Farewell To The Baltimore Gun Club
:
All Around The Moon
The intense interest of our extraordinary but most veracious history
having reached its culmination at the end of the last chapter, our
absorbing chronicle might with every propriety have been then and there
concluded; but we can't part from our gracious and most indulgent reader
before giving him a few more details which may be instructive perhaps,
if not amusing.
No doubt he kindly remembers the world-w
de sympathy with which our
three famous travellers had started on their memorable trip to the Moon.
If so, he may be able to form some idea of the enthusiasm universally
excited by the news of their safe return. Would not the millions of
spectators that had thronged Florida to witness their departure, now
rush to the other extremity of the Union to welcome them back? Could
those innumerable Europeans, Africans and Asiatics, who had visited the
United States simply to have a look at M'Nicholl, Ardan and Barbican,
ever think of quitting the country without having seen those wonderful
men again? Certainly not! Nay, more--the reception and the welcome that
those heroes would everywhere be greeted with, should be on a scale
fully commensurate with the grandeur of their own gigantic enterprise.
The Sons of Earth who had fearlessly quitted this terrestrial globe and
who had succeeded in returning after accomplishing a journey
inconceivably wonderful, well deserved to be received with every
extremity of pride, pomp and glorious circumstance that the world is
capable of displaying.
To catch a glimpse of these demi-gods, to hear the sound of their
voices, perhaps even to touch their hands--these were the only emotions
with which the great heart of the country at large was now throbbing.
To gratify this natural yearning of humanity, to afford not only to
every foreigner but to every native in the land an opportunity of
beholding the three heroes who had reflected such indelible glory on the
American name, and to do it all in a manner eminently worthy of the
great American Nation, instantly became the desire of the American
People.
To desire a thing, and to have it, are synonymous terms with the great
people of the American Republic.
A little thinking simplified the matter considerably: as all the people
could not go to the heroes, the heroes should go to all the people.
So decided, so done.
It was nearly two months before Barbican and his friends could get back
to Baltimore. The winter travelling over the Rocky Mountains had been
very difficult on account of the heavy snows, and, even when they found
themselves in the level country, though they tried to travel as
privately as possible, and for the present positively declined all
public receptions, they were compelled to spend some time in the houses
of the warm friends near whom they passed in the course of their long
journey.
The rough notes of their Moon adventures--the only ones that they could
furnish just then--circulating like wild fire and devoured with
universal avidity, only imparted a keener whet to the public desire to
feast their eyes on such men. These notes were telegraphed free to every
newspaper in the country, but the longest and best account of the
"Journey to the Moon" appeared in the columns of the New York
Herald, owing to the fact that Watkins the reporter had had the
adventurers all to himself during the whole of the three days' trip of
the Susquehanna back to San Francisco. In a week after their return,
every man, woman, and child in the United States knew by heart some of
the main facts and incidents in the famous journey; but, of course, it
is needless to say that they knew nothing at all about the finer points
and the highly interesting minor details of the astounding story. These
are now all laid before the highly favored reader for the first time. I
presume it is unnecessary to add that they are worthy of his most
implicit confidence, having been industriously and conscientiously
compiled from the daily journals of the three travellers, revised,
corrected, and digested very carefully by Barbican himself.
It was, of course, too early at this period for the critics to pass a
decided opinion on the nature of the information furnished by our
travellers. Besides, the Moon is an exceedingly difficult subject. Very
few newspaper men in the country are capable of offering a single
opinion regarding her that is worth reading. This is probably also the
reason why half-scientists talk so much dogmatic nonsense about her.
