Benjamin Franklin and the First Balloons

In Short

This collection of correspondence captures the birth of aviation through the eyes of Benjamin Franklin. While stationed in France as a diplomat in 1783, Franklin found himself front-row for the experimental balloon launches of the Montgolfier brothers and Professor Charles. Through a series of letters to the Royal Society, he chronicles the rapid evolution from small, unmanned silk globes to the first successful manned voyages. It remains a vital primary record of how a visionary mind perceived the sudden, transformative leap of human beings into the third dimension.

The Story

The narrative begins in August 1783, in the Champ de Mars, where thousands of Parisians gather to witness a mysterious, man-made globe rise into the sky. Franklin, writing from his home in Passy, provides a precise, journalistic account of this unmanned hydrogen-filled silk sphere. He notes the technical details—the use of oil-treated taffeta, the weight of the apparatus, and the mixture of acid and iron filings used to generate "inflammable air." He observes the crowd’s delight and their subsequent, often fantastical, musings on the potential uses for such a device, ranging from military surveillance to the freezing of water in the upper atmosphere.

As autumn progresses, the stakes rise. Franklin reports on the experiments at Versailles, where a larger hot-air balloon carries a sheep, a duck, and a cock aloft to test the safety of the skies. The excitement in Paris reaches a fever pitch, with various inventors competing to claim the title of the first aeronaut. Franklin documents the intense rivalry between the Montgolfier brothers, who favor hot-air designs fueled by burning straw, and the scientists Charles and Robert, who refine the more expensive, complex hydrogen models.

The tension culminates in November 1783. Franklin describes the scene at the Queen’s Palace, where he watches firsthand as the Marquis d'Arlandes and Pilâtre de Rozier ascend in a wicker gallery beneath a massive balloon. He confesses his anxiety for their safety as the craft drifts toward trees and struggles with the management of the onboard fire, yet he celebrates their safe return. He captures the wonder of the flight, noting how the men were "desorientés" until they recognized the dome of the Invalids below them, providing a rare human glimpse into the disorientation of early flight.

Finally, the narrative moves to the second manned voyage in December, conducted by Charles and Robert. Franklin, feeling too unwell to walk the grounds of the Tuileries, observes the launch from his carriage. He follows the balloon with a pocket glass until it vanishes into the blue. He experiences a brief moment of dread for the travelers, which is relieved the following day when reports confirm they have landed safely. The book concludes with the realization that the era of aerial navigation has arrived, not as a mere parlor trick, but as a genuine expansion of human power over the material world.

How It Unfolds

The first ascension Franklin details the launch of a twelve-foot globe in the Champ de Mars, noting the public’s awe as the vessel vanished into the clouds. He records the technical specifications of the silk and gas, setting the tone for a rigorous scientific observation.

The menagerie test The focus shifts to the royal experiments at Versailles, where animals serve as the first passengers. Franklin observes the majesty of the balloon’s rise and the safety of its animal cargo, signaling the transition toward human trials.

The first manned flight Franklin recounts the daring journey of the Marquis d'Arlandes and Pilâtre de Rozier, describing the precarious nature of managing a fire-fueled balloon in mid-air. He expresses his relief at their survival after the craft snags on tree branches.

The technological competition The rivalry between the hydrogen balloonists and the hot-air advocates intensifies. Franklin provides a technical comparison of the two methods, noting the costs, weights, and operational challenges of each.

The final observation From his carriage near the statue of Louis XV, Franklin watches the hydrogen-filled craft carry humans high above Paris. He concludes with reports of their safe landing and the realization that the balloon has fundamentally changed the human perspective.

The People

Benjamin Franklin serves as the central observer. As a man of science and diplomacy, he is uniquely positioned to bridge the gap between the inventive French aeronauts and the skeptical Royal Society in London. He is driven by a profound, rational curiosity, never losing his sense of wonder despite the gravity of his political duties.

The Montgolfier brothers appear as the ingenious, practical inventors of the hot-air craft. They are motivated by the desire to push boundaries, using simple, inexpensive materials to achieve what was once considered the domain of witches.

Professor Charles and the Robert brothers represent the refined, experimental side of the movement. They are men of "mechanic dexterity" and science, willing to invest 10,000 livres to prove that hydrogen-filled vessels can be controlled with precision.

The Marquis d'Arlandes and Pilâtre de Rozier stand as the courageous adventurers. They are the human proof of the new age, willing to risk their lives to experience the "charming view" from above. They remain calm in the face of danger, even when navigating their craft through the trees, ultimately transforming from strangers into celebrated pioneers of the horizon.

In Its Own Voice

"A few Months since the Idea of Witches riding thro' the Air upon a Broomstick, and that of Philosophers upon a Bag of Smoke, would have appeared equally impossible and ridiculous."

Franklin captures the swift, jarring transition from myth to reality in the public imagination.

"When we have learnt to manage it, we may hope some time or other to find Uses for it, as Men have done for Magnetism and Electricity of which the first Experiments were mere Matters of Amusement."

Writing to the Royal Society, Franklin argues that the inherent value of discovery often outstrips the immediate utility of a new invention.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this is a book about the democratization of the sky. Franklin is less interested in the mechanics of the balloons than in the shift in human possibility they represent. He explores the tension between "bashful" science—which fears failure—and the bold, public experimentation that fueled the French effort. He treats the balloon as a metaphor for progress, arguing that humanity should not be afraid to look foolish in the pursuit of knowledge. The work asks how we determine the value of a new power: must we know its purpose before we dare to use it, or is the expansion of human experience a sufficient end in itself?

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of science or the life of Benjamin Franklin will find this a fascinating, brief, and immediate experience. Reading these letters feels like opening a private correspondence that was never meant for the public eye, yet possesses the clarity of a well-edited newspaper. You are placed in the passenger seat of Franklin’s carriage, watching the first humans pull themselves into the sky.

The book is not without its challenges. The language reflects the eighteenth-century style, complete with its original punctuation and occasional archaic spelling, which requires a deliberate, steady pace. You will also encounter the period’s specific attitudes toward scientific progress, which may feel distant to a modern reader. However, the reward is an unparalleled sense of presence. You see the birth of an industry not through the lens of modern retrospective, but through the eyes of a man who was genuinely surprised by what he witnessed. It is a reminder that the world can change in an instant, and that sometimes, the most revolutionary inventions begin as little more than a "bag of smoke" and a bit of courage. It leaves the reader with a lingering, profound sense of the fragility and the majesty of our first steps into the air.