ROUND THE MOON
A SEQUEL TO
FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON
ROUND THE MOON
PRELIMINARY CHAPTER
THE FIRST PART OF THIS WORK, AND SERVING AS A PREFACE TO THE SECOND
During the year 186-, the whole world was greatly excited by a
scientific experiment unprecedented in the annals of science.
The members of the Gun Club, a circle of artillerymen formed at
Baltimore after the American war, conceived the idea of
putting themselves in communication with the moon!-- yes, with
the moon-- by sending to her a projectile. Their president,
Barbicane, the promoter of the enterprise, having consulted the
astronomers of the Cambridge Observatory upon the subject, took
all necessary means to ensure the success of this extraordinary
enterprise, which had been declared practicable by the majority
of competent judges. After setting on foot a public
subscription, which realized nearly L1,200,000, they began the
gigantic work.
According to the advice forwarded from the members of the
Observatory, the gun destined to launch the projectile had to be
fixed in a country situated between the 0 and 28th degrees of
north or south latitude, in order to aim at the moon when at the
zenith; and its initiatory velocity was fixed at twelve thousand
yards to the second. Launched on the 1st of December, at 10hrs.
46m. 40s. P.M., it ought to reach the moon four days after its
departure, that is on the 5th of December, at midnight
precisely, at the moment of her attaining her perigee, that is
her nearest distance from the earth, which is exactly 86,410
leagues (French), or 238,833 miles mean distance (English).
The principal members of the Gun Club, President Barbicane,
Major Elphinstone, the secretary Joseph T. Maston, and other
learned men, held several meetings, at which the shape and
composition of the projectile were discussed, also the position
and nature of the gun, and the quality and quantity of powder
to be used. It was decided: First, that the projectile should
be a shell made of aluminum with a diameter of 108 inches and a
thickness of twelve inches to its walls; and should weigh
19,250 pounds. Second, that the gun should be a Columbiad
cast in iron, 900 feet long, and run perpendicularly into
the earth. Third, that the charge should contain 400,000 pounds
of gun-cotton, which, giving out six billions of litres of gas in
rear of the projectile, would easily carry it toward the orb of night.
These questions determined President Barbicane, assisted by
Murchison the engineer, to choose a spot situated in Florida, in
27@ 7' North latitude, and 77@ 3' West (Greenwich) longitude.
It was on this spot, after stupendous labor, that the Columbiad
was cast with full success. Things stood thus, when an incident
took place which increased the interest attached to this great
enterprise a hundredfold.
A Frenchman, an enthusiastic Parisian, as witty as he was bold,
asked to be enclosed in the projectile, in order that he might
reach the moon, and reconnoiter this terrestrial satellite.
The name of this intrepid adventurer was Michel Ardan. He landed
in America, was received with enthusiasm, held meetings, saw
himself carried in triumph, reconciled President Barbicane to
his mortal enemy, Captain Nicholl, and, as a token of
reconciliation, persuaded them both to start with him in
the projectile. The proposition being accepted, the shape
of the projectile was slightly altered. It was made of a
cylindro-conical form. This species of aerial car was lined with
strong springs and partitions to deaden the shock of departure.
It was provided with food for a year, water for some months,
and gas for some days. A self-acting apparatus supplied the
three travelers with air to breathe. At the same time, on one
of the highest points of the Rocky Mountains, the Gun Club had
a gigantic telescope erected, in order that they might be able
to follow the course of the projectile through space. All was
then ready.
On the 30th of November, at the hour fixed upon, from the midst
of an extraordinary crowd of spectators, the departure took place,
and for the first time, three human beings quitted the terrestrial
globe, and launched into inter-planetary space with almost a
certainty of reaching their destination. These bold travelers,
Michel Ardan, President Barbicane, and Captain Nicholl, ought to
make the passage in ninety-seven hours, thirteen minutes, and
twenty seconds. Consequently, their arrival on the lunar disc
could not take place until the 5th of December at twelve at night,
at the exact moment when the moon should be full, and not on the
4th, as some badly informed journalists had announced.
