued Nicholl, “the

course described by a bomb launched from amortar.”

“Perfect! And the hyperbola?”“The hyperbola, Michel, is a curve of the

second order, produced by the intersection ofa conic surface and a plane parallel to its axis,and constitutes two branches separated onefrom the other, both tending indefinitely inthe two directions.”

“Is it possible!” exclaimed Michel Ardan ina serious tone, as if they had told him of someserious event. “What I particularly like inyour definition of the hyperbola (I was goingto say hyperblague) is that it is still more ob-scure than the word you pretend to define.”

Nicholl and Barbicane cared little forMichel Ardan’s fun. They were deep in a sci-entific discussion. What curve would the pro-jectile follow? was their hobby. One main-tained the hyperbola, the other the parabola.They gave each other reasons bristling withx. Their arguments were couched in languagewhich made Michel jump. The discussion washot, and neither would give up his chosencurve to his adversary.

This scientific dispute lasted so long that itmade Michel very impatient.

“Now, gentlemen cosines, will you ceaseto throw parabolas and hyperbolas at each


other’s heads? I want to understand the onlyinteresting question in the whole affair. Weshall follow one or the other of these curves?Good. But where will they lead us to?”

“Nowhere,” replied Nicholl.“How, nowhere?”“Evidently,” said Barbicane, “they are open

curves, which may be prolonged indefinitely.”“Ah, savants!” cried Michel; “and what are

either the one or the other to us from the mo-ment we know that they equally lead us intoinfinite space?”

Barbicane and Nicholl could not forbearsmiling. They had just been creating “artfor art’s sake.” Never had so idle a questionbeen raised at such an inopportune moment.The sinister truth remained that, whether hy-perbolically or parabolically borne away, theprojectile would never again meet either theearth or the moon.

What would become of these bold travel-ers in the immediate future? If they did notdie of hunger, if they did not die of thirst, insome days, when the gas failed, they woulddie from want of air, unless the cold had killedthem first. Still, important as it was to econ-omize the gas, the excessive lowness of thesurrounding temperature obliged them to con-sume a certain quantity. Strictly speaking,they could do without its light, but not with-out its heat. Fortunately the caloric generatedby Reiset’s and Regnaut’s apparatus raisedthe temperature of the interior of the projec-tile a little, and without much expenditurethey were able to keep it bearable.

372 Round the Moon

But observations had now become very dif-ficult. the dampness of the projectile was con-densed on the windows and congealed imme-diately. This cloudiness had to be dispersedcontinually. In any case they might hope to beable to discover some phenomena of the high-est interest.

But up to this time the disc remaineddumb and dark. It did not answer the mul-tiplicity of questions put by these ardentminds; a matter which drew this reflectionfrom Michel, apparently a just one:

“If ever we begin this journey over again,we shall do well to choose the time when themoon is at the full.”

“Certainly,” said Nicholl, “that circum-stance will be more favorable. I allow thatthe moon, immersed in the sun’s rays, willnot be visible during the transit, but insteadwe should see the earth, which would be full.And what is more, if we were drawn roundthe moon, as at this moment, we should atleast have the advantage of seeing the invisi-ble part of her disc magnificently lit.”

“Well said, Nicholl,” replied Michel Ardan.“What do you think, Barbicane?”

“I think this,” answered the grave presi-dent: “If ever we begin this journey again, weshall start at the same time and under thesame conditions. Suppose we had attainedour end, would it not have been better tohave found continents in broad daylight thana country plunged in utter darkness? Wouldnot our first installation have been made un-der better circumstances? Yes, evidently. As


to the invisible side, we could have visited it inour exploring expeditions on the lunar globe.So that the time of the full moon was well cho-sen. But we ought to have arrived at the end;and in order to have so arrived, we ought tohave suffered no deviation on the road.”

“I have nothing to say to that,” answeredMichel Ardan. “Here is, however, a good op-portunity lost of observing the other side ofthe moon.”

But the projectile was now describing inthe shadow that incalculable course which nosight-mark would allow them to ascertain.Had its direction been altered, either by theinfluence of the lunar attraction, or by the ac-tion of some unknown star? Barbicane couldnot say. But a change had taken place in therelative position of the vehicle; and Barbicaneverified it about four in the morning.

The change consisted in this, that the baseof the projectile had turned toward the moon’ssurface, and was so held by a perpendicularpassing through its axis. The attraction, thatis to say the weight, had brought about thisalteration. The heaviest part of the projectileinclined toward the invisible disc as if it wouldfall upon it.

Was it falling? Were the travelers attain-ing that much desired end? No. And theobservation of a sign-point, quite inexplica-ble in itself, showed Barbicane that his pro-jectile was not nearing the moon, and that ithad shifted by following an almost concentriccurve.

This point of mark was a luminous bright-

374 Round the Moon

ness, which Nicholl sighted suddenly, on thelimit of the horizon formed by the black disc.This point could not be confounded with astar. It was a reddish incandescence whichincreased by degrees, a decided proof thatthe projectile was shifting toward it and notfalling normally on the surface of the moon.

“A volcano! it is a volcano in action!” criedNicholl; “a disemboweling of the interior firesof the moon! That world is not quite extin-guished.”

“Yes, an eruption,” replied Barbicane,who was carefully studying the phenomenonthrough his night glass. “What should it be, ifnot a volcano?”

“But, then,” said Michel Ardan, “in order tomaintain that combustion, there must be air.So the atmosphere does surround that part ofthe moon.”

“Perhaps so,” replied Barbicane, “but notnecessarily. The volcano, by the decomposi-tion of certain substances, can provide its ownoxygen, and thus throw flames into space. Itseems to me that the deflagration, by the in-tense brilliancy of the substances in combus-tion, is produced in pure oxygen. We must notbe in a hurry to proclaim the existence of alunar atmosphere.”

The fiery mountain must have been situ-ated about the 45◦ south latitude on the in-visible part of the disc; but, to Barbicane’sgreat displeasure, the curve which the pro-jectile was describing was taking it far fromthe point indicated by the eruption. Thus hecould not determine its nature exactly. Half


an hour after being sighted, this luminouspoint had disappeared behind the dark hori-zon; but the verification of this phenomenonwas of considerable consequence in their se-lenographic studies. It proved that all heathad not yet disappeared from the bowels ofthis globe; and where heat exists, who canaffirm that the vegetable kingdom, nay, eventhe animal kingdom itself, has not up to thistime resisted all destructive influences? Theexistence of this volcano in eruption, unmis-takably seen by these earthly savants, woulddoubtless give rise to many theories favorableto the grave question of the habitability of themoon.

Barbicane allowed himself to be carriedaway by these reflections. He forgot himselfin a deep reverie in which the mysterious des-tiny of the lunar world was uppermost. Hewas seeking to combine together the facts ob-served up to that time, when a new incidentrecalled him briskly to reality. This incidentwas more than a cosmical phenomenon; itwas a threatened danger, the consequence ofwhich might be disastrous in the extreme.

Suddenly, in the midst of the ether, inthe profound darkness, an enormous mass ap-peared. It was like a moon, but an incandes-cent moon whose brilliancy was all the moreintolerable as it cut sharply on the frightfuldarkness of space. This mass, of a circularform, threw a light which filled the projectile.The forms of Barbicane, Nicholl, and MichelArdan, bathed in its white sheets, assumedthat livid spectral appearance which physi-

376 Round the Moon

cians produce with the fictitious light of alco-hol impregnated with salt.

“By Jove!” cried Michel Ardan, “we arehideous. What is that ill-conditioned moon?”

“A meteor,” replied Barbicane.“A meteor burning in space?”“Yes.”This shooting globe suddenly appearing in

shadow at a distance of at most 200 miles,ought, according to Barbicane, to have a di-ameter of 2,000 yards. It advanced at a speedof about one mile and a half per second. Itcut the projectile’s path and must reach it insome minutes. As it approached it grew toenormous proportions.

Imagine, if possible, the situation of thetravelers! It is impossible to describe it. Inspite of their courage, their sang-froid, theircarelessness of danger, they were mute, mo-tionless with stiffened limbs, a prey to fright-ful terror. Their projectile, the course of whichthey could not alter, was rushing straight onthis ignited mass, more intense than the openmouth of an oven. It seemed as though theywere being precipitated toward an abyss offire.

Barbicane had seized the hands of histwo companions, and all three looked throughtheir half-open eyelids upon that asteroidheated to a white heat. If thought was notdestroyed within them, if their brains stillworked amid all this awe, they must havegiven themselves up for lost.

Two minutes after the sudden appearanceof the meteor (to them two centuries of an-


guish) the projectile seemed almost about tostrike it, when the globe of fire burst like abomb, but without making any noise in thatvoid where sound, which is but the agitationof the layers of air, could not be generated.

Nicholl uttered a cry, and he and his com-panions rushed to the scuttle. What a sight!What pen can describe it? What palette is richenough in colors to reproduce so magnificent aspectacle?

It was like the opening of a crater, like thescattering of an immense conflagration. Thou-sands of luminous fragments lit up and irra-diated space with their fires. Every size, ev-ery color, was there intermingled. There wererays of yellow and pale yellow, red, green,gray—a crown of fireworks of all colors. Ofthe enormous and much-dreaded globe thereremained nothing but these fragments car-ried in all directions, now become asteroids intheir turn, some flaming like a sword, somesurrounded by a whitish cloud, and othersleaving behind them trains of brilliant cosmi-cal dust.

These incandescent blocks crossed andstruck each other, scattering still smaller frag-ments, some of which struck the projectile.Its left scuttle was even cracked by a violentshock. It seemed to be floating amid a hail ofhowitzer shells, the smallest of which mightdestroy it instantly.

The light which saturated the ether wasso wonderfully intense, that Michel, draw-ing Barbicane and Nicholl to his window, ex-claimed, “The invisible moon, visible at last!”

378 Round the Moon

And through a luminous emanation, whichlasted some seconds, the whole three caughta glimpse of that mysterious disc which theeye of man now saw for the first time. Whatcould they distinguish at a distance whichthey could not estimate? Some lengthenedbands along the disc, real clouds formed inthe midst of a very confined atmosphere, fromwhich emerged not only all the mountains,but also projections of less importance; itscircles, its yawning craters, as capriciouslyplaced as on the visible surface. Then im-mense spaces, no longer arid plains, but realseas, oceans, widely distributed, reflecting ontheir liquid surface all the dazzling magic ofthe fires of space; and, lastly, on the surfaceof the continents, large dark masses, lookinglike immense forests under the rapid illumi-nation of a brilliance.

Was it an illusion, a mistake, an opticalillusion? Could they give a scientific assentto an observation so superficially obtained?Dared they pronounce upon the question of itshabitability after so slight a glimpse of the in-visible disc?

But the lightnings in space subsided by de-grees; its accidental brilliancy died away; theasteroids dispersed in different directions andwere extinguished in the distance.

The ether returned to its accustomed dark-ness; the stars, eclipsed for a moment, againtwinkled in the firmament, and the disc, sohastily discerned, was again buried in impen-etrable night.