Enough, however, had appeared in the notes to warrant the general
opinion that Barbican's explorations had set at rest forever several pet
theories lately started regarding the nature of our satellite. He and
his friends had seen her with their own eyes, and under such favorable
circumstances as to be altogether exceptional. Regarding her formation,
her origin, her inhabitability, they could easily tell what system
should be rejected and what might be admitted. Her past, her
present, and her future, had been alike laid bare before their eyes. How
can you object to the positive assertion of a conscientious man who has
passed within a few hundred miles of Tycho, the culminating point in
the strangest of all the strange systems of lunar oreography? What reply
can you make to a man who has sounded the dark abysses of the Plato
crater? How can you dare to contradict those men whom the vicissitudes
of their daring journey had swept over the dark, Invisible Face of the
Moon, never before revealed to human eye? It was now confessedly the
privilege and the right of these men to set limits to that selenographic
science which had till now been making itself so very busy in
reconstructing the lunar world. They could now say, authoritatively,
like Cuvier lecturing over a fossil skeleton: "Once the Moon was this, a
habitable world, and inhabitable long before our Earth! And now the Moon
is that, an uninhabitable world, and uninhabitable ages and ages ago!"
We must not even dream of undertaking a description of the grand fete
by which the return of the illustrious members of the Gun Club was to be
adequately celebrated, and the natural curiosity of their countrymen to
see them was to be reasonably gratified. It was one worthy in every way
of its recipients, worthy of the Gun Club, worthy of the Great Republic,
and, best of all, every man, woman, and child in the United States could
take part in it. It required at least three months to prepare it: but
this was not to be regretted as its leading idea could not be properly
carried out during the severe colds of winter.
All the great railroads of the Union had been closely united by
temporary rails, a uniform gauge had been everywhere adopted, and every
other necessary arrangement had been made to enable a splendid palace
car, expressly manufactured for the occasion by Pullman himself, to
visit every chief point in the United States without ever breaking
connection. Through the principal street in each city, or streets if one
was not large enough, rails had been laid so as to admit the passage of
the triumphal car. In many cities, as a precaution against unfavorable
weather, these streets had been arched over with glass, thus becoming
grand arcades, many of which have been allowed to remain so to the
present day. The houses lining these streets, hung with tapestry,
decorated with flowers, waving with banners, were all to be illuminated
at night time in a style at once both the most brilliant and the most
tasteful. On the sidewalks, tables had been laid, often miles and miles
long, at the public expense; these were to be covered with every kind of
eatables, exquisitely cooked, in the greatest profusion, and free to
everyone for twelve hours before the arrival of the illustrious guests
and also for twelve hours after their departure. The idea mainly aimed
at was that, at the grand national banquet about to take place, every
inhabitant of the United States, without exception, could consider
Barbican and his companions as his own particular guests for the time
being, thus giving them a welcome the heartiest and most unanimous that
the world has ever yet witnessed.
Evergreens were to deck the lamp-posts; triumphal arches to span the
streets; fountains, squirting eau de cologne, to perfume and cool the
air; bands, stationed at proper intervals, to play the most inspiring
music; and boys and girls from public and private schools, dressed in
picturesque attire, to sing songs of joy and glory. The people, seated
at the banquetting tables, were to rise and cheer and toast the heroes
as they passed; the military companies, in splendid uniforms, were to
salute them with presented arms; while the bells pealed from the church
towers, the great guns roared from the armories, feux de joie
resounded from the ships in the harbor, until the day's wildest whirl of
excitement was continued far into the night by a general illumination
and a surpassing display of fireworks. Right in the very heart of the
city, the slowly moving triumphal car was always to halt long enough to
allow the Club men to join the cheering citizens at their meal, which
was to be breakfast, dinner or supper according to that part of the day
at which the halt was made.
The number of champagne bottles drunk on these occasions, or of the
speeches made, or of the jokes told, or of the toasts offered, or of the
hands shaken, of course, I cannot now weary my kind reader by detailing,
though I have the whole account lying before me in black and white,
written out day by day in Barbican's own bold hand. Yet I should like to
give a few extracts from this wonderful journal. It is a perfect model
of accuracy and system. Whether detailing his own doings or those of the
innumerable people he met, Caesar himself never wrote anything more
lucid or more pointed. But nothing sets the extraordinary nature of this
great man in a better light than the firm, commanding, masterly
character of the handwriting in which these records are made. The
elegant penmanship all through might easily pass for copper plate
engraving--except on one page, dated "Boston, after dinner," where,
candor compels me to acknowledge, the "Solid Men" appear to have
succeeded in rendering his iron nerves the least bit wabbly.
