Before describing the second ascent, which was decidedly the more adventurous, we shall give the rules laid down for his party by Monsieur Nadar, which were remarkably stringent, and somewhat amusing:—

“1. Every traveller on board the ‘Géant’ must, before mounting, take knowledge of the present rules, and engage himself upon his honour to respect them, and to make them respected, both in the letter and in the spirit. He accepts and will obey this obligation until the descent.

“2. From the departure to the return there shall be only one command, that of the captain. That command shall be absolute.

“3. As legal penalty cannot be enforced, the captain, having the responsibility of the lives of the passengers, decides alone, and without appeal, in all circumstances, the means of assuring the execution of his orders with the aid of all under him. The captain can, in certain cases, take the advice of the crew, but his own authority is decisive.

“4. Every passenger declares, at the time of ascending, that he carries with him no inflammable materials.

“5. Every passenger accepts, by his simple presence on board, his entire part and perfect co-operation in all manoeuvres, and submits himself to all the necessities of the service; above all, to the command of the captain. On landing, he must not quit the balloon without permission duly acquired.

“6. Silence must be absolutely observed when ordered by the captain.

“7. Victuals and liquors carried up by the travellers must be deposited in the common canteen, of which the captain alone has the key, and who regulates the distribution thereof. Passengers have no claim to victuals and liquors, except when on board.

“8. The duration of the journey is not limited. The captain alone decides the limitation; the same judgment decides, without appeal, the putting down of one or more travellers in the course of the voyage.

“9. All gambling is expressly prohibited.

“10. It is absolutely forbidden to any traveller to throw overboard ballast, or any packet whatever.

“11. No passenger can carry up with him luggage exceeding thirty pounds in weight, and occupying more space than a travelling-bag.

“12. Except in very rare cases, of which the captain alone shall be judge, it is absolutely forbidden to smoke on board, or on land within the vicinity of the balloon.”

The second ascent took place on the 18th of October, when Monsieur Nadar, nothing daunted by his former experience, again went up in his “Giant” from the Champ de Mars. On this occasion preliminaries were managed with greater success than on the former, and the event was regarded with much more general interest. Soldiers kept the ground; the Emperor himself was present, and conversed with the bold aeronaut on the subject of his balloon; George the First of Greece was there also, and the crowd which assembled to witness the ascent surpassed all expectation.

There were two peculiar features in this second ascent. It had been doubted whether the balloon, which was said to be capable of raising four-and-a-half tons, could carry more than thirteen men. In order to set this question at rest, a short preliminary flight was made with a rope attached to restrain the “Giant.” About thirty soldiers were then put into the car, who mounted to the extent of the rope, and were pulled down again. The other feature was that a balloon of more ordinary dimensions was let fly along with the “Giant,” to give, by contrast, a better idea of its size. The balloon used for this purpose was the “Godillot,” which had been used by the Emperor in the Italian campaign for reconnoitring the enemy.

After the usual delays which are inseparable from such displays, Monsieur Nadar, with eight friends, stepped into the car, the rope was let go, and the “Giant” rose slowly towards the clouds, grew “small by degrees and beautifully less,” until it finally disappeared about night-fall—being wafted along by a gentle south-easterly breeze.

Nothing more was heard of the aeronauts for the next two days, and their friends were becoming naturally very anxious about them, when at last a telegram came from Bremen, dated the 21st, which ran as follows:—

“Nadar’s balloon descended near Eystrup in Hanover. There were nine persons in it, of whom three were seriously, and two slightly injured.”

Other telegrams quickly followed stating that Monsieur Nadar had both legs dislocated; Monsieur Saint Felix had sustained severe fractures and contusions; and that Madame Nadar had also been severely injured.

It was stated that the voyagers would probably all have perished if Jules Godard (a celebrated aeronaut, who, with his brother Louis, accompanied Nadar), had not, at the risk of his life, climbed up the net-work, and cut a hole in the silk with a hatchet, so as to allow the gas to escape. By so doing, he stopped the furious course of the balloon, which was making truly gigantic bounds of from forty to fifty yards over the ground, with a violence that would soon have knocked the car to pieces!

A full and graphic, but inflated and sentimental account of the voyage—which was one of real and thrilling interest—is given by one of the voyagers, Monsieur Eugène Arnould, a reporter of the French newspaper La Nation. Had Monsieur Arnould confined himself to a simple statement of facts, he would have greatly increased the interest and power of his description. However, we must take him as we find him, and as his account is the most complete—and correct in the main, although exaggerated in detail—we present it to the reader.

“At nine o’clock at night (the same night on which they started) we were at Erquelines; we passed over Malines, and towards midnight we were in Holland. We rose up very high, but it was necessary to come down to see where we were. Ignorant of that, our position was a critical one. Below, as far as we could see, were marshes, and in the distance we could hear the roar of the sea. We threw out ballast, and, mounting again, soon lost sight of the earth. What a night! Nobody slept, as you may suppose, for the idea of falling into the sea had nothing pleasant about it, and it was necessary to keep a look-out in order to effect, if necessary, a descent. My compass showed that we were going towards the east—that is to say, towards Germany. In the morning, after a frugal breakfast made in the clouds, we re-descended. An immense plain was beneath us; the villages appeared to us like children’s toys—rivers seemed like little rivulets—it was magical. The sun shone splendidly over all. Towards eight o’clock we arrived near a great lake; there I found out our bearings, and announced that we were at the end of Holland, near the sea.