THE SOUTHERNHEMISPHERE

The projectile had just escaped a terrible dan-ger, and a very unforseen one. Who wouldhave thought of such an encounter with me-teors? These erring bodies might create se-rious perils for the travelers. They were tothem so many sandbanks upon that sea ofether which, less fortunate than sailors, theycould not escape. But did these adventur-ers complain of space? No, not since naturehad given them the splendid sight of a cosmi-cal meteor bursting from expansion, since thisinimitable firework, which no Ruggieri couldimitate, had lit up for some seconds the invis-ible glory of the moon. In that flash, conti-nents, seas, and forests had become visible tothem. Did an atmosphere, then, bring to thisunknown face its life-giving atoms? Questionsstill insoluble, and forever closed against hu-man curiousity!

It was then half-past three in the after-noon. The projectile was following its curvi-linear direction round the moon. Had itscourse again been altered by the meteor? It

379

380 Round the Moon

was to be feared so. But the projectile mustdescribe a curve unalterably determined bythe laws of mechanical reasoning. Barbi-cane was inclined to believe that this curvewould be rather a parabola than a hyper-bola. But admitting the parabola, the pro-jectile must quickly have passed through thecone of shadow projected into space oppositethe sun. This cone, indeed, is very narrow,the angular diameter of the moon being so lit-tle when compared with the diameter of theorb of day; and up to this time the projec-tile had been floating in this deep shadow.Whatever had been its speed (and it could nothave been insignificant), its period of occulta-tion continued. That was evident, but perhapsthat would not have been the case in a sup-posedly rigidly parabolical trajectory—a newproblem which tormented Barbicane’s brain,imprisoned as he was in a circle of unknownswhich he could not unravel.

Neither of the travelers thought of takingan instant’s repose. Each one watched for anunexpected fact, which might throw some newlight on their uranographic studies. Aboutfive o’clock, Michel Ardan distributed, un-der the name of dinner, some pieces of breadand cold meat, which were quickly swallowedwithout either of them abandoning their scut-tle, the glass of which was incessantly en-crusted by the condensation of vapor.

About forty-five minutes past five in theevening, Nicholl, armed with his glass,sighted toward the southern border of themoon, and in the direction followed by the pro-

The Southern Hemisphere 381

jectile, some bright points cut upon the darkshield of the sky. They looked like a successionof sharp points lengthened into a tremulousline. They were very bright. Such appearedthe terminal line of the moon when in one ofher octants.

They could not be mistaken. It was nolonger a simple meteor. This luminous ridgehad neither color nor motion. Nor was it avolcano in eruption. And Barbicane did nothesitate to pronounce upon it.

“The sun!” he exclaimed.“What! the sun?” answered Nicholl and

Michel Ardan.“Yes, my friends, it is the radiant orb itself

lighting up the summit of the mountains situ-ated on the southern borders of the moon. Weare evidently nearing the south pole.”

“After having passed the north pole,”replied Michel. “We have made the circuit ofour satellite, then?”

“Yes, my good Michel.”“Then, no more hyperbolas, no more

parabolas, no more open curves to fear?”“No, but a closed curve.”“Which is called—”“An ellipse. Instead of losing itself in inter-

planetary space, it is probable that the projec-tile will describe an elliptical orbit around themoon.”

“Indeed!”“And that it will become her satellite.”“Moon of the moon!” cried Michel Ardan.“Only, I would have you observe, my wor-

thy friend,” replied Barbicane, “that we are

382 Round the Moon

none the less lost for that.”“Yes, in another manner, and much more

pleasantly,” answered the careless French-man with his most amiable smile.

TYCHO

At six in the evening the projectile passed thesouth pole at less than forty miles off, a dis-tance equal to that already reached at thenorth pole. The elliptical curve was beingrigidly carried out.

At this moment the travelers once moreentered the blessed rays of the sun. They sawonce more those stars which move slowly fromeast to west. The radiant orb was saluted by atriple hurrah. With its light it also sent heat,which soon pierced the metal walls. The glassresumed its accustomed appearance. The lay-ers of ice melted as if by enchantment; andimmediately, for economy’s sake, the gas wasput out, the air apparatus alone consuming itsusual quantity.

“Ah!” said Nicholl, “these rays of heat aregood. With what impatience must the Selen-ites wait the reappearance of the orb of day.”

“Yes,” replied Michel Ardan, “imbibing asit were the brilliant ether, light and heat, alllife is contained in them.”

At this moment the bottom of the projectiledeviated somewhat from the lunar surface, inorder to follow the slightly lengthened ellip-

383

384 Round the Moon

tical orbit. From this point, had the earthbeen at the full, Barbicane and his compan-ions could have seen it, but immersed in thesun’s irradiation she was quite invisible. An-other spectacle attracted their attention, thatof the southern part of the moon, brought bythe glasses to within 450 yards. They did notagain leave the scuttles, and noted every de-tail of this fantastical continent.

Mounts Doerful and Leibnitz formed twoseparate groups very near the south pole.The first group extended from the pole to theeighty-fourth parallel, on the eastern part ofthe orb; the second occupied the eastern bor-der, extending from the 65◦ of latitude to thepole.

On their capriciously formed ridge ap-peared dazzling sheets, as mentioned by PereSecchi. With more certainty than the illus-trious Roman astronomer, Barbicane was en-abled to recognize their nature.

“They are snow,” he exclaimed.“Snow?” repeated Nicholl.“Yes, Nicholl, snow; the surface of which is

deeply frozen. See how they reflect the lumi-nous rays. Cooled lava would never give outsuch intense reflection. There must then bewater, there must be air on the moon. As lit-tle as you please, but the fact can no longerbe contested.” No, it could not be. And ifever Barbicane should see the earth again, hisnotes will bear witness to this great fact in hisselenographic observations.

These mountains of Doerful and Leibnitzrose in the midst of plains of a medium extent,

Tycho 385

which were bounded by an indefinite succes-sion of circles and annular ramparts. Thesetwo chains are the only ones met with in thisregion of circles. Comparatively but slightlymarked, they throw up here and there somesharp points, the highest summit of which at-tains an altitude of 24,600 feet.

But the projectile was high above all thislandscape, and the projections disappeared inthe intense brilliancy of the disc. And to theeyes of the travelers there reappeared thatoriginal aspect of the lunar landscapes, raw intone, without gradation of colors, and withoutdegrees of shadow, roughly black and white,from the want of diffusion of light.

But the sight of this desolate world did notfail to captivate them by its very strangeness.They were moving over this region as if theyhad been borne on the breath of some storm,watching heights defile under their feet, pierc-ing the cavities with their eyes, going downinto the rifts, climbing the ramparts, sound-ing these mysterious holes, and leveling allcracks. But no trace of vegetation, no ap-pearance of cities; nothing but stratification,beds of lava, overflowings polished like im-mense mirrors, reflecting the sun’s rays withoverpowering brilliancy. Nothing belonging toa living world—everything to a dead world,where avalanches, rolling from the summits ofthe mountains, would disperse noiselessly atthe bottom of the abyss, retaining the motion,but wanting the sound. In any case it wasthe image of death, without its being possibleeven to say that life had ever existed there.

386 Round the Moon

Michel Ardan, however, thought he recog-nized a heap of ruins, to which he drew Bar-bicane’s attention. It was about the 80th par-allel, in 30◦ longitude. This heap of stones,rather regularly placed, represented a vastfortress, overlooking a long rift, which in for-mer days had served as a bed to the riversof prehistorical times. Not far from that,rose to a height of 17,400 feet the annularmountain of Short, equal to the Asiatic Cau-casus. Michel Ardan, with his accustomed ar-dor, maintained “the evidences” of his fortress.Beneath it he discerned the dismantled ram-parts of a town; here the still intact archof a portico, there two or three columns ly-ing under their base; farther on, a succes-sion of arches which must have supportedthe conduit of an aqueduct; in another partthe sunken pillars of a gigantic bridge, runinto the thickest parts of the rift. He distin-guished all this, but with so much imagina-tion in his glance, and through glasses so fan-tastical, that we must mistrust his observa-tion. But who could affirm, who would dare tosay, that the amiable fellow did not really seethat which his two companions would not see?

Moments were too precious to be sacrificedin idle discussion. The selenite city, whetherimaginary or not, had already disappearedafar off. The distance of the projectile from thelunar disc was on the increase, and the detailsof the soil were being lost in a confused jum-ble. The reliefs, the circles, the craters, andthe plains alone remained, and still showedtheir boundary lines distinctly. At this mo-

Tycho 387

ment, to the left, lay extended one of the finestcircles of lunar orography, one of the curiosi-ties of this continent. It was Newton, whichBarbicane recognized without trouble, by re-ferring to the Mappa Selenographica.

Newton is situated in exactly 77◦ south lat-itude, and 16◦ east longitude. It forms an an-nular crater, the ramparts of which, rising toa height of 21,300 feet, seemed to be impass-able.

Barbicane made his companions observethat the height of this mountain above thesurrounding plain was far from equaling thedepth of its crater. This enormous hole was be-yond all measurement, and formed a gloomyabyss, the bottom of which the sun’s rayscould never reach. There, according to Hum-boldt, reigns utter darkness, which the light ofthe sun and the earth cannot break. Mythol-ogists could well have made it the mouth ofhell.

“Newton,” said Barbicane, “is the most per-fect type of these annular mountains, of whichthe earth possesses no sample. They provethat the moon’s formation, by means of cool-ing, is due to violent causes; for while, underthe pressure of internal fires the reliefs rise toconsiderable height, the depths withdraw farbelow the lunar level.”

“I do not dispute the fact,” replied MichelArdan.

Some minutes after passing Newton, theprojectile directly overlooked the annularmountains of Moret. It skirted at some dis-tance the summits of Blancanus, and at about

388 Round the Moon

half-past seven in the evening reached the cir-cle of Clavius.

This circle, one of the most remarkable ofthe disc, is situated in 58◦ south latitude, and15◦ east longitude. Its height is estimatedat 22,950 feet. The travelers, at a distanceof twenty-four miles (reduced to four by theirglasses) could admire this vast crater in itsentirety.

“Terrestrial volcanoes,” said Barbicane,“are but mole-hills compared with those ofthe moon. Measuring the old craters formedby the first eruptions of Vesuvius and Etna,we find them little more than three miles inbreadth. In France the circle of Cantal mea-sures six miles across; at Ceyland the circleof the island is forty miles, which is consid-ered the largest on the globe. What are thesediameters against that of Clavius, which weoverlook at this moment?”

“What is its breadth?” asked Nicholl.“It is 150 miles,” replied Barbicane. “This

circle is certainly the most important on themoon, but many others measure 150, 100, or75 miles.”

“Ah! my friends,” exclaimed Michel, “canyou picture to yourselves what this now peace-ful orb of night must have been when itscraters, filled with thunderings, vomited atthe same time smoke and tongues of flame.What a wonderful spectacle then, and nowwhat decay! This moon is nothing more than athin carcase of fireworks, whose squibs, rock-ets, serpents, and suns, after a superb bril-liancy, have left but sadly broken cases. Who

Tycho 389

can say the cause, the reason, the motive forceof these cataclysms?”

Barbicane was not listening to Michel Ar-dan; he was contemplating these ramparts ofClavius, formed by large mountains spreadover several miles. At the bottom of the im-mense cavity burrowed hundreds of small ex-tinguished craters, riddling the soil like acolander, and overlooked by a peak 15,000 feethigh.