The palace car had been so constructed that, by turning a few cranks and
pulling out a few bolts, it was transformed at once into a highly
decorated and extremely comfortable open barouche. Marston took the seat
usually occupied by the driver: Ardan and M'Nicholl sat immediately
under him, face to face with Barbican, who, in order that everyone might
be able to distinguish him, was to keep all the back seat for himself,
the post of honor.
On Monday morning, the fifth of May, a month generally the pleasantest
in the United States, the grand national banquet commenced in Baltimore,
and lasted twenty-four hours. The Gun Club insisted on paying all the
expenses of the day, and the city compromised by being allowed to
celebrate in whatever way it pleased the reception of the Club men on
their return.
They started on their trip that same day in the midst of one of the
grandest ovations possible to conceive. They stopped for a little while
at Wilmington, but they took dinner in Philadelphia, where the splendor
of Broad Street (at present the finest boulevard in the world, being 113
feet wide and five miles long) can be more easily alluded to than even
partially described.
The house fronts glittered with flowers, flags, pictures, tapestries,
and other decorations; the chimneys and roofs swarmed with men and boys
cheerfully risking their necks every moment to get one glance at the
"Moon men"; every window was a brilliant bouquet of beautiful ladies
waving their scented handkerchiefs and showering their sweetest smiles;
the elevated tables on the sidewalks, groaning with an abundance of
excellent and varied food, were lined with men, women, and children,
who, however occupied in eating and drinking, never forgot to salute the
heroes, cheering them lustily as they slowly moved along; the spacious
street itself, just paved from end to end with smooth Belgian blocks,
was a living moving panorama of soldiers, temperance men, free masons,
and other societies, radiant in gorgeous uniforms, brilliant in flashing
banners, and simply perfect in the rhythmic cadence of their tread,
wings of delicious music seeming to bear them onward in their proud and
stately march.
A vast awning, spanning the street from ridge to ridge, had been so
prepared and arranged that, in case of rain or too strong a glare from
the summer sun, it could be opened out wholly or partially in the space
of a very few minutes. There was not, however, the slightest occasion
for using it, the weather being exceedingly fine, almost paradisiacal,
as Marston loved to phrase it.
The "Moon men" supped and spent the night in New York, where they were
received with even greater enthusiasm than at Philadelphia. But no
detailed description can be given of their majestic progress from city
to city through all portions of the mighty Republic. It is enough to say
that they visited every important town from Portland to San Francisco,
from Salt Lake City to New Orleans, from Mobile to Charleston, and from
Saint Louis to Baltimore; that, in every section of the great country,
preparations for their reception were equally as enthusiastic, their
arrival was welcomed with equal furore, and their departure
accompanied with an equal amount of affectionate and touching sympathy.
The New York Herald reporter, Mr. Watkins, followed them closely
everywhere in a palace car of his own, and kept the public fully
enlightened regarding every incident worth regarding along the route,
almost as soon as it happened. He was enabled to do this by means of a
portable telegraphic machine of new and most ingenious construction.
Though its motive power was electricity, it could dispense with the
ordinary instruments and even with wires altogether, yet it managed to
transmit messages to most parts of the world with an accuracy that,
considering how seldom it failed, is almost miraculous. The principle
actuating it, though guessed at by many shrewd scientists, is still a
profound secret and will probably remain so for some time longer, the
Herald having purchased the right to its sole and exclusive use for
fifteen years, at an enormous cost.
Who shall say that the apotheosis of our three heroes was not worthy of
them, or that, had they lived in the old prehistoric times, they would
not have taken the loftiest places among the demi-gods?
As the tremendous whirl of excitement began slowly to die away, the
more thoughtful heads of the Great Republic began asking each other a
few questions:
Can this wonderful journey, unprecedented in the annals of wonderful
journeys, ever lead to any practical result?
Shall we ever live to see direct communication established with the
Moon?
Will any Air Line of space navigation ever undertake to start a system
of locomotion between the different members of the solar system?
Have we any reasonable grounds for ever expecting to see trains running
between planet and planet, as from Mars to Jupiter and, possibly
afterwards, from star to star, as from Polaris to Sirius?
