he Countess of Villeroy was a very old French lady who was strongly inclined to think that people were wrong in supposing they could cruise among the clouds in balloons. But when she saw Professor Charles and his companion rise into the blue sky, she was ready to agree with any one who said that men had conquered the upper air. Alas! only a few months later an event occurred which would have made her change her opinion.

Day by day the ballooning fever grew more intense, and when the King of Sweden visited Paris of course he had to be entertained with a grand display of the new discovery. PilÂtre de Rozier, a young physician who had, like Professor Charles, devoted much attention to the subject, ascended in a balloon bearing the French arms, with the flag of Queen Marie Antoinette floating from the car. The voyage was quite successful. Scarcely had the fanfare of trumpets which greeted its start died away when the aeronauts landed on the estate of the Prince of CondÉ, who welcomed them with more heartiness than his ancestors were wont to bestow on visitors from the King. Mingling with the buzz of delight which accompanied these experiments, was an ever-growing rumour that certain Englishmen had made up their minds to cross the Channel in a balloon. It would never do to let them be first in performing such a feat, so PilÂtre de Rozier lost no time in asking the French Court for forty thousand francs, to build a special balloon which would take him across the English Channel. 'It is a matter of national honour,' said a writer of the time; and as most people agreed with him, De Rozier's request was granted.

The balloon was different from any other yet made, being a combination of both the systems. The lower section was a large bag to be filled with hot air, after Montgolfier's plan, and round which the platform for the travellers was arranged. The upper part was a huge gas balloon. 'My idea is,' said De Rozier, 'that by this invention much gas will be saved, for when I wish to descend I shall simply cool the hot air in the Montgolfier instead of letting out the gas. Then, to rise again it would only be necessary to rekindle the fire. This also renders ballast unnecessary.'

It was very ingenious, but most people will agree with Professor Charles that 'it was like lighting a fire under a barrel of gunpowder.'

However, the balloon was built, and measured, when complete, seventy-two feet from platform to summit. The race for the honour of crossing the narrow sea had begun, and PilÂtre took his giant to Boulogne. But here on the very shore he was doomed to stay, for the winter winds blew shrill and strong from the west. Day after day he waited for more favourable weather, and day after day he heard with still greater concern that an Englishman named Blanchard was already at Dover, waiting only for the winds to subside a little before he set out in his balloon. PilÂtre's anxiety was increased every time he thought of the forty thousand francs he had begged from the Government, and, hoping that report had been exaggerated, he took ship to Dover to see if Mr. Blanchard was really as well prepared as people said. There had been no exaggeration, and he returned to Boulogne more disturbed than ever.

With the assistance of a young doctor, named Romain, he made a number of small balloons, and sent them into the air at frequent intervals to see if they would rise into some current which would waft them to England, and show a way that he might follow. But they all fell back on the French coast, and the hopes of success grew less and less. At last the rough weather died away and a lighter wind blew from the west. Letters came from Paris urging him to ascend, and reminding him of the money paid for the experiment. Contrary winds were not considered by the officials of Paris, and poor PilÂtre could only repeat that it was impossible to sail against them. With eager eyes he watched the sea in the direction of Dover, and one day (it was the 7th of December) he saw Blanchard's balloon come sailing majestically over the grey waters, and knew that the strange race was lost. France would not have the honour of having first crossed the Channel through the air. But PilÂtre de Rozier, being a brave man, hastened to Calais, and was among the first to congratulate his successful rival. He would now have been willing to abandon his project, but such a thing was not to be permitted. He was told that it was easier to sail from England to France, since the latter had a much longer coast-line, whereas it would be a great feat for him to accomplish the reverse journey. It was vain to point out that his balloon had become weather-worn in the long waiting, and how his materials had suffered from the attacks of rats. The forty thousand francs must not be spent for nothing; so PilÂtre patched his taffeta as best he could, and with the heroic assistance of his friend, Romain, had things fairly in order by June 13th, though he was so uncertain of success that he declined to endanger the life of a gentleman who asked to be allowed to accompany him.

On the morning of June 15th, the loud report of a cannon told the inhabitants of Boulogne that he intended to start. At seven o'clock he and Romain stepped into the gallery and the balloon was released. With majestic slowness they rose into the air and sailed out over the sea; but a moment later the wind, that had so long been his enemy, drove them back. The crowd watched with great anxiety. Twenty-seven minutes after starting, the balloon, at a height of one thousand seven hundred feet, was still only a short distance away. Then, to the horror of the spectators, PilÂtre de Rozier was seen to make a gesture of alarm, and the next moment a blue flame leapt from the summit of the balloon. With terrible speed the unfortunate aeronauts were dashed to the earth. A horseman, who tells the terrible story, galloped to the spot in the hope of finding them still alive. PilÂtre de Rozier lay in the gallery quite dead, with scarcely a bone in his body unbroken, and the young Romain lived only to mutter an incoherent word or two.

In memory of the sad event an obelisk was erected on the place where they fell, and in the cemetery at Wimille, their place of burial is marked by the stone carving of a flaming balloon.

John Lea.