Around the plain appeared desolate. Noth-ing so arid as these reliefs, nothing so sad asthese ruins of mountains, and (if we may soexpress ourselves) these fragments of peaksand mountains which strewed the soil. Thesatellite seemed to have burst at this spot.

The projectile was still advancing, and thismovement did not subside. Circles, craters,and uprooted mountains succeeded each otherincessantly. No more plains; no more seas. Anever ending Switzerland and Norway. Andlastly, in the canter of this region of crevasses,the most splendid mountain on the lunar disc,the dazzling Tycho, in which posterity willever preserve the name of the illustrious Dan-ish astronomer.

In observing the full moon in a cloudlesssky no one has failed to remark this brilliantpoint of the southern hemisphere. Michel Ar-dan used every metaphor that his imaginationcould supply to designate it by. To him thisTycho was a focus of light, a center of irradi-ation, a crater vomiting rays. It was the tireof a brilliant wheel, an asteria enclosing thedisc with its silver tentacles, an enormous eye

390 Round the Moon

filled with flames, a glory carved for Pluto’shead, a star launched by the Creator’s hand,and crushed against the face of the moon!

Tycho forms such a concentration of lightthat the inhabitants of the earth can seeit without glasses, though at a distance of240,000 miles! Imagine, then, its intensityto the eye of observers placed at a distance ofonly fifty miles! Seen through this pure ether,its brilliancy was so intolerable that Barbi-cane and his friends were obliged to blackentheir glasses with the gas smoke before theycould bear the splendor. Then silent, scarcelyuttering an interjection of admiration, theygazed, they contemplated. All their feelings,all their impressions, were concentrated inthat look, as under any violent emotion all lifeis concentrated at the heart.

Tycho belongs to the system of radiatingmountains, like Aristarchus and Copernicus;but it is of all the most complete and decided,showing unquestionably the frightful volcanicaction to which the formation of the moon isdue. Tycho is situated in 43◦ south latitude,and 12◦ east longitude. Its center is occu-pied by a crater fifty miles broad. It assumesa slightly elliptical form, and is surroundedby an enclosure of annular ramparts, whichon the east and west overlook the outer plainfrom a height of 15,000 feet. It is a group ofMont Blancs, placed round one common cen-ter and crowned by radiating beams.

What this incomparable mountain reallyis, with all the projections converging towardit, and the interior excrescences of its crater,

Tycho 391

photography itself could never represent. In-deed, it is during the full moon that Tycho isseen in all its splendor. Then all shadows dis-appear, the foreshortening of perspective dis-appears, and all proofs become white—a dis-agreeable fact: for this strange region wouldhave been marvelous if reproduced with pho-tographic exactness. It is but a group ofhollows, craters, circles, a network of crests;then, as far as the eye could see, a wholevolcanic network cast upon this encrustedsoil. One can then understand that the bub-bles of this central eruption have kept theirfirst form. Crystallized by cooling, they havestereotyped that aspect which the moon for-merly presented when under the Plutonianforces.

The distance which separated the travel-ers from the annular summits of Tycho wasnot so great but that they could catch the prin-cipal details. Even on the causeway form-ing the fortifications of Tycho, the mountainshanging on to the interior and exterior slopingflanks rose in stories like gigantic terraces.They appeared to be higher by 300 or 400 feetto the west than to the east. No system of ter-restrial encampment could equal these natu-ral fortifications. A town built at the bottomof this circular cavity would have been utterlyinaccessible.

Inaccessible and wonderfully extendedover this soil covered with picturesque projec-tions! Indeed, nature had not left the bottomof this crater flat and empty. It possessed itsown peculiar orography, a mountainous sys-

392 Round the Moon

tem, making it a world in itself. The trav-elers could distinguish clearly cones, centralhills, remarkable positions of the soil, natu-rally placed to receive the chefs-d’oeuvre of Se-lenite architecture. There was marked out theplace for a temple, here the ground of a forum,on this spot the plan of a palace, in anotherthe plateau for a citadel; the whole overlookedby a central mountain of 1,500 feet. A vastcircle, in which ancient Rome could have beenheld in its entirety ten times over.

“Ah!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, enthusias-tic at the sight; “what a grand town might beconstructed within that ring of mountains! Aquiet city, a peaceful refuge, beyond all humanmisery. How calm and isolated those misan-thropes, those haters of humanity might livethere, and all who have a distaste for sociallife!”

“All! It would be too small for them,”replied Barbicane simply.

GRAVEQUESTIONS

But the projectile had passed the enceinte ofTycho, and Barbicane and his two compan-ions watched with scrupulous attention thebrilliant rays which the celebrated mountainshed so curiously over the horizon.

What was this radiant glory? What geolog-ical phenomenon had designed these ardentbeams? This question occupied Barbicane’smind.

Under his eyes ran in all directions lumi-nous furrows, raised at the edges and con-cave in the center, some twelve miles, othersthirty miles broad. These brilliant trains ex-tended in some places to within 600 miles ofTycho, and seemed to cover, particularly to-ward the east, the northeast and the north,the half of the southern hemisphere. One ofthese jets extended as far as the circle of Ne-ander, situated on the 40th meridian. An-other, by a slight curve, furrowed the “Sea ofNectar,” breaking against the chain of Pyre-nees, after a circuit of 800 miles. Others, to-ward the west, covered the “Sea of Clouds”

393

394 Round the Moon

and the “Sea of Humors” with a luminous net-work. What was the origin of these sparklingrays, which shone on the plains as well as onthe reliefs, at whatever height they might be?All started from a common center, the craterof Tycho. They sprang from him. Herschelattributed their brilliancy to currents of lavacongealed by the cold; an opinion, however,which has not been generally adopted. Otherastronomers have seen in these inexplicablerays a kind of moraines, rows of erratic blocks,which had been thrown up at the period of Ty-cho’s formation.

“And why not?” asked Nicholl of Barbicane,who was relating and rejecting these differentopinions.

“Because the regularity of these luminouslines, and the violence necessary to carry vol-canic matter to such distances, is inexplica-ble.”

“Eh! by Jove!” replied Michel Ardan, “itseems easy enough to me to explain the ori-gin of these rays.”

“Indeed?” said Barbicane.“Indeed,” continued Michel. “It is enough

to say that it is a vast star, similar to that pro-duced by a ball or a stone thrown at a squareof glass!”

“Well!” replied Barbicane, smiling. “Andwhat hand would be powerful enough to throwa ball to give such a shock as that?”

“The hand is not necessary,” answeredNicholl, not at all confounded; “and as to thestone, let us suppose it to be a comet.”

“Ah! those much-abused comets!” ex-

Grave Questions 395

claimed Barbicane. “My brave Michel, yourexplanation is not bad; but your comet is use-less. The shock which produced that rentmust have some from the inside of the star.A violent contraction of the lunar crust, whilecooling, might suffice to imprint this giganticstar.”

“A contraction! something like a lunarstomach-ache.” said Michel Ardan.

“Besides,” added Barbicane, “this opinionis that of an English savant, Nasmyth, and itseems to me to sufficiently explain the radia-tion of these mountains.”

“That Nasmyth was no fool!” repliedMichel.

Long did the travelers, whom such a sightcould never weary, admire the splendors ofTycho. Their projectile, saturated with lumi-nous gleams in the double irradiation of sunand moon, must have appeared like an incan-descent globe. They had passed suddenly fromexcessive cold to intense heat. Nature wasthus preparing them to become Selenites. Be-come Selenites! That idea brought up oncemore the question of the habitability of themoon. After what they had seen, could thetravelers solve it? Would they decide for oragainst it? Michel Ardan persuaded his twofriends to form an opinion, and asked themdirectly if they thought that men and animalswere represented in the lunar world.

“I think that we can answer,” said Barbi-cane; “but according to my idea the questionought not to be put in that form. I ask it to beput differently.”

396 Round the Moon

“Put it your own way,” replied Michel.“Here it is,” continued Barbicane. “The

problem is a double one, and requires a dou-ble solution. Is the moon habitable? Has themoon ever been inhabitable?”

“Good!” replied Nicholl. “First let us seewhether the moon is habitable.”

“To tell the truth, I know nothing about it,”answered Michel.

“And I answer in the negative,” continuedBarbicane. “In her actual state, with her sur-rounding atmosphere certainly very much re-duced, her seas for the most part dried up, herinsufficient supply of water restricted, vegeta-tion, sudden alternations of cold and heat, herdays and nights of 354 hours—the moon doesnot seem habitable to me, nor does she seempropitious to animal development, nor suffi-cient for the wants of existence as we under-stand it.”

“Agreed,” replied Nicholl. “But is not themoon habitable for creatures differently orga-nized from ourselves?”

“That question is more difficult to answer,but I will try; and I ask Nicholl if motion ap-pears to him to be a necessary result of life,whatever be its organization?”

“Without a doubt!” answered Nicholl.“Then, my worthy companion, I would an-

swer that we have observed the lunar conti-nent at a distance of 500 yards at most, andthat nothing seemed to us to move on themoon’s surface. The presence of any kind oflife would have been betrayed by its attendantmarks, such as divers buildings, and even by

Grave Questions 397

ruins. And what have we seen? Everywhereand always the geological works of nature,never the work of man. If, then, there existrepresentatives of the animal kingdom on themoon, they must have fled to those unfath-omable cavities which the eye cannot reach;which I cannot admit, for they must have lefttraces of their passage on those plains whichthe atmosphere must cover, however slightlyraised it may be. These traces are nowherevisible. There remains but one hypothesis,that of a living race to which motion, whichis life, is foreign.”

“One might as well say, living creatureswhich do not live,” replied Michel.

“Just so,” said Barbicane, “which for us hasno meaning.”

“Then we may form our opinion?” saidMichel.

“Yes,” replied Nicholl.“Very well,” continued Michel Ardan, “the

Scientific Commission assembled in the pro-jectile of the Gun Club, after having foundedtheir argument on facts recently observed, de-cide unanimously upon the question of thehabitability of the moon—‘No! the moon is nothabitable.”’

This decision was consigned by PresidentBarbicane to his notebook, where the processof the sitting of the 6th of December may beseen.

“Now,” said Nicholl, “let us attack the sec-ond question, an indispensable complement ofthe first. I ask the honorable commission, ifthe moon is not habitable, has she ever been

398 Round the Moon

inhabited, Citizen Barbicane?”“My friends,” replied Barbicane, “I did not

undertake this journey in order to form anopinion on the past habitability of our satel-lite; but I will add that our personal observa-tions only confirm me in this opinion. I be-lieve, indeed I affirm, that the moon has beeninhabited by a human race organized like ourown; that she has produced animals anatomi-cally formed like the terrestrial animals: but Iadd that these races, human and animal, havehad their day, and are now forever extinct!”

“Then,” asked Michel, “the moon must beolder than the earth?”

“No!” said Barbicane decidedly, “but aworld which has grown old quicker, and whoseformation and deformation have been morerapid. Relatively, the organizing force of mat-ter has been much more violent in the interiorof the moon than in the interior of the terres-trial globe. The actual state of this cracked,twisted, and burst disc abundantly provesthis. The moon and the earth were nothingbut gaseous masses originally. These gaseshave passed into a liquid state under differ-ent influences, and the solid masses have beenformed later. But most certainly our spherewas still gaseous or liquid, when the moonwas solidified by cooling, and had become hab-itable.”

