General John Steele, comptroller of the U.S. Treasury, was astonished at what he saw. In a letter to a friend, he wrote, “Seeing the man waving a flag at an immense height from the ground, was the most interesting sight that I ever beheld, and tho I had no acquaintance with him, I could not help trembling for his safety.”

Subscribe Today

• Did you enjoy our article?
• Read more in Aviation History magazine
• Subscribe online and save nearly 40%!!!
 

Blanchard rose steadily upward. At about “200 fathoms,” a mild breeze developed from the northwest and carried him toward the Delaware River. A flock of wild pigeons flew by and scattered into two groups, frightened at the sight of a human being invading their special realm. The small dog whimpered restlessly when he heard them flutter by, but was reassured by a pat on the head. Over the river, the balloon leveled off “in a state of perfect equilibrium in the midst of a stagnant fluid” at 5,800 feet. As Blanchard proceeded slowly southeastward, he observed the sparkling sunbeams on the water below; he later wrote, “this river appeared to me like a ribband [sic] of the breadth of about four inches.”

Mindful that he intended to play the role of an aeronautical scientist, Blanchard became the first test pilot in America by performing a number of experiments during the flight. He filled six bottles “with that atmospherical air wherein I was floating” and sealed them “as the accuracy of the experiment required.”

Next, Blanchard timed his pulse with his pocket watch. He carefully noted that “my observations gave me 92 pulsations in the minute (the average of 4 observations made at the place of my elevation) whereas on the ground I had experienced no more than 84 in the same given time….”

The scientist-aeronaut then weighed a lodestone that on the ground “raised 51ž2 ounces avoirdupois” but at his greatest altitude weighed only 4 ounces. He made further notes concerning pressure and temperature before he turned to observations of the weather. He reported that “a whitish cloud withheld from my sight for several minutes a part of the city of Philadelphia….A thick fog covered the south; toward the east…a mist arose, which prevented me from reconnoitering the area.”

The wind began to increase, and the balloon continued to drift on a southeasterly course across the New Jersey side of the river. Blanchard relaxed briefly and satisfied his appetite “with a morsel of biscuit and a glass of wine.” He thought he saw the Atlantic Ocean in the distance and made preparations to descend. Mindful that his delicate instruments might break on landing, he carefully stowed them in boxes, cleared away several decorations from the side of the basket, valved out some hydrogen, and emptied several excess ballast bags overboard.

Guiding its downward course carefully by manipulating the gas valve and judging the weight of remaining ballast, Blanchard steered the balloon to a safe landing in an open, plowed field near the town of Woodbury, N.J., 46 minutes after his departure from the City of Brotherly Love. He had traveled about 15 miles. His canine passenger immediately debarked and made off for the nearest tree. The first aerial voyage in America had been brought to a successful conclusion.

Blanchard worked quickly to let the gas out of the silken globe so that it would not drag across the field into a clump of nearby trees. He unloaded his instruments and found them all in good shape except his barometer, which was broken.

Blanchard now realized he had a problem shared by all balloonists, who invariably land far from their takeoff points. How was he going to get back to Philadelphia? He took out a compass and sighted toward the northwest–directly toward the figure of a farmer who was staring open-mouthed at this strange foreigner who had dropped so silently from the skies.

Since he knew little English, Blanchard yelled to the man in French. This frightened the farmer, who stepped backward several paces. Afraid the man would run away, Blanchard held up the bottle of wine and gestured to him to come closer for a drink. Suspicious and cautious, the husky farmer approached warily and took a sip, but only after the stranger downed a swig first. Blanchard soon had a willing helper, thanks to the medium of “the exhilarating juice of the grape.” Although they could not converse and the farmer could not read the passport letter Blanchard carried, he did recognize the name Washington when the aeronaut spoke his name.

Help HistoryNet by bookmarking to