# Wonderful Balloon Ascents/Part 2/Chapter 7

CHAPTER VII.
GARNERIN—PARACHUTES—AEROSTATION AT PUBLIC FÊTES.
"On the 22nd October, 1797," says the astronomer Lalande, "at twenty-eight minutes past five, Citizen Garnerin rose in a balloon from the park of Monceau. Silence reigned in the assembly, anxiety and fear being painted on the visages of all. When he had ascended upwards of 2,000 feet, he cut the cord that connected his parachute and car with the balloon. The latter exploded, and Garnerin descended in his parachute very rapidly. He made a dreadful lurch in the air, that forced a sudden cry of fear from the whole multitude, and made a number of women faint. Meanwhile Citizen Garnerin descended into the plain of Monceau; he mounted his horse upon the spot, and rode back to the park, attended by an immense multitude, who gave vent to their admiration for the skill and talent of the young aeronaut. Garnerin was the first to undertake this most daring and dangerous venture. He had conceived the idea of this feat while lying a prisoner of state in Buda, Hungary." Lalande adds that he went and announced his success at the Institute National, which was assembled at the time, and which listened to him with the greatest interest.
CORONATION FÊTE AT PARIS.
Robertson made all the preparations, and Michaud had no more to do than place himself in the car. Loud applause arose on all sides. Michaud had ascended 900 feet above the earth when the signal for his cutting himself clear of the balloon was given, by the firing of a cannon. He at once cut the two strings, and the balloon soared away into the upper regions, whilst he was left for one terrible moment to fate. The fall was at first rapid, but the two parachutes soon opened themselves simultaneously, and presented a majestic appearance. In a few seconds the aeronaut had traversed the space that intervened between him and the assembly, and found himself safely landed on the ground, at a short distance from the place whence he had set out, while the whole air was rent with shouts of applause. This experiment was deemed a most extraordinary one. Compliments were showered upon Robertson from all sides, and the court presented him with rich presents.
Balloons have always formed a prominent feature at the fêtes of Paris, for the celebration of the chief events of the Revolution, the Consulate, and the Empire—the first of these epochs being that in which these aerial vessels were held in highest esteem.
Jacques Garnerin had played a brilliant rôle as aeronaut under the Directory, the Consulate, and the Empire; and it was he ​who after the coronation of the Emperor Napoleon I., was charged with the raising of a monster balloon, which was arranged to ascend, with the accompaniment of fireworks, on the evening of the 16th of December, 1804.
An uncommon incident connected with this event serves to show us the spirit of fatalism with which the character of Napoleon I. was infected. "The Man of Destiny" believed in the destiny of man; he had faith in his star alone; and from the height of his greatness the new ruler, consecrated emperor and king by the Pope, beheld a presage of misfortune in a chance circumstance, insignificant to all but himself, in the experiment of which we are about to recount the history.
The fête given by the city of Paris to their majesties embraced the whole town, from the Champs Elysées to the Barrière du Trône, on the square of the Hôtel de Ville. Upon the river throughout its length between the Isle of St. Louis and the bridge of Notre Dame, an immense display of fireworks was to take place. The scene to be represented was the passage of Mont St. Bernard. Garnerin was stationed with his balloon in front of the gate of the church of Notre Dame. At eleven o'clock in the evening, at the moment when the first discharge of fireworks made the air luminous with a hundred thousand stars, Garnerin threw off his immense balloon. The chief feature of it was the device of a crown, designed in coloured lanterns arranged round the globe. It rose splendidly, and with the most perfect success.
On the following morning the inhabitants of Rome were astounded to behold advancing toward them from the horizon a luminous globe, which threatened to descend upon their city. The excitement was intense. The balloon ​passed the cupola of St. Peter's and the Vatican; then descending, it touched the ground, but rose again, and finally it sank into the waters of Lake Bracciano.
It was drawn from the water, and the following inscription, emblazoned in letters of gold upon its vast circumference, was printed, published, and read throughout the whole of Italy—"Paris, 25$^{ième}$ Frimaire, an. XIII., couronnement de l'empereur Napoleon, 1$^{er}$ par S.S. Pie VII."
In touching the earth, the balloon happened to strike against the tomb of the Emperor Nero, and, owing to the concussion, a portion of the crown was left upon this ancient monument. The Italian journals, which were not so strictly under the supervision of the government as were the journals of France, gave the full particulars of these minor events; and certain of them, connecting the names of Nero and Napoleon, indulged in malicious remarks at the expense of the French emperor. These facts came to the ear of the great general, who manifested much indignation, dismissed the innocent Garnerin from his post, and appointed Madame Blanchard to the supervision of all the balloon ascents which took place at the public fêtes.
The balloon was preserved in the vaults of the Vatican in Rome, accompanied with an inscription narrating its travels and wonderful descent—minus the circumstance of the tomb. It was removed, as might be supposed, in 1814. From this time the ascents of balloons took place for the most part only on the occasions of coronations and other great public fêtes.