“I believe it,” said Nicholl.“Then,” continued Barbicane, “an atmo-

sphere surrounded it, the waters containedwithin this gaseous envelope could not evap-orate. Under the influence of air, water, light,

Grave Questions 399

solar heat, and central heat, vegetation tookpossession of the continents prepared to re-ceive it, and certainly life showed itself aboutthis period, for nature does not expend herselfin vain; and a world so wonderfully formed forhabitation must necessarily be inhabited.”

“But,” said Nicholl, “many phenomena in-herent in our satellite might cramp the expan-sion of the animal and vegetable kingdom. Forexample, its days and nights of 354 hours?”

“At the terrestrial poles they last sixmonths,” said Michel.

“An argument of little value, since thepoles are not inhabited.”

“Let us observe, my friends,” continuedBarbicane, “that if in the actual state of themoon its long nights and long days createddifferences of temperature insupportable toorganization, it was not so at the historicalperiod of time. The atmosphere envelopedthe disc with a fluid mantle; vapor depositeditself in the shape of clouds; this naturalscreen tempered the ardor of the solar rays,and retained the nocturnal radiation. Light,like heat, can diffuse itself in the air; hencean equality between the influences which nolonger exists, now that atmosphere has al-most entirely disappeared. And now I am go-ing to astonish you.”

“Astonish us?” said Michel Ardan.“I firmly believe that at the period when

the moon was inhabited, the nights and daysdid not last 354 hours!”

“And why?” asked Nicholl quickly.“Because most probably then the rotary

400 Round the Moon

motion of the moon upon her axis was notequal to her revolution, an equality whichpresents each part of her disc during fifteendays to the action of the solar rays.”

“Granted,” replied Nicholl, “but whyshould not these two motions have been equal,as they are really so?”

“Because that equality has only been de-termined by terrestrial attraction. And whocan say that this attraction was powerfulenough to alter the motion of the moon at thatperiod when the earth was still fluid?”

“Just so,” replied Nicholl; “and who can saythat the moon has always been a satellite ofthe earth?”

“And who can say,” exclaimed Michel Ar-dan, “that the moon did not exist before theearth?”

Their imaginations carried them away intoan indefinite field of hypothesis. Barbicanesought to restrain them.

“Those speculations are too high,” said he;“problems utterly insoluble. Do not let us en-ter upon them. Let us only admit the insuffi-ciency of the primordial attraction; and thenby the inequality of the two motions of rota-tion and revolution, the days and nights couldhave succeeded each other on the moon asthey succeed each other on the earth. Besides,even without these conditions, life was possi-ble.”

“And so,” asked Michel Ardan, “humanityhas disappeared from the moon?”

“Yes,” replied Barbicane, “after havingdoubtless remained persistently for millions

Grave Questions 401

of centuries; by degrees the atmosphere be-coming rarefied, the disc became uninhabit-able, as the terrestrial globe will one day be-come by cooling.”

“By cooling?”“Certainly,” replied Barbicane; “as the in-

ternal fires became extinguished, and the in-candescent matter concentrated itself, the lu-nar crust cooled. By degrees the consequencesof these phenomena showed themselves in thedisappearance of organized beings, and by thedisappearance of vegetation. Soon the atmo-sphere was rarefied, probably withdrawn byterrestrial attraction; then aerial departure ofrespirable air, and disappearance of water bymeans of evaporation. At this period the moonbecoming uninhabitable, was no longer inhab-ited. It was a dead world, such as we see itto-day.”

“And you say that the same fate is in storefor the earth?”

“Most probably.”“But when?”“When the cooling of its crust shall have

made it uninhabitable.”“And have they calculated the time which

our unfortunate sphere will take to cool?”“Certainly.”“And you know these calculations?”“Perfectly.”“But speak, then, my clumsy savant,” ex-

claimed Michel Ardan, “for you make me boilwith impatience!”

“Very well, my good Michel,” replied Bar-bicane quietly; “we know what diminution of

402 Round the Moon

temperature the earth undergoes in the lapseof a century. And according to certain calcu-lations, this mean temperature will after aperiod of 400,000 years, be brought down tozero!”

“Four hundred thousand years!” exclaimedMichel. “Ah! I breathe again. Really I wasfrightened to hear you; I imagined that wehad not more than 50,000 years to live.”

Barbicane and Nicholl could not helplaughing at their companion’s uneasiness.Then Nicholl, who wished to end the discus-sion, put the second question, which had justbeen considered again.

“Has the moon been inhabited?” he asked.The answer was unanimously in the affir-

mative. But during this discussion, fruitful insomewhat hazardous theories, the projectilewas rapidly leaving the moon: the lineamentsfaded away from the travelers’ eyes, moun-tains were confused in the distance; and of allthe wonderful, strange, and fantastical formof the earth’s satellite, there soon remainednothing but the imperishable remembrance.

A STRUGGLEAGAINST THEIMPOSSIBLE

For a long time Barbicane and his compan-ions looked silently and sadly upon that worldwhich they had only seen from a distance, asMoses saw the land of Canaan, and whichthey were leaving without a possibility of everreturning to it. The projectile’s position withregard to the moon had altered, and the basewas now turned to the earth.

This change, which Barbicane verified, didnot fail to surprise them. If the projectile wasto gravitate round the satellite in an ellipticalorbit, why was not its heaviest part turned to-ward it, as the moon turns hers to the earth?That was a difficult point.

In watching the course of the projectilethey could see that on leaving the moon it fol-lowed a course analogous to that traced in ap-proaching her. It was describing a very longellipse, which would most likely extend to thepoint of equal attraction, where the influencesof the earth and its satellite are neutralized.

403

404 Round the Moon

Such was the conclusion which Barbicanevery justly drew from facts already observed,a conviction which his two friends shared withhim.

“And when arrived at this dead point, whatwill become of us?” asked Michel Ardan.

“We don’t know,” replied Barbicane.“But one can draw some hypotheses, I sup-

pose?”“Two,” answered Barbicane; “either the

projectile’s speed will be insufficient, and itwill remain forever immovable on this line ofdouble attraction—”

“I prefer the other hypothesis, whatever itmay be,” interrupted Michel.

“Or,” continued Barbicane, “its speed willbe sufficient, and it will continue its ellipticalcourse, to gravitate forever around the orb ofnight.”

“A revolution not at all consoling,” saidMichel, “to pass to the state of humble ser-vants to a moon whom we are accustomed tolook upon as our own handmaid. So that isthe fate in store for us?”

Neither Barbicane nor Nicholl answered.“You do not answer,” continued Michel im-

patiently.“There is nothing to answer,” said Nicholl.“Is there nothing to try?”“No,” answered Barbicane. “Do you pre-

tend to fight against the impossible?”“Why not? Do one Frenchman and two

Americans shrink from such a word?”“But what would you do?”


“Subdue this motion which is bearing usaway.”

“Subdue it?”“Yes,” continued Michel, getting animated,

“or else alter it, and employ it to the accom-plishment of our own ends.”

“And how?”“That is your affair. If artillerymen are

not masters of their projectile they are not ar-tillerymen. If the projectile is to command thegunner, we had better ram the gunner into thegun. My faith! fine savants! who do not knowwhat is to become of us after inducing me—”

“Inducing you!” cried Barbicane and Nich-oll. “Inducing you! What do you mean bythat?”

“No recrimination,” said Michel. “I do notcomplain, the trip has pleased me, and theprojectile agrees with me; but let us do all thatis humanly possible to do the fall somewhere,even if only on the moon.”

“We ask no better, my worthy Michel,”replied Barbicane, “but means fail us.”

“We cannot alter the motion of the projec-tile?”

“No.”“Nor diminish its speed?”“No.”“Not even by lightening it, as they lighten

an overloaded vessel?”“What would you throw out?” said Nicholl.

“We have no ballast on board; and indeed itseems to me that if lightened it would go muchquicker.”

“Slower.”

406 Round the Moon

“Quicker.”“Neither slower nor quicker,” said Barbi-

cane, wishing to make his two friends agree;“for we float is space, and must no longer con-sider specific weight.”

“Very well,” cried Michel Ardan in a de-cided voice; “then their remains but one thingto do.”

“What is it?” asked Nicholl.“Breakfast,” answered the cool, audacious

Frenchman, who always brought up this solu-tion at the most difficult juncture.

In any case, if this operation had no influ-ence on the projectile’s course, it could at leastbe tried without inconvenience, and even withsuccess from a stomachic point of view. Cer-tainly Michel had none but good ideas.

They breakfasted then at two in the morn-ing; the hour mattered little. Michel servedhis usual repast, crowned by a glorious bot-tle drawn from his private cellar. If ideas didnot crowd on their brains, we must despair ofthe Chambertin of 1853. The repast finished,observation began again. Around the projec-tile, at an invariable distance, were the ob-jects which had been thrown out. Evidently,in its translatory motion round the moon, ithad not passed through any atmosphere, forthe specific weight of these different objectswould have checked their relative speed.

On the side of the terrestrial sphere noth-ing was to be seen. The earth was but aday old, having been new the night beforeat twelve; and two days must elapse beforeits crescent, freed from the solar rays, would


serve as a clock to the Selenites, as in its ro-tary movement each of its points after twenty-four hours repasses the same lunar meridian.

On the moon’s side the sight was differ-ent; the orb shone in all her splendor amid in-numerable constellations, whose purity couldnot be troubled by her rays. On the disc, theplains were already returning to the dark tintwhich is seen from the earth. The other partof the nimbus remained brilliant, and in themidst of this general brilliancy Tycho shoneprominently like a sun.

Barbicane had no means of estimating theprojectile’s speed, but reasoning showed thatit must uniformly decrease, according to thelaws of mechanical reasoning. Having admit-ted that the projectile was describing an orbitaround the moon, this orbit must necessarilybe elliptical; science proves that it must beso. No motive body circulating round an at-tracting body fails in this law. Every orbit de-scribed in space is elliptical. And why shouldthe projectile of the Gun Club escape this nat-ural arrangement? In elliptical orbits, the at-tracting body always occupies one of the foci;so that at one moment the satellite is nearer,and at another farther from the orb aroundwhich it gravitates. When the earth is near-est the sun she is in her perihelion; and inher aphelion at the farthest point. Speakingof the moon, she is nearest to the earth in herperigee, and farthest from it in her apogee.To use analogous expressions, with which theastronomers’ language is enriched, if the pro-jectile remains as a satellite of the moon, we

408 Round the Moon

must say that it is in its “aposelene” at its far-thest point, and in its “periselene” at its near-est. In the latter case, the projectile wouldattain its maximum of speed; and in the for-mer its minimum. It was evidently moving to-ward its aposelenitical point; and Barbicanehad reason to think that its speed would de-crease up to this point, and then increase bydegrees as it neared the moon. This speedwould even become nil, if this point joinedthat of equal attraction. Barbicane studiedthe consequences of these different situations,and thinking what inference he could drawfrom them, when he was roughly disturbed bya cry from Michel Ardan.

“By Jove!” he exclaimed, “I must admit weare down-right simpletons!”

“I do not say we are not,” replied Barbi-cane; “but why?”

“Because we have a very simple means ofchecking this speed which is bearing us fromthe moon, and we do not use it!”

“And what is the means?”“To use the recoil contained in our rockets.”“Done!” said Nicholl.“We have not used this force yet,” said Bar-

bicane, “it is true, but we will do so.”“When?” asked Michel.“When the time comes. Observe, my

friends, that in the position occupied by theprojectile, an oblique position with regard tothe lunar disc, our rockets, in slightly alter-ing its direction, might turn it from the mooninstead of drawing it nearer?”

“Just so,” replied Michel.


“Let us wait, then. By some inexplicableinfluence, the projectile is turning its base to-ward the earth. It is probable that at the pointof equal attraction, its conical cap will be di-rected rigidly toward the moon; at that mo-ment we may hope that its speed will be nil;then will be the moment to act, and with theinfluence of our rockets we may perhaps pro-voke a fall directly on the surface of the lunardisc.”

“Bravo!” said Michel. “What we did notdo, what we could not do on our first passageat the dead point, because the projectile wasthen endowed with too great a speed.”

“Very well reasoned,” said Nicholl.“Let us wait patiently,” continued Barbi-

cane. “Putting every chance on our side, andafter having so much despaired, I may say Ithink we shall gain our end.”

This conclusion was a signal for Michel Ar-dan’s hips and hurrahs. And none of the auda-cious boobies remembered the question thatthey themselves had solved in the negative.No! the moon is not inhabited; no! the moonis probably not habitable. And yet they weregoing to try everything to reach her.

One single question remained to be solved.At what precise moment the projectile wouldreach the point of equal attraction, on whichthe travelers must play their last card. Inorder to calculate this to within a few sec-onds, Barbicane had only to refer to his notes,and to reckon the different heights taken onthe lunar parallels. Thus the time necessaryto travel over the distance between the dead

410 Round the Moon

point and the south pole would be equal tothe distance separating the north pole fromthe dead point. The hours representing thetime traveled over were carefully noted, andthe calculation was easy. Barbicane foundthat this point would be reached at one in themorning on the night of the 7th-8th of De-cember. So that, if nothing interfered withits course, it would reach the given point intwenty-two hours.

The rockets had primarily been placed tocheck the fall of the projectile upon the moon,and now they were going to employ them fora directly contrary purpose. In any case theywere ready, and they had only to wait for themoment to set fire to them.

“Since there is nothing else to be done,”said Nicholl, “I make a proposition.”

“What is it?” asked Barbicane.“I propose to go to sleep.”“What a motion!” exclaimed Michel Ardan.“It is forty hours since we closed our eyes,”

said Nicholl. “Some hours of sleep will restoreour strength.”

“Never,” interrupted Michel.“Well,” continued Nicholl, “every one to his

taste; I shall go to sleep.” And stretching him-self on the divan, he soon snored like a forty-eight pounder.

“That Nicholl has a good deal of sense,”said Barbicane; “presently I shall follow hisexample.” Some moments after his continuedbass supported the captain’s baritone.

“Certainly,” said Michel Ardan, findinghimself alone, “these practical people have


sometimes most opportune ideas.”And with his long legs stretched out, and

his great arms folded under his head, Michelslept in his turn.

But this sleep could be neither peaceful norlasting, the minds of these three men were toomuch occupied, and some hours after, aboutseven in the morning, all three were on foot atthe same instant.

The projectile was still leaving the moon,and turning its conical part more and moretoward her.

An explicable phenomenon, but one whichhappily served Barbicane’s ends.

Seventeen hours more, and the moment foraction would have arrived.

The day seemed long. However bold thetravelers might be, they were greatly im-pressed by the approach of that momentwhich would decide all—either precipitatetheir fall on to the moon, or forever chainthem in an immutable orbit. They countedthe hours as they passed too slow for theirwish; Barbicane and Nicholl were obstinatelyplunged in their calculations, Michel goingand coming between the narrow walls, andwatching that impassive moon with a longingeye.

At times recollections of the earth crossedtheir minds. They saw once more their friendsof the Gun Club, and the dearest of all, J. T.Maston. At that moment, the honorable sec-retary must be filling his post on the RockyMountains. If he could see the projectilethrough the glass of his gigantic telescope,

412 Round the Moon

what would he think? After seeing it disap-pear behind the moon’s south pole, he wouldsee them reappear by the north pole! Theymust therefore be a satellite of a satellite!Had J. T. Maston given this unexpected newsto the world? Was this the dénouement of thisgreat enterprise?

But the day passed without incident. Theterrestrial midnight arrived. The 8th of De-cember was beginning. One hour more, andthe point of equal attraction would be reached.What speed would then animate the projec-tile? They could not estimate it. But no er-ror could vitiate Barbicane’s calculations. Atone in the morning this speed ought to be andwould be nil.

Besides, another phenomenon would markthe projectile’s stopping-point on the neutralline. At that spot the two attractions, lunarand terrestrial, would be annulled. Objectswould “weigh” no more. This singular fact,which had surprised Barbicane and his com-panions so much in going, would be repeatedon their return under the very same condi-tions. At this precise moment they must act.

Already the projectile’s conical top wassensibly turned toward the lunar disc, pre-sented in such a way as to utilize the wholeof the recoil produced by the pressure of therocket apparatus. The chances were in fa-vor of the travelers. If its speed was utterlyannulled on this dead point, a decided move-ment toward the moon would suffice, howeverslight, to determine its fall.

“Five minutes to one,” said Nicholl.


“All is ready,” replied Michel Ardan, direct-ing a lighted match to the flame of the gas.

“Wait!” said Barbicane, holding hischronometer in his hand.

At that moment weight had no effect. Thetravelers felt in themselves the entire disap-pearance of it. They were very near the neu-tral point, if they did not touch it.

“One o’clock,” said Barbicane.Michel Ardan applied the lighted match to

a train in communication with the rockets. Nodetonation was heard in the inside, for therewas no air. But, through the scuttles, Bar-bicane saw a prolonged smoke, the flames ofwhich were immediately extinguished.

The projectile sustained a certain shock,which was sensibly felt in the interior.

The three friends looked and listened with-out speaking, and scarcely breathing. Onemight have heard the beating of their heartsamid this perfect silence.

“Are we falling?” asked Michel Ardan, atlength.

“No,” said Nicholl, “since the bottom of theprojectile is not turning to the lunar disc!”

At this moment, Barbicane, quitting hisscuttle, turned to his two companions. He wasfrightfully pale, his forehead wrinkled, andhis lips contracted.

“We are falling!” said he.“Ah!” cried Michel Ardan, “on to the

moon?”“On to the earth!”“The devil!” exclaimed Michel Ardan,

adding philosophically, “well, when we came

414 Round the Moon

into this projectile we were very doubtful asto the ease with which we should get out ofit!”

And now this fearful fall had begun. Thespeed retained had borne the projectile be-yond the dead point. The explosion of therockets could not divert its course. This speedin going had carried it over the neutral line,and in returning had done the same thing.The laws of physics condemned it to passthrough every point which it had already gonethrough. It was a terrible fall, from a heightof 160,000 miles, and no springs to break it.According to the laws of gunnery, the projec-tile must strike the earth with a speed equalto that with which it left the mouth of theColumbiad, a speed of 16,000 yards in the lastsecond.

But to give some figures of comparison,it has been reckoned that an object thrownfrom the top of the towers of Notre Dame, theheight of which is only 200 feet, will arrive onthe pavement at a speed of 240 miles per hour.Here the projectile must strike the earth witha speed of 115,200 miles per hour.

“We are lost!” said Michel coolly.“Very well! if we die,” answered Barbi-

cane, with a sort of religious enthusiasm, “theresults of our travels will be magnificentlyspread. It is His own secret that God will tellus! In the other life the soul will want to knownothing, either of machines or engines! It willbe identified with eternal wisdom!”

“In fact,” interrupted Michel Ardan, “thewhole of the other world may well console


us for the loss of that inferior orb called themoon!”

Barbicane crossed his arms on his breast,with a motion of sublime resignation, sayingat the same time:

“The will of heaven be done!”

416 Round the Moon

THE SOUNDINGSOF THESUSQUEHANNA

“Well, lieutenant, and our soundings?”“I think, sir, that the operation is near-

ing its completion,” replied Lieutenant Brons-field. “But who would have thought of findingsuch a depth so near in shore, and only 200miles from the American coast?”

“Certainly, Bronsfield, there is a great de-pression,” said Captain Blomsberry. “In thisspot there is a submarine valley worn byHumboldt’s current, which skirts the coast ofAmerica as far as the Straits of Magellan.”

“These great depths,” continued the lieu-tenant, “are not favorable for laying tele-graphic cables. A level bottom, like that sup-porting the American cable between Valentiaand Newfoundland, is much better.”

“I agree with you, Bronsfield. With yourpermission, lieutenant, where are we now?”

“Sir, at this moment we have 3,508 fath-oms of line out, and the ball which draws thesounding lead has not yet touched the bottom;

417

418 Round the Moon

for if so, it would have come up of itself.”“Brook’s apparatus is very ingenious,” said

Captain Blomsberry; “it gives us very exactsoundings.”

“Touch!” cried at this moment one of themen at the forewheel, who was superintend-ing the operation.

The captain and the lieutenant mountedthe quarterdeck.

“What depth have we?” asked the captain.“Three thousand six hundred and twenty-

seven fathoms,” replied the lieutenant, enter-ing it in his notebook.

“Well, Bronsfield,” said the captain, “I willtake down the result. Now haul in the sound-ing line. It will be the work of some hours. Inthat time the engineer can light the furnaces,and we shall be ready to start as soon as youhave finished. It is ten o’clock, and with yourpermission, lieutenant, I will turn in.”

“Do so, sir; do so!” replied the lieutenantobligingly.

The captain of the Susquehanna, as bravea man as need be, and the humble servantof his officers, returned to his cabin, took abrandy-grog, which earned for the steward noend of praise, and turned in, not without hav-ing complimented his servant upon his mak-ing beds, and slept a peaceful sleep.

It was then ten at night. The eleventh dayof the month of December was drawing to aclose in a magnificent night.

The Susquehanna, a corvette of 500 horse-power, of the United States navy, was occupiedin taking soundings in the Pacific Ocean about


200 miles off the American coast, followingthat long peninsula which stretches down thecoast of Mexico.

The wind had dropped by degrees. Therewas no disturbance in the air. The pennanthung motionless from the maintop-gallant-mast truck.

Captain Jonathan Blomsberry (cousin-german of Colonel Blomsberry, one of themost ardent supporters of the Gun Club,who had married an aunt of the captainand daughter of an honorable Kentuckymerchant)—Captain Blomsberry could nothave wished for finer weather in which tobring to a close his delicate operations ofsounding. His corvette had not even felt thegreat tempest, which by sweeping away thegroups of clouds on the Rocky Mountains, hadallowed them to observe the course of the fa-mous projectile.

Everything went well, and with all the fer-vor of a Presbyterian, he did not forget tothank heaven for it. The series of soundingstaken by the Susquehanna, had for its aim thefinding of a favorable spot for the laying of asubmarine cable to connect the Hawaiian Is-lands with the coast of America.