But an unforeseen circumstance, viz., the detonation produced
by the Columbiad, had the immediate effect of troubling the
terrestrial atmosphere, by accumulating a large quantity of
vapor, a phenomenon which excited universal indignation, for the
moon was hidden from the eyes of the watchers for several nights.
The worthy Joseph T. Maston, the staunchest friend of the three
travelers, started for the Rocky Mountains, accompanied by the
Hon. J. Belfast, director of the Cambridge Observatory, and
reached the station of Long's Peak, where the telescope was
erected which brought the moon within an apparent distance of
two leagues. The honorable secretary of the Gun Club wished
himself to observe the vehicle of his daring friends.
The accumulation of the clouds in the atmosphere prevented all
observation on the 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th of December.
Indeed it was thought that all observations would have to be put
off to the 3d of January in the following year; for the moon
entering its last quarter on the 11th, would then only present
an ever-decreasing portion of her disc, insufficient to allow
of their following the course of the projectile.
At length, to the general satisfaction, a heavy storm cleared
the atmosphere on the night of the 11th and 12th of December,
and the moon, with half-illuminated disc, was plainly to be seen
upon the black sky.
That very night a telegram was sent from the station of Long's
Peak by Joseph T. Maston and Belfast to the gentlemen of the
Cambridge Observatory, announcing that on the 11th of December
at 8h. 47m. P.M., the projectile launched by the Columbiad of
Stones Hill had been detected by Messrs. Belfast and Maston--
that it had deviated from its course from some unknown cause,
and had not reached its destination; but that it had passed near
enough to be retained by the lunar attraction; that its
rectilinear movement had been changed to a circular one, and
that following an elliptical orbit round the star of night it
had become its satellite. The telegram added that the elements
of this new star had not yet been calculated; and indeed three
observations made upon a star in three different positions are
necessary to determine these elements. Then it showed that the
distance separating the projectile from the lunar surface "might"
be reckoned at about 2,833 miles.
It ended with the double hypothesis: either the attraction of
the moon would draw it to herself, and the travelers thus attain
their end; or that the projectile, held in one immutable orbit,
would gravitate around the lunar disc to all eternity.
With such alternatives, what would be the fate of the travelers?
Certainly they had food for some time. But supposing they did
succeed in their rash enterprise, how would they return?
Could they ever return? Should they hear from them?
These questions, debated by the most learned pens of the day,
strongly engrossed the public attention.
It is advisable here to make a remark which ought to be well
considered by hasty observers. When a purely speculative
discovery is announced to the public, it cannot be done with too
much prudence. No one is obliged to discover either a planet,
a comet, or a satellite; and whoever makes a mistake in such a
case exposes himself justly to the derision of the mass.
Far better is it to wait; and that is what the impatient Joseph
T. Maston should have done before sending this telegram forth to
the world, which, according to his idea, told the whole result
of the enterprise. Indeed this telegram contained two sorts of
errors, as was proved eventually. First, errors of observation,
concerning the distance of the projectile from the surface of
the moon, for on the 11th of December it was impossible to see
it; and what Joseph T. Maston had seen, or thought he saw, could
not have been the projectile of the Columbiad. Second, errors of
theory on the fate in store for the said projectile; for in making
it a satellite of the moon, it was putting it in direct
contradiction of all mechanical laws.
One single hypothesis of the observers of Long's Peak could ever
be realized, that which foresaw the case of the travelers (if
still alive) uniting their efforts with the lunar attraction to
attain the surface of the disc.
Now these men, as clever as they were daring, had survived the
terrible shock consequent on their departure, and it is their
journey in the projectile car which is here related in its most
dramatic as well as in its most singular details. This recital
will destroy many illusions and surmises; but it will give a
true idea of the singular changes in store for such an
enterprise; it will bring out the scientific instincts of
Barbicane, the industrious resources of Nicholl, and the
audacious humor of Michel Ardan. Besides this, it will prove
that their worthy friend, Joseph T. Maston, was wasting his
time, while leaning over the gigantic telescope he watched the
course of the moon through the starry space.
CHAPTER I
TWENTY MINUTES PAST TEN TO FORTY-SEVEN MINUTES PAST TEN P. M.
As ten o'clock struck, Michel Ardan, Barbicane, and Nicholl,
took leave of the numerous friends they were leaving on the earth.
