The Columbiad

Had the casting succeeded? They were reduced to mere conjecture. There was indeed every reason to expect success, since the mould has absorbed the entire mass of the molten metal; still some considerable time must elapse before they could arrive at any certainty upon the matter.

Had the casting succeeded? They could only guess. There was every reason to expect success, since the mold had taken in all the molten metal. But it would be some time before they could be certain.

The patience of the members of the Gun Club was sorely tried during this period of time. But they could do nothing. J. T. Maston escaped roasting by a miracle. Fifteen days after the casting an immense column of smoke was still rising in the open sky and the ground burned the soles of the feet within a radius of two hundred feet round the summit of Stones Hill. It was impossible to approach nearer. All they could do was to wait with what patience they might.

The Gun Club members' patience was severely tested during this time. But they could do nothing. J. T. Maston escaped being roasted by a miracle. Fifteen days after the casting, a huge column of smoke was still rising into the sky. The ground was hot enough to burn the soles of their feet within two hundred feet of Stones Hill's summit. It was impossible to get any closer. All they could do was wait as patiently as they could.

“Here we are at the 10th of August,” exclaimed J. T. Maston one morning, “only four months to the 1st of December! We shall never be ready in time!” Barbicane said nothing, but his silence covered serious irritation.

“It’s already August 10,” exclaimed J. T. Maston one morning. “Only four months until December 1! We’ll never be ready in time!” Barbicane said nothing, but his silence hid serious irritation.

However, daily observations revealed a certain change going on in the state of the ground. About the 15th of August the vapors ejected had sensibly diminished in intensity and thickness. Some days afterward the earth exhaled only a slight puff of smoke, the last breath of the monster enclosed within its circle of stone. Little by little the belt of heat contracted, until on the 22nd of August, Barbicane, his colleagues, and the engineer were enabled to set foot on the iron sheet which lay level upon the summit of Stones Hill.

However, daily observations showed that the ground was changing. Around August 15, the vapors coming from the ground had become noticeably weaker and thinner. A few days later, the earth gave off only a slight puff of smoke. It was the last breath of the monster trapped within its circle of stone. Gradually, the belt of heat shrank. By August 22, Barbicane, his colleagues, and the engineer could step onto the iron sheet lying flat atop Stones Hill.

“At last!” exclaimed the president of the Gun Club, with an immense sigh of relief.

“At last!” exclaimed the president of the Gun Club, with a huge sigh of relief.

The work was resumed the same day. They proceeded at once to extract the interior mould, for the purpose of clearing out the boring of the piece. Pickaxes and boring irons were set to work without intermission. The clayey and sandy soils had acquired extreme hardness under the action of the heat; but, by the aid of the machines, the rubbish on being dug out was rapidly carted away on railway wagons; and such was the ardor of the work, so persuasive the arguments of Barbicane’s dollars, that by the 3rd of September all traces of the mould had entirely disappeared.

Work resumed that same day. They immediately began removing the inner mold to clear out the cannon’s bore. Pickaxes and boring tools worked without stopping. The heat had made the clay and sandy soil extremely hard. But machines quickly carried the excavated debris away in railway wagons. The workers were so eager, and Barbicane’s dollars so persuasive, that by September 3, all traces of the mold had disappeared.

Immediately the operation of boring was commenced; and by the aid of powerful machines, a few weeks later, the inner surface of the immense tube had been rendered perfectly cylindrical, and the bore of the piece had acquired a thorough polish.

Boring began immediately. A few weeks later, powerful machines had made the inside of the immense tube perfectly cylindrical and thoroughly polished.

At length, on the 22d of September, less than a twelvemonth after Barbicane’s original proposition, the enormous weapon, accurately bored, and exactly vertically pointed, was ready for work. There was only the moon now to wait for; and they were pretty sure that she would not fail in the rendezvous.

Finally, on September 22, less than a year after Barbicane’s original proposal, the enormous weapon was ready. It had been precisely bored and aimed straight up. Now they only had to wait for the moon, and they were fairly sure she would keep the appointment.

The ecstasy of J. T. Maston knew no bounds, and he narrowly escaped a frightful fall while staring down the tube. But for the strong hand of Colonel Blomsberry, the worthy secretary, like a modern Erostratus, would have found his death in the depths of the Columbiad.

J. T. Maston’s joy knew no bounds. As he stared down the tube, he nearly suffered a terrible fall. Without Colonel Blomsberry’s strong hand, the worthy secretary would have died in the depths of the Columbiad, like a modern Erostratus.