It was a great undertaking, due to the in-stigation of a powerful company. Its managingdirector, the intelligent Cyrus Field, purposedeven covering all the islands of Oceanica witha vast electrical network, an immense enter-prise, and one worthy of American genius.

To the corvette Susquehanna had beenconfided the first operations of sounding. It

420 Round the Moon

was on the night of the 11th-12th of Decem-ber, she was in exactly 27◦ 7’ north latitude,and 41◦ 37’ west longitude, on the meridian ofWashington.

The moon, then in her last quarter, was be-ginning to rise above the horizon.

After the departure of Captain Bloms-berry, the lieutenant and some officers werestanding together on the poop. On the ap-pearance of the moon, their thoughts turnedto that orb which the eyes of a whole hemi-sphere were contemplating. The best navalglasses could not have discovered the projec-tile wandering around its hemisphere, andyet all were pointed toward that brilliant discwhich millions of eyes were looking at at thesame moment.

“They have been gone ten days,” said Lieu-tenant Bronsfield at last. “What has becomeof them?”

“They have arrived, lieutenant,” exclaimeda young midshipman, “and they are doingwhat all travelers do when they arrive in anew country, taking a walk!”

“Oh! I am sure of that, if you tell me so,my young friend,” said Lieutenant Bronsfield,smiling.

“But,” continued another officer, “their ar-rival cannot be doubted. The projectile wasto reach the moon when full on the 5th atmidnight. We are now at the 11th of De-cember, which makes six days. And in sixtimes twenty-four hours, without darkness,one would have time to settle comfortably. Ifancy I see my brave countrymen encamped


at the bottom of some valley, on the bordersof a Selenite stream, near a projectile half-buried by its fall amid volcanic rubbish, Cap-tain Nicholl beginning his leveling operations,President Barbicane writing out his notes,and Michel Ardan embalming the lunar soli-tudes with the perfume of his—”

“Yes! it must be so, it is so!” exclaimed theyoung midshipman, worked up to a pitch ofenthusiasm by this ideal description of his su-perior officer.

“I should like to believe it,” replied the lieu-tenant, who was quite unmoved. “Unfortu-nately direct news from the lunar world is stillwanting.”

“Beg pardon, lieutenant,” said the mid-shipman, “but cannot President Barbicanewrite?”

A burst of laughter greeted this answer.“No letters!” continued the young man

quickly. “The postal administration has some-thing to see to there.”

“Might it not be the telegraphic servicethat is at fault?” asked one of the officers iron-ically.

“Not necessarily,” replied the midshipman,not at all confused. “But it is very easy to setup a graphic communication with the earth.”

“And how?”“By means of the telescope at Long’s Peak.

You know it brings the moon to within fourmiles of the Rocky Mountains, and that itshows objects on its surface of only nine feetin diameter. Very well; let our industriousfriends construct a giant alphabet; let them

422 Round the Moon

write words three fathoms long, and sen-tences three miles long, and then they cansend us news of themselves.”

The young midshipman, who had a certainamount of imagination, was loudly applauded;Lieutenant Bronsfield allowing that the ideawas possible, but observing that if by thesemeans they could receive news from the lunarworld they could not send any from the ter-restrial, unless the Selenites had instrumentsfit for taking distant observations at their dis-posal.

“Evidently,” said one of the officers; “butwhat has become of the travelers? what theyhave done, what they have seen, that aboveall must interest us. Besides, if the exper-iment has succeeded (which I do not doubt),they will try it again. The Columbiad is stillsunk in the soil of Florida. It is now only aquestion of powder and shot; and every timethe moon is at her zenith a cargo of visitorsmay be sent to her.”

“It is clear,” replied Lieutenant Brons-field, “that J. T. Maston will one day join hisfriends.”

“If he will have me,” cried the midshipman,“I am ready!”

“Oh! volunteers will not be wanting,” an-swered Bronsfield; “and if it were allowed,half of the earth’s inhabitants would emigrateto the moon!”

This conversation between the officers ofthe Susquehanna was kept up until nearlyone in the morning. We cannot say what blun-dering systems were broached, what inconsis-


tent theories advanced by these bold spirits.Since Barbicane’s attempt, nothing seemedimpossible to the Americans. They had al-ready designed an expedition, not only of sa-vants, but of a whole colony toward the Selen-ite borders, and a complete army, consisting ofinfantry, artillery, and cavalry, to conquer thelunar world.

At one in the morning, the hauling in of thesounding-line was not yet completed; 1,670fathoms were still out, which would entailsome hours’ work. According to the comman-der’s orders, the fires had been lighted, andsteam was being got up. The Susquehannacould have started that very instant.

At that moment (it was seventeen minutespast one in the morning) Lieutenant Brons-field was preparing to leave the watch and re-turn to his cabin, when his attention was at-tracted by a distant hissing noise. His com-rades and himself first thought that this hiss-ing was caused by the letting off of steam; butlifting their heads, they found that the noisewas produced in the highest regions of theair. They had not time to question each otherbefore the hissing became frightfully intense,and suddenly there appeared to their dazzledeyes an enormous meteor, ignited by the ra-pidity of its course and its friction through theatmospheric strata.

This fiery mass grew larger to their eyes,and fell, with the noise of thunder, upon thebowsprit, which it smashed close to the stem,and buried itself in the waves with a deafen-ing roar!

424 Round the Moon

A few feet nearer, and the Susquehannawould have foundered with all on board!

At this instant Captain Blomsberry ap-peared, half-dressed, and rushing on to theforecastle-deck, whither all the officers hadhurried, exclaimed, “With your permission,gentlemen, what has happened?”

And the midshipman, making himself as itwere the echo of the body, cried, “Commander,it is ‘they’ come back again!”

J. T. MASTONRECALLED

“It is ‘they’ come back again!” the young mid-shipman had said, and every one had under-stood him. No one doubted but that the me-teor was the projectile of the Gun Club. As tothe travelers which it enclosed, opinions weredivided regarding their fate.

“They are dead!” said one.“They are alive!” said another; “the crater

is deep, and the shock was deadened.”“But they must have wanted air,” contin-

ued a third speaker; “they must have died ofsuffocation.”

“Burned!” replied a fourth; “the projectilewas nothing but an incandescent mass as itcrossed the atmosphere.”

“What does it matter!” they exclaimedunanimously; “living or dead, we must pullthem out!”

But Captain Blomsberry had assembledhis officers, and “with their permission,” washolding a council. They must decide uponsomething to be done immediately. The morehasty ones were for fishing up the projectile. A

425

426 Round the Moon

difficult operation, though not an impossibleone. But the corvette had no proper machin-ery, which must be both fixed and powerful; soit was resolved that they should put in at thenearest port, and give information to the GunClub of the projectile’s fall.

This determination was unanimous. Thechoice of the port had to be discussed. Theneighboring coast had no anchorage on 27◦

latitude. Higher up, above the peninsula ofMonterey, stands the important town fromwhich it takes its name; but, seated on theborders of a perfect desert, it was not con-nected with the interior by a network oftelegraphic wires, and electricity alone couldspread these important news fast enough.

Some degrees above opened the bay of SanFrancisco. Through the capital of the goldcountry communication would be easy withthe heart of the Union. And in less than twodays the Susquehanna, by putting on highpressure, could arrive in that port. She musttherefore start at once.

The fires were made up; they could set offimmediately. Two thousand fathoms of linewere still out, which Captain Blomsberry, notwishing to lose precious time in hauling in, re-solved to cut.

“We will fasten the end to a buoy,” said he,“and that buoy will show us the exact spotwhere the projectile fell.”

“Besides,” replied Lieutenant Bronsfield,“we have our situation exact—27◦ 7’ north lat-itude and 41◦ 37’ west longitude.”

“Well, Mr. Bronsfield,” replied the captain,


“now, with your permission, we will have theline cut.”

A strong buoy, strengthened by a couple ofspars, was thrown into the ocean. The end ofthe rope was carefully lashed to it; and, leftsolely to the rise and fall of the billows, thebuoy would not sensibly deviate from the spot.

At this moment the engineer sent to in-form the captain that steam was up and theycould start, for which agreeable communica-tion the captain thanked him. The course wasthen given north-northeast, and the corvette,wearing, steered at full steam direct for SanFrancisco. It was three in the morning.

Four hundred and fifty miles to cross; itwas nothing for a good vessel like the Susque-hanna. In thirty-six hours she had coveredthat distance; and on the 14th of December, attwenty-seven minutes past one at night, sheentered the bay of San Francisco.

At the sight of a ship of the national navyarriving at full speed, with her bowsprit bro-ken, public curiosity was greatly roused. Adense crowd soon assembled on the quay,waiting for them to disembark.

After casting anchor, Captain Blomsberryand Lieutenant Bronsfield entered an eight-pared cutter, which soon brought them toland.

They jumped on to the quay.“The telegraph?” they asked, without an-

swering one of the thousand questions ad-dressed to them.

The officer of the port conducted them tothe telegraph office through a concourse of

428 Round the Moon

spectators. Blomsberry and Bronsfield en-tered, while the crowd crushed each other atthe door.

Some minutes later a fourfold telegramwas sent out—the first to the Naval Secre-tary at Washington; the second to the vice-president of the Gun Club, Baltimore; thethird to the Hon. J. T. Maston, Long’s Peak,Rocky Mountains; and the fourth to the sub-director of the Cambridge Observatory, Mas-sachusetts.

It was worded as follows:

In 20◦ 7’ north latitude, and 41◦

37’ west longitude, on the 12thof December, at seventeen min-utes past one in the morning, theprojectile of the Columbiad fellinto the Pacific. Send instruc-tions. —BLOMSBERRY, Command-er Susquehanna.

Five minutes afterward the whole town of SanFrancisco learned the news. Before six in theevening the different States of the Union hadheard the great catastrophe; and after mid-night, by the cable, the whole of Europe knewthe result of the great American experiment.We will not attempt to picture the effect pro-duced on the entire world by that unexpecteddénouement.

On receipt of the telegram the Naval Sec-retary telegraphed to the Susquehanna towait in the bay of San Francisco without ex-tinguishing her fires. Day and night she mustbe ready to put to sea.


The Cambridge observatory called a spe-cial meeting; and, with that composurewhich distinguishes learned bodies in general,peacefully discussed the scientific bearings ofthe question. At the Gun Club there wasan explosion. All the gunners were assem-bled. Vice-President the Hon. Wilcome wasin the act of reading the premature dispatch,in which J. T. Maston and Belfast announcedthat the projectile had just been seen in the gi-gantic reflector of Long’s Peak, and also that itwas held by lunar attraction, and was playingthe part of under satellite to the lunar world.