Even to-day these are exceedingly puzzling questions, and, with all our
much vaunted scientific progress, such as "no fellow can make out." But
if we only reflect a moment on the audacious go-a-headiveness of the
Yankee branch of the Anglo Saxon race, we shall easily conclude that the
American people will never rest quietly until they have pushed to its
last result and to every logical consequence the astounding step so
daringly conceived and so wonderfully carried out by their great
countryman Barbican.
In fact, within a very few months after the return of the Club men from
the Continental Banquet, as it was called in the papers, the country was
flooded by a number of little books, like Insurance pamphlets, thrust
into every letter box and pushed under every door, announcing the
formation of a new company called The Grand Interstellar Communication
Society. The Capital was to be 100 million dollars, at a thousand
dollars a share: J.P. BARBICAN, ESQ., P.G.C. was to be President;
Colonel JOSHUA D. M'NICHOLL, Vice-President; Hon. J.T. MARSTON,
Secretary; Chevalier MICHAEL ARDAN, General Manager; JOHN MURPHY, ESQ.,
Chief Engineer; H. PHILLIPS COLEMAN, ESQ. (Philadelphia lawyer), Legal
Adviser; and the Astrological Adviser was to be Professor HENRY of
Washington. (Belfast's blunder had injured him so much in public
estimation, his former partisans having become his most merciless
revilers, that it was considered advisable to omit his name altogether
even in the list of the Directors.)
From the very beginning, the moneyed public looked on the G.I.C.S, with
decided favor, and its shares were bought up pretty freely. Conducted on
strictly honorable principles, keeping carefully aloof from all such
damaging connection as the Credit Mobilier, and having its books
always thrown open for public inspection, its reputation even to-day is
excellent and continually improving in the popular estimation. Holding
out no utopian inducements to catch the unwary, and making no wheedling
promises to blind the guileless, it states its great objects with all
their great advantages, without at the same time suppressing its
enormous and perhaps insuperable difficulties. People know exactly what
to think of it, and, whether it ever meets with perfect success or
proves a complete failure, no one in the country will ever think of
casting a slur on the bright name of its peerless President, J.P.
Barbican.
For a few years this great man devoted every faculty of his mind to the
furthering of the Company's objects. But in the midst of his labors, the
rapid approach of the CENTENNIAL surprised him. After a long and careful
consultation on the subject, the Directors and Stockholders of the
G.I.C.S. advised him to suspend all further labors in their behalf for a
few years, in order that he might be freer to devote the full energies
of his giant intellect towards celebrating the first hundredth
anniversary of his country's Independence--as all true Americans would
wish to see it celebrated--in a manner every way worthy of the GREAT
REPUBLIC OF THE WEST!
Obeying orders instantly and with the single-idea'd, unselfish
enthusiasm of his nature, he threw himself at once heart and soul into
the great enterprise. Though possessing no official prominence--this he
absolutely insists upon--he is well known to be the great fountain head
whence emanate all the life, order, dispatch, simplicity, economy, and
wonderful harmony which, so far, have so eminently characterized the
magnificent project. With all operations for raising the necessary
funds--further than by giving some sound practical advice--he positively
refused to connect himself (this may be the reason why subscriptions to
the Centennial stock are so slow in coming in), but in the proper
apportionment of expenses and the strict surveillance of the mechanical,
engineering, and architectural departments, his services have proved
invaluable. His experience in the vast operations at Stony Hill has
given him great skill in the difficult art of managing men. His voice is
seldom heard at the meetings, but when it is, people seem to take a
pleasure in readily submitting to its dictates.
In wet weather or dry, in hot weather or cold, he may still be seen
every day at Fairmount Park, Philadelphia, leisurely strolling from
building to building, picking his steps quietly through the bustling
crowds of busy workmen, never speaking a word, not even to Marston his
faithful shadow, often pencilling something in his pocket book, stopping
occasionally to look apparently nowhere, but never, you may be sure,
allowing a single detail in the restless panorama around him to escape
the piercing shaft of his eagle glance.
He is evidently determined on rendering the great CENTENNIAL of his
country a still greater and more wonderful success than even his own
world-famous and never to be forgotten JOURNEY through the boundless
fields of ether, and ALL AROUND THE MOON!