The two dogs, destined to propagate the canine race on the lunar
continents, were already shut up in the projectile.
The three travelers approached the orifice of the enormous
cast-iron tube, and a crane let them down to the conical top of
the projectile. There, an opening made for the purpose gave
them access to the aluminum car. The tackle belonging to the
crane being hauled from outside, the mouth of the Columbiad was
instantly disencumbered of its last supports.
Nicholl, once introduced with his companions inside the
projectile, began to close the opening by means of a strong
plate, held in position by powerful screws. Other plates,
closely fitted, covered the lenticular glasses, and the
travelers, hermetically enclosed in their metal prison, were
plunged in profound darkness.
"And now, my dear companions," said Michel Ardan, "let us
make ourselves at home; I am a domesticated man and strong
in housekeeping. We are bound to make the best of our new
lodgings, and make ourselves comfortable. And first let us
try and see a little. Gas was not invented for moles."
So saying, the thoughtless fellow lit a match by striking it on
the sole of his boot; and approached the burner fixed to the
receptacle, in which the carbonized hydrogen, stored at high
pressure, sufficed for the lighting and warming of the
projectile for a hundred and forty-four hours, or six days and
six nights. The gas caught fire, and thus lighted the
projectile looked like a comfortable room with thickly padded
walls, furnished with a circular divan, and a roof rounded in
the shape of a dome.
Michel Ardan examined everything, and declared himself satisfied
with his installation.
"It is a prison," said he, "but a traveling prison; and, with
the right of putting my nose to the window, I could well stand
a lease of a hundred years. You smile, Barbicane. Have you any
_arriere-pensee_? Do you say to yourself, `This prison may be
our tomb?' Tomb, perhaps; still I would not change it for
Mahomet's, which floats in space but never advances an inch!"
While Michel Ardan was speaking, Barbicane and Nicholl were
making their last preparations.
Nicholl's chronometer marked twenty minutes past ten P.M. when
the three travelers were finally enclosed in their projectile.
This chronometer was set within the tenth of a second by that of
Murchison the engineer. Barbicane consulted it.
"My friends," said he, "it is twenty minutes past ten. At forty-
seven minutes past ten Murchison will launch the electric spark
on the wire which communicates with the charge of the Columbiad.
At that precise moment we shall leave our spheroid. Thus we
still have twenty-seven minutes to remain on the earth."
"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
morals and politics may be discussed, and even solved.
Twenty-six minutes well employed are worth more than twenty-six
years in which nothing is done. Some seconds of a Pascal or a
Newton are more precious than the whole existence of a crowd of
raw simpletons----"
"And you conclude, then, you everlasting talker?" asked Barbicane.
"I conclude that we have twenty-six minutes left," replied Ardan.
"Twenty-four only," said Nicholl.
"Well, twenty-four, if you like, my noble captain," said Ardan;
"twenty-four minutes in which to investigate----"
"Michel," said Barbicane, "during the passage we shall have
plenty of time to investigate the most difficult questions.
For the present we must occupy ourselves with our departure."
"Are we not ready?"
"Doubtless; but there are still some precautions to be taken,
to deaden as much as possible the first shock."
"Have we not the water-cushions placed between the partition-
breaks, whose elasticity will sufficiently protect us?"
"I hope so, Michel," replied Barbicane gently, "but I am not sure."
"Ah, the joker!" exclaimed Michel Ardan. "He hopes!--He is not
sure!-- and he waits for the moment when we are encased to make
this deplorable admission! I beg to be allowed to get out!"
"And how?" asked Barbicane.
"Humph!" said Michel Ardan, "it is not easy; we are in the
train, and the guard's whistle will sound before twenty-four
minutes are over."
"Twenty," said Nicholl.
For some moments the three travelers looked at each other.
Then they began to examine the objects imprisoned with them.
"Everything is in its place," said Barbicane. "We have now to
decide how we can best place ourselves to resist the shock.
Position cannot be an indifferent matter; and we must, as much
as possible, prevent the rush of blood to the head."
"Just so," said Nicholl.
"Then," replied Michel Ardan, ready to suit the action to the
word, "let us put our heads down and our feet in the air, like
the clowns in the grand circus."