We know the truth on that point.But on the arrival of Blomsberry’s dis-

patch, so decidely contradicting J. T. Maston’stelegram, two parties were formed in the bo-som of the Gun Club. On one side were thosewho admitted the fall of the projectile, andconsequently the return of the travelers; onthe other, those who believed in the observa-tions of Long’s Peak, concluded that the com-mander of the Susquehanna had made a mis-take. To the latter the pretended projectilewas nothing but a meteor! nothing but a me-teor, a shooting globe, which in its fall hadsmashed the bows of the corvette. It was dif-ficult to answer this argument, for the speedwith which it was animated must have madeobservation very difficult. The commanderof the Susquehanna and her officers mighthave made a mistake in all good faith; one ar-gument however, was in their favor, namely,that if the projectile had fallen on the earth,its place of meeting with the terrestrial globe

430 Round the Moon

could only take place on this 27◦ north lati-tude, and (taking into consideration the timethat had elapsed, and the rotary motion of theearth) between the 41◦ and the 42◦ of westlongitude. In any case, it was decided in theGun Club that Blomsberry brothers, Bilsby,and Major Elphinstone should go straight toSan Francisco, and consult as to the means ofraising the projectile from the depths of theocean.

These devoted men set off at once; andthe railroad, which will soon cross the wholeof Central America, took them as far as St.Louis, where the swift mail-coaches awaitedthem. Almost at the same moment in whichthe Secretary of Marine, the vice-presidentof the Gun Club, and the sub-director of theObservatory received the dispatch from SanFrancisco, the Honorable J. T. Maston was un-dergoing the greatest excitement he had everexperienced in his life, an excitement whicheven the bursting of his pet gun, which hadmore than once nearly cost him his life, hadnot caused him. We may remember that thesecretary of the Gun Club had started soonafter the projectile (and almost as quickly)for the station on Long’s Peak, in the RockyMountains, J. Belfast, director of the Cam-bridge Observatory, accompanying him. Ar-rived there, the two friends had installedthemselves at once, never quitting the sum-mit of their enormous telescope. We knowthat this gigantic instrument had been set upaccording to the reflecting system, called bythe English “front view.” This arrangement


subjected all objects to but one reflection,making the view consequently much clearer;the result was that, when they were takingobservation, J. T. Maston and Belfast wereplaced in the upper part of the instrumentand not in the lower, which they reached by acircular staircase, a masterpiece of lightness,while below them opened a metal well termi-nated by the metallic mirror, which measuredtwo hundred and eighty feet in depth.

It was on a narrow platform placed abovethe telescope that the two savants passedtheir existence, execrating the day which hidthe moon from their eyes, and the cloudswhich obstinately veiled her during the night.

What, then, was their delight when, af-ter some days of waiting, on the night ofthe 5th of December, they saw the vehiclewhich was bearing their friends into space!To this delight succeeded a great deception,when, trusting to a cursory observation, theylaunched their first telegram to the world, er-roneously affirming that the projectile had be-come a satellite of the moon, gravitating in animmutable orbit.

From that moment it had never shownitself to their eyes—a disappearance all themore easily explained, as it was then passingbehind the moon’s invisible disc; but when itwas time for it to reappear on the visible disc,one may imagine the impatience of the fum-ing J. T. Maston and his not less impatientcompanion. Each minute of the night theythought they saw the projectile once more,and they did not see it. Hence constant dis-

432 Round the Moon

cussions and violent disputes between them,Belfast affirming that the projectile could notbe seen, J. T. Maston maintaining that “it hadput his eyes out.”

“It is the projectile!” repeated J. T. Maston.“No,” answered Belfast; “it is an avalanche

detached from a lunar mountain.”“Well, we shall see it to-morrow.”“No, we shall not see it any more. It is car-

ried into space.”“Yes!”“No!”And at these moments, when contradic-

tions rained like hail, the well-known irri-tability of the secretary of the Gun Club con-stituted a permanent danger for the Honor-able Belfast. The existence of these two to-gether would soon have become impossible;but an unforseen event cut short their ever-lasting discussions.

During the night, from the 14th to the 15thof December, the two irreconcilable friendswere busy observing the lunar disc, J. T. Mas-ton abusing the learned Belfast as usual, whowas by his side; the secretary of the Gun Clubmaintaining for the thousandth time thathe had just seen the projectile, and addingthat he could see Michel Ardan’s face lookingthrough one of the scuttles, at the same timeenforcing his argument by a series of gestureswhich his formidable hook rendered very un-pleasant.

At this moment Belfast’s servant appearedon the platform (it was ten at night) and gavehim a dispatch. It was the commander of the


Susquehanna’s telegram.Belfast tore the envelope and read, and ut-

tered a cry.“What!” said J. T. Maston.“The projectile!”“Well!”“Has fallen to the earth!”Another cry, this time a perfect howl, an-

swered him. He turned toward J. T. Mas-ton. The unfortunate man, imprudently lean-ing over the metal tube, had disappeared inthe immense telescope. A fall of two hundredand eighty feet! Belfast, dismayed, rushed tothe orifice of the reflector.

He breathed. J. T. Maston, caught by hismetal hook, was holding on by one of the ringswhich bound the telescope together, utteringfearful cries.

Belfast called. Help was brought, tacklewas let down, and they hoisted up, not with-out some trouble, the imprudent secretary ofthe Gun Club.

He reappeared at the upper orifice withouthurt.

“Ah!” said he, “if I had broken the mirror?”“You would have paid for it,” replied

Belfast severely.“And that cursed projectile has fallen?”

asked J. T. Maston.“Into the Pacific!”“Let us go!”A quarter of an hour after the two savants

were descending the declivity of the RockyMountains; and two days after, at the sametime as their friends of the Gun Club, they

434 Round the Moon

arrived at San Francisco, having killed fivehorses on the road.

Elphinstone, the brothers Blomsberry, andBilsby rushed toward them on their arrival.

“What shall we do?” they exclaimed.“Fish up the projectile,” replied J. T. Mas-

ton, “and the sooner the better.”

RECOVEREDFROM THE SEA

The spot where the projectile sank under thewaves was exactly known; but the machin-ery to grasp it and bring it to the surfaceof the ocean was still wanting. It must firstbe invented, then made. American engineerscould not be troubled with such trifles. Thegrappling-irons once fixed, by their help theywere sure to raise it in spite of its weight,which was lessened by the density of the liq-uid in which it was plunged.

But fishing-up the projectile was not theonly thing to be thought of. They must actpromptly in the interest of the travelers. Noone doubted that they were still living.

“Yes,” repeated J. T. Maston incessantly,whose confidence gained over everybody, “ourfriends are clever people, and they cannothave fallen like simpletons. They are alive,quite alive; but we must make haste if wewish to find them so. Food and water do nottrouble me; they have enough for a long while.But air, air, that is what they will soon want;so quick, quick!”

435

436 Round the Moon

And they did go quick. They fitted up theSusquehanna for her new destination. Herpowerful machinery was brought to bear uponthe hauling-chains. The aluminum projec-tile only weighed 19,250 pounds, a weightvery inferior to that of the transatlantic ca-ble which had been drawn up under similarconditions. The only difficulty was in fishingup a cylindro-conical projectile, the walls ofwhich were so smooth as to offer no hold forthe hooks. On that account Engineer Murchi-son hastened to San Francisco, and had someenormous grappling-irons fixed on an auto-matic system, which would never let the pro-jectile go if it once succeeded in seizing it inits powerful claws. Diving-dresses were alsoprepared, which through this impervious cov-ering allowed the divers to observe the bot-tom of the sea. He also had put on board anapparatus of compressed air very cleverly de-signed. There were perfect chambers piercedwith scuttles, which, with water let into cer-tain compartments, could draw it down intogreat depths. These apparatuses were at SanFrancisco, where they had been used in theconstruction of a submarine breakwater; andvery fortunately it was so, for there was notime to construct any. But in spite of theperfection of the machinery, in spite of theingenuity of the savants entrusted with theuse of them, the success of the operation wasfar from being certain. How great were thechances against them, the projectile being20,000 feet under the water! And if even itwas brought to the surface, how would the


travelers have borne the terrible shock which20,000 feet of water had perhaps not suffi-ciently broken? At any rate they must actquickly. J. T. Maston hurried the workmenday and night. He was ready to don thediving-dress himself, or try the air appara-tus, in order to reconnoiter the situation of hiscourageous friends.

But in spite of all the diligence displayed inpreparing the different engines, in spite of theconsiderable sum placed at the disposal of theGun Club by the Government of the Union,five long days (five centuries!) elapsed beforethe preparations were complete. During thistime public opinion was excited to the highestpitch. Telegrams were exchanged incessantlythroughout the entire world by means of wiresand electric cables. The saving of Barbicane,Nicholl, and Michel Ardan was an interna-tional affair. Every one who had subscribedto the Gun Club was directly interested in thewelfare of the travelers.

At length the hauling-chains, the air-chambers, and the automatic grappling-ironswere put on board. J. T. Maston, EngineerMurchison, and the delegates of the GunClub, were already in their cabins. They hadbut to start, which they did on the 21st of De-cember, at eight o’clock at night, the corvettemeeting with a beautiful sea, a northeast-erly wind, and rather sharp cold. The wholepopulation of San Francisco was gathered onthe quay, greatly excited but silent, reservingtheir hurrahs for the return. Steam was fullyup, and the screw of the Susquehanna carried

438 Round the Moon

them briskly out of the bay.It is needless to relate the conversations on

board between the officers, sailors, and pas-sengers. All these men had but one thought.All these hearts beat under the same emotion.While they were hastening to help them, whatwere Barbicane and his companions doing?What had become of them? Were they ableto attempt any bold maneuver to regain theirliberty? None could say. The truth is thatevery attempt must have failed! Immersednearly four miles under the ocean, this metalprison defied every effort of its prisoners.

On the 23rd inst., at eight in the morn-ing, after a rapid passage, the Susquehannawas due at the fatal spot. They must wait tilltwelve to take the reckoning exactly. The buoyto which the sounding line had been lashedhad not yet been recognized.

At twelve, Captain Blomsberry, assisted byhis officers who superintended the observa-tions, took the reckoning in the presence of thedelegates of the Gun Club. Then there was amoment of anxiety. Her position decided, theSusquehanna was found to be some minuteswestward of the spot where the projectile haddisappeared beneath the waves.

The ship’s course was then changed so asto reach this exact point.

At forty-seven minutes past twelve theyreached the buoy; it was in perfect condition,and must have shifted but little.

“At last!” exclaimed J. T. Maston.“Shall we begin?” asked Captain Bloms-

berry.


“Without losing a second.”Every precaution was taken to keep the

corvette almost completely motionless. Be-fore trying to seize the projectile, EngineerMurchison wanted to find its exact position atthe bottom of the ocean. The submarine ap-paratus destined for this expedition was sup-plied with air. The working of these engineswas not without danger, for at 20,000 feet be-low the surface of the water, and under suchgreat pressure, they were exposed to fracture,the consequences of which would be dreadful.

J. T. Maston, the brothers Blomsberry, andEngineer Murchison, without heeding thesedangers, took their places in the air-chamber.The commander, posted on his bridge, su-perintended the operation, ready to stop orhaul in the chains on the slightest signal.The screw had been shipped, and the wholepower of the machinery collected on the cap-stan would have quickly drawn the apparatuson board. The descent began at twenty-fiveminutes past one at night, and the chamber,drawn under by the reservoirs full of water,disappeared from the surface of the ocean.

The emotion of the officers and sailors onboard was now divided between the prisonersin the projectile and the prisoners in the sub-marine apparatus. As to the latter, they forgotthemselves, and, glued to the windows of thescuttles, attentively watched the liquid massthrough which they were passing.