“We passed I know not how much time in contemplating the enchanting scene around us; but at length we all felt the necessity of going downwards to see where we were. Presently the balloon came so near to the earth that we could readily distinguish the tall chimneys of a great many flaming furnaces. ‘If we were to fall upon some of them,’ said Montgolfier anxiously. These furnaces told us very clearly that we were in Belgium, and, besides, the Flemish songs that continually reached our ears left no doubt upon the point. Godard, Nadar, all of us, called out frequently to the people below, ‘Where are we?’ but we got no other answer than shouts of laughter. There were two bells in the car, and Yon and myself rang them as hard as we could, while Nadar roared through his speaking-trumpet. I had an opportunity of observing that the purity of the air in no degree attenuates the quantity of false notes lodged in the throats of certain individuals. Our aerial Charivari at length provoked a corresponding one on earth, and we could hear dogs barking, ducks quacking, men swearing, and women screaming. All this had a droll effect; but time went on, the wind blew hard, it was dark night, and our balloon drove on with prodigious rapidity, and we were not able to tell exactly where we were. I could not see my compass, and we were not allowed to light a lucifer match under any pretext whatsoever. From the direction in which we had passed over Lille, we judged that we must be going towards the sea; Louis Godard fancied that he could see lighthouses. We descended again to within 150 yards of the earth. Beneath us we saw a flat marshy country of sinister aspect, and indicating plainly the neighbourhood of the coast. Every one listened with all his ears, and many fancied they heard the murmurs of the sea. The further we went on the more desert the country became: there was no light whatever, and it became more and more difficult to guess where we were going. ‘I am entirely out of my reckoning,’ exclaimed Louis Godard, ‘and my opinion is that the only thing we have to do is to descend at once.’ ‘What! here in the marshes!’ remonstrated all of us; ‘and suppose we are driven into the sea?’ The balloon went driving on still. ‘We cannot descend here,’ said Jules Godard; ‘we are over water.’ Two or three of us looked over the edge of the car, and affirmed that we were not over water, but trees. ‘It is water,’ Jules Godard persisted. Every one now looked out attentively; and, as the balloon descended a little, we saw plainly that there was no water, but without being able to say positively whether there were trees or not. At the moment when Jules Godard thought he saw water, Nadar exclaimed, ‘I see a railway.’ It turned out that what Nadar took for a railway was a canal running towards the Scheldt, which we had passed over a few minutes before. Hurrah for balloons! They are the things to travel in; rivers, mountains, custom-houses,—all are passed without let or hindrance. But every medal has its reverse; and, if we were delighted at having safely got over the Scheldt, we by no means relished the prospect of going on to the Zuyder Zee. ‘Shall we go down?’ asked Louis Godard. There was a moment’s pause. We consulted together. Suddenly I uttered a cry of joy; the position of the needle of my compass indicated that the balloon had made a half turn to the right, and was now going due east. The aspect of the stars confirmed this assertion. Forward! was now the cry. We threw out a little ballast, mounted higher, and started with renewed vigour with our backs turned to the depreciated Zuyder Zee. It was now three in the morning, and none of us had slept. Just as we began to try to sleep a little, my diabolical compass showed that the balloon was turning back again. ‘Where are you going to take us to?’ cried out Yon to the immense mass of canvas which was oscillating above our heads. Louis Godard again proposed to descend; but we said, ‘No! forward! forward!’ Two hours sped away without our being able to tell where we were. At five o’clock day broke, and broad daylight came on with marvellous rapidity. It is true that we were at a height of 980 metres. Novel-writers and others have so much abused descriptions of sunrise, on mountains and on the ocean, that I shall say little about this one, although it is not a common thing to see the horizon on fire below the clouds. The finest Venetian paintings could alone give an idea of the luxuriant tones of the heaven that we saw. Such dazzling magnificence led me to wonder that there is no revival of sun worship, since men must necessarily have some material representation of the divinity. It is true that the sun is not made in man’s image! We now had beneath us an immense plain, the same, probably, that we had passed over in the night. There is nothing more pleasant at first sight, nor more monotonous in the long-run, than the sort of country which forms at least one-third of Holland. There are miniature woods the size of bouquets, fields admirably cultivated and divided into little patches like gardens, rivers with extraordinary windings, microscopic roads, coquettish-looking villages, so white and so clean that I think the Dutch housewives must scour the very roofs of their houses every morning. In the midst of every village there is a jewel of a church with a shining steeple. While riding along at a height of 700 metres, we had beneath us a picture of Paul Potter’s fifty leagues square. All at once the tableaux became animated. The people below had perceived the balloon. We heard cries expressive of astonishment, fright, and even of anger; but the feeling of fright seemed to predominate. We distinctly saw women in their chemises look hurriedly out of windows and then rush back again. We saw chubby boys looking at us, and blubbering as if they were mad. Some men, more determined than the rest, fired off guns at us. I saw several mammas pointing us out to stubborn babies, with an attitude which seemed to say that our balloon was Old Bogy. Old women raised their hands against us, and at their signal many ran away, making the sign of the cross. It is evident that in some of these villages we were taken to be the devil in person. On this point it is apropos to cite a letter communicated to me which has been addressed to the Courrier de Hanovre. I translate it textually:—

“‘This morning, at about six o’clock, we saw passing over our heads, at a prodigious height, an immense round form, to which was suspended s............