"No," said Barbicane, "let us stretch ourselves on our sides; we
shall resist the shock better that way. Remember that, when the
projectile starts, it matters little whether we are in it or
before it; it amounts to much the same thing."
"If it is only `much the same thing,' I may cheer up," said
Michel Ardan.
"Do you approve of my idea, Nicholl?" asked Barbicane.
"Entirely," replied the captain. "We've still thirteen minutes
and a half."
"That Nicholl is not a man," exclaimed Michel; "he is a
chronometer with seconds, an escape, and eight holes."
But his companions were not listening; they were taking up their
last positions with the most perfect coolness. They were like
two methodical travelers in a car, seeking to place themselves
as comfortably as possible.
We might well ask ourselves of what materials are the hearts of
these Americans made, to whom the approach of the most frightful
danger added no pulsation.
Three thick and solidly-made couches had been placed in
the projectile. Nicholl and Barbicane placed them in the
center of the disc forming the floor. There the three
travelers were to stretch themselves some moments before
their departure.
During this time, Ardan, not being able to keep still, turned in
his narrow prison like a wild beast in a cage, chatting with his
friends, speaking to the dogs Diana and Satellite, to whom, as
may be seen, he had given significant names.
"Ah, Diana! Ah, Satellite!" he exclaimed, teasing them; "so you
are going to show the moon-dogs the good habits of the dogs of
the earth! That will do honor to the canine race! If ever we
do come down again, I will bring a cross type of `moon-dogs,'
which will make a stir!"
"If there _are_ dogs in the moon," said Barbicane.
"There are," said Michel Ardan, "just as there 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, clasping Nicholl's hand.
"But, by the bye, you have already lost three bets with our
president, as the necessary funds for the enterprise have been
found, as the operation of casting has been successful, and
lastly, as the Columbiad has been loaded without accident, six
thousand dollars."
"Yes," replied Nicholl. "Thirty-seven minutes six seconds past ten."
"It is understood, captain. Well, before another quarter of an
hour you will have to count nine thousand dollars to the
president; four thousand because the Columbiad will not burst,
and five thousand because the projectile will rise more than six
miles in the air."
"I have the dollars," replied Nicholl, slapping the pocket of
this coat. "I only ask to be allowed to pay."
"Come, Nicholl. I see that you are a man of method, which
I could never be; but indeed you have made a series of bets
of very little advantage to yourself, allow me to tell you."
"And why?" asked Nicholl.
"Because, if you gain the first, the Columbiad will have burst,
and the projectile with it; and Barbicane will no longer be
there to reimburse your dollars."
"My stake is deposited at the bank in Baltimore," replied
Barbicane simply; "and if Nicholl is not there, it will go to
his heirs."
"Ah, you practical men!" exclaimed Michel Ardan; "I admire you
the more for not being able to understand you."
"Forty-two minutes past ten!" said Nicholl.
"Only five minutes more!" answered Barbicane.
"Yes, five little minutes!" replied Michel Ardan; "and we are
enclosed in a projectile, at the bottom of a gun 900 feet long!
And under this projectile are rammed 400,000 pounds of gun-cotton,
which is equal to 1,600,000 pounds of ordinary powder! And friend
Murchison, with his chronometer in hand, his eye fixed on the
needle, his finger on the electric apparatus, is counting the
seconds preparatory to launching us into interplanetary space."
"Enough, Michel, enough!" said Barbicane, in a serious voice;
"let us prepare. A few instants alone separate us from an
eventful moment. One clasp of the hand, my friends."
"Yes," exclaimed Michel Ardan, more moved than he wished to
appear; and the three bold companions were united in a last embrace.
"God preserve us!" said the religious Barbicane.
Michel Ardan and Nicholl stretched themselves on the couches
placed in the center of the disc.
"Forty-seven minutes past ten!" murmured the captain.
"Twenty seconds more!" Barbicane quickly put out the gas and
lay down by his companions, and the profound silence was only
broken by the ticking of the chronometer marking the seconds.
Suddenly a dreadful shock was felt, and the projectile, under
the force of six billions of litres of gas, developed by the
combustion of pyroxyle, mounted into space.