The descent was rapid. At seventeen min-utes past two, J. T. Maston and his compan-ions had reached the bottom of the Pacific; but

440 Round the Moon

they saw nothing but an arid desert, no longeranimated by either fauna or flora. By the lightof their lamps, furnished with powerful reflec-tors, they could see the dark beds of the oceanfor a considerable extent of view, but the pro-jectile was nowhere to be seen.

The impatience of these bold divers cannotbe described, and having an electrical commu-nication with the corvette, they made a signalalready agreed upon, and for the space of amile the Susquehanna moved their chamberalong some yards above the bottom.

Thus they explored the whole submarineplain, deceived at every turn by optical illu-sions which almost broke their hearts. Herea rock, there a projection from the ground,seemed to be the much-sought-for projectile;but their mistake was soon discovered, andthen they were in despair.

“But where are they? where are they?”cried J. T. Maston. And the poor man calledloudly upon Nicholl, Barbicane, and MichelArdan, as if his unfortunate friends could ei-ther hear or answer him through such an im-penetrable medium! The search continuedunder these conditions until the vitiated aircompelled the divers to ascend.

The hauling in began about six in theevening, and was not ended before midnight.

“To-morrow,” said J. T. Maston, as he setfoot on the bridge of the corvette.

“Yes,” answered Captain Blomsberry.“And on another spot?”“Yes.”J. T. Maston did not doubt of their final


success, but his companions, no longer up-held by the excitement of the first hours, un-derstood all the difficulty of the enterprise.What seemed easy at San Francisco, seemedhere in the wide ocean almost impossible. Thechances of success diminished in rapid propor-tion; and it was from chance alone that themeeting with the projectile might be expected.

The next day, the 24th, in spite of the fa-tigue of the previous day, the operation wasrenewed. The corvette advanced some min-utes to westward, and the apparatus, pro-vided with air, bore the same explorers to thedepths of the ocean.

The whole day passed in fruitless research;the bed of the sea was a desert. The 25thbrought no other result, nor the 26th.

It was disheartening. They thought ofthose unfortunates shut up in the projectilefor twenty-six days. Perhaps at that momentthey were experiencing the first approach ofsuffocation; that is, if they had escaped thedangers of their fall. The air was spent, anddoubtless with the air all their morale.

“The air, possibly,” answered J. T. Mastonresolutely, “but their morale never!”

On the 28th, after two more days of search,all hope was gone. This projectile was butan atom in the immensity of the ocean. Theymust give up all idea of finding it.

But J. T. Maston would not hear of go-ing away. He would not abandon the placewithout at least discovering the tomb of hisfriends. But Commander Blomsberry couldno longer persist, and in spite of the exclama-

442 Round the Moon

tions of the worthy secretary, was obliged togive the order to sail.

On the 29th of December, at nine A.M., theSusquehanna, heading northeast, resumedher course to the bay of San Francisco.

It was ten in the morning; the corvettewas under half-steam, as it was regrettingto leave the spot where the catastrophe hadtaken place, when a sailor, perched on themain-top-gallant crosstrees, watching the sea,cried suddenly:

“A buoy on the lee bow!”The officers looked in the direction indi-

cated, and by the help of their glasses sawthat the object signalled had the appearanceof one of those buoys which are used to markthe passages of bays or rivers. But, singularlyto say, a flag floating on the wind surmountedits cone, which emerged five or six feet out ofwater. This buoy shone under the rays of thesun as if it had been made of plates of silver.Commander Blomsberry, J. T. Maston, and thedelegates of the Gun Club were mounted onthe bridge, examining this object straying atrandom on the waves.

All looked with feverish anxiety, but insilence. None dared give expression to thethoughts which came to the minds of all.

The corvette approached to within two ca-bles’ lengths of the object.

A shudder ran through the whole crew.That flag was the American flag!

At this moment a perfect howling washeard; it was the brave J. T. Maston who hadjust fallen all in a heap. Forgetting on the


one hand that his right arm had been replacedby an iron hook, and on the other that a sim-ple gutta-percha cap covered his brain-box, hehad given himself a formidable blow.

They hurried toward him, picked him up,restored him to life. And what were his firstwords?

“Ah! trebly brutes! quadruply idiots! quin-tuply boobies that we are!”

“What is it?” exclaimed everyone aroundhim.

“What is it?”“Come, speak!”“It is, simpletons,” howled the terrible sec-

retary, “it is that the projectile only weighs19,250 pounds!”

“Well?”“And that it displaces twenty-eight tons, or

in other words 56,000 pounds, and that conse-quently it floats!”

Ah! what stress the worthy man had laidon the verb “float!” And it was true! All,yes! all these savants had forgotten this fun-damental law, namely, that on account of itsspecific lightness, the projectile, after havingbeen drawn by its fall to the greatest depthsof the ocean, must naturally return to the sur-face. And now it was floating quietly at themercy of the waves.

The boats were put to sea. J. T. Mastonand his friends had rushed into them! Ex-citement was at its height! Every heart beatloudly while they advanced to the projectile.What did it contain? Living or dead?

Living, yes! living, at least unless death

444 Round the Moon

had struck Barbicane and his two friendssince they had hoisted the flag. Profound si-lence reigned on the boats. All were breath-less. Eyes no longer saw. One of the scut-tles of the projectile was open. Some piecesof glass remained in the frame, showing thatit had been broken. This scuttle was actuallyfive feet above the water.

A boat came alongside, that of J. T. Maston,and J. T. Maston rushed to the broken window.

At that moment they heard a clear andmerry voice, the voice of Michel Ardan, ex-claiming in an accent of triumph:

“White all, Barbicane, white all!”Barbicane, Michel Ardan, and Nicholl

were playing at dominoes!

THE END

We may remember the intense sympathywhich had accompanied the travelers on theirdeparture. If at the beginning of the enter-prise they had excited such emotion both inthe old and new world, with what enthusi-asm would they be received on their return!The millions of spectators which had beset thepeninsula of Florida, would they not rush tomeet these sublime adventurers? Those le-gions of strangers, hurrying from all parts ofthe globe toward the American shores, wouldthey leave the Union without having seenBarbicane, Nicholl, and Michel Ardan? No!and the ardent passion of the public wasbound to respond worthily to the greatness ofthe enterprise. Human creatures who had leftthe terrestrial sphere, and returned after thisstrange voyage into celestial space, could notfail to be received as the prophet Elias wouldbe if he came back to earth. To see them first,and then to hear them, such was the universallonging.

Barbicane, Michel Ardan, Nicholl, and thedelegates of the Gun Club, returning withoutdelay to Baltimore, were received with inde-

445

446 Round the Moon

scribable enthusiasm. The notes of PresidentBarbicane’s voyage were ready to be givento the public. The New York Herald boughtthe manuscript at a price not yet known, butwhich must have been very high. Indeed, dur-ing the publication of “A Journey to the Moon,”the sale of this paper amounted to five mil-lions of copies. Three days after the returnof the travelers to the earth, the slightest de-tail of their expedition was known. There re-mained nothing more but to see the heroes ofthis superhuman enterprise.

The expedition of Barbicane and hisfriends round the moon had enabled them tocorrect the many admitted theories regardingthe terrestrial satellite. These savants had ob-served de visu, and under particular circum-stances. They knew what systems should berejected, what retained with regard to the for-mation of that orb, its origin, its habitability.Its past, present, and future had even givenup their last secrets. Who could advance ob-jections against conscientious observers, whoat less than twenty-four miles distance hadmarked that curious mountain of Tycho, thestrangest system of lunar orography? Howanswer those savants whose sight had pene-trated the abyss of Pluto’s circle? How contra-dict those bold ones whom the chances of theirenterprise had borne over that invisible faceof the disc, which no human eye until thenhad ever seen? It was now their turn to im-pose some limit on that selenographic science,which had reconstructed the lunar world asCuvier did the skeleton of a fossil, and say,

The End 447

“The moon was this, a habitable world, in-habited before the earth. The moon is that,a world uninhabitable, and now uninhabited.”

To celebrate the return of its most illus-trious member and his two companions, theGun Club decided upon giving a banquet, buta banquet worthy of the conquerors, worthyof the American people, and under such con-ditions that all the inhabitants of the Unioncould directly take part in it.

All the head lines of railroads in the Stateswere joined by flying rails; and on all the plat-forms, lined with the same flags, and deco-rated with the same ornaments, were tableslaid and all served alike. At certain hours,successively calculated, marked by electricclocks which beat the seconds at the sametime, the population were invited to take theirplaces at the banquet tables. For four days,from the 5th to the 9th of January, the trainswere stopped as they are on Sundays on therailways of the United States, and every roadwas open. One engine only at full speed, draw-ing a triumphal carriage, had the right oftraveling for those four days on the railroadsof the United States.

The engine was manned by a driver and astoker, and bore, by special favor, the Hon. J.T. Maston, secretary of the Gun Club. The car-riage was reserved for President Barbicane,Colonel Nicholl, and Michel Ardan. At thewhistle of the driver, amid the hurrahs, andall the admiring vociferations of the Americanlanguage, the train left the platform of Balti-more. It traveled at a speed of one hundred

448 Round the Moon

and sixty miles in the hour. But what wasthis speed compared with that which had car-ried the three heroes from the mouth of theColumbiad?

Thus they sped from one town to the other,finding whole populations at table on theirroad, saluting them with the same accla-mations, lavishing the same bravos! Theytraveled in this way through the east ofthe Union, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, Mas-sachusetts, Vermont, Maine, and New Hamp-shire; the north and west by New York, Ohio,Michigan, and Wisconsin; returning to thesouth by Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, Texas,and Louisiana; they went to the southeastby Alabama and Florida, going up by Geor-gia and the Carolinas, visiting the center byTennessee, Kentucky, Virginia, and Indiana,and, after quitting the Washington station, re-entered Baltimore, where for four days onewould have thought that the United Statesof America were seated at one immense ban-quet, saluting them simultaneously with thesame hurrahs! The apotheosis was worthyof these three heroes whom fable would haveplaced in the rank of demigods.

And now will this attempt, unprecedentedin the annals of travels, lead to any practicalresult? Will direct communication with themoon ever be established? Will they ever laythe foundation of a traveling service throughthe solar world? Will they go from one planetto another, from Jupiter to Mercury, and afterawhile from one star to another, from the Po-lar to Sirius? Will this means of locomotion

The End 449

allow us to visit those suns which swarm inthe firmament?

To such questions no answer can be given.But knowing the bold ingenuity of the Anglo-Saxon race, no one would be astonished if theAmericans seek to make some use of Presi-dent Barbicane’s attempt.

Thus, some time after the return of thetravelers, the public received with markedfavor the announcement of a company, lim-ited, with a capital of a hundred millionof dollars, divided into a hundred thousandshares of a thousand dollars each, under thename of the “National Company of Interstel-lary Communication.” President, Barbicane;vice-president, Captain Nicholl; secretary, J.T. Maston; director of movements, Michel Ar-dan.

And as it is part of the American temper-ament to foresee everything in business, evenfailure, the Honorable Harry Trolloppe, judgecommissioner, and Francis Drayton, magis-trate, were nominated beforehand!

and round the moon - ron burkey's project page · and round the moon jules verne. the...

Documents