The cannon was then finished; there was no possible doubt as to its perfect completion. So, on the 6th of October, Captain Nicholl opened an account between himself and President Barbicane, in which he debited himself to the latter in the sum of two thousand dollars. One may believe that the captain’s wrath was increased to its highest point, and must have made him seriously ill. However, he had still three bets of three, four, and five thousand dollars, respectively; and if he gained two out of these, his position would not be very bad. But the money question did not enter into his calculations; it was the success of his rival in casting a cannon against which iron plates sixty feet thick would have been ineffectual, that dealt him a terrible blow.

The cannon was finished. There was no possible doubt that it was complete. So, on October 6, Captain Nicholl recorded that he owed President Barbicane two thousand dollars. One can imagine that the captain’s anger reached its highest point and must have made him seriously ill. However, he still had three bets of three, four, and five thousand dollars, respectively. If he won two of them, he would not be in a very bad position. But money did not enter into his calculations. What dealt him a terrible blow was his rival’s success in casting a cannon. Even iron plates sixty feet thick would have been useless against it.

After the 23rd of September the enclosure of Stones hill was thrown open to the public; and it will be easily imagined what was the concourse of visitors to this spot! There was an incessant flow of people to and from Tampa Town and the place, which resembled a procession, or rather, in fact, a pilgrimage.

After September 23, the enclosure at Stones hill was opened to the public. You can easily imagine the crowds that visited the spot! People streamed constantly between Tampa Town and Stones hill. It looked like a procession, or rather, a pilgrimage.

It was already clear to be seen that, on the day of the experiment itself, the aggregate of spectators would be counted by millions; for they were already arriving from all parts of the earth upon this narrow strip of promontory. Europe was emigrating to America.

It was already clear that millions of spectators would gather on the day of the experiment. People were already arriving on this narrow strip of land from all over the world. Europe was moving to America.

Up to that time, however, it must be confessed, the curiosity of the numerous comers was but scantily gratified. Most had counted upon witnessing the spectacle of the casting, and they were treated to nothing but smoke. This was sorry food for hungry eyes; but Barbicane would admit no one to that operation. Then ensued grumbling, discontent, murmurs; they blamed the president, taxed him with dictatorial conduct. His proceedings were declared “un-American.” There was very nearly a riot round Stones Hill; but Barbicane remained inflexible. When, however, the Columbiad was entirely finished, this state of closed doors could no longer be maintained; besides it would have been bad taste, and even imprudence, to affront the public feeling. Barbicane, therefore, opened the enclosure to all comers; but, true to his practical disposition, he determined to coin money out of the public curiosity.

Until then, however, the curiosity of the many visitors had hardly been satisfied. Most had expected to watch the casting, but all they saw was smoke. That was meager fare for hungry eyes, but Barbicane would let no one watch the operation. Grumbling, discontent, and complaints followed. People blamed the president and accused him of acting like a dictator. His actions were declared “un-American.” There was almost a riot around Stones Hill, but Barbicane refused to give way. Once the Columbiad was finished, however, he could no longer keep the enclosure closed. Besides, it would have been in bad taste, and even unwise, to offend public feeling. Barbicane therefore opened the enclosure to everyone. But, practical as ever, he decided to make money from the public’s curiosity.

It was something, indeed, to be enabled to contemplate this immense Columbiad; but to descend into its depths, this seemed to the Americans the ne plus ultra of earthly felicity. Consequently, there was not one curious spectator who was not willing to give himself the treat of visiting the interior of this great metallic abyss. Baskets suspended from steam-cranes permitted them to satisfy their curiosity. There was a perfect mania. Women, children, old men, all made it a point of duty to penetrate the mysteries of the colossal gun. The fare for the descent was fixed at five dollars per head; and despite this high charge, during the two months which preceded the experiment, the influx of visitors enabled the Gun Club to pocket nearly five hundred thousand dollars!

It was a thrill just to see the immense Columbiad. But to descend into its depths seemed to the Americans the ultimate earthly pleasure. So every curious spectator wanted to treat themselves to a visit inside the great metallic abyss. Baskets suspended from steam cranes let them satisfy their curiosity. It was a complete mania. Women, children, and old men all made it a point of duty to explore the mysteries of the colossal gun. The descent cost five dollars per person. Despite the high price, visitors flocked to the gun during the two months before the experiment. The Gun Club pocketed nearly five hundred thousand dollars!

It is needless to say that the first visitors of the Columbiad were the members of the Gun Club. This privilege was justly reserved for that illustrious body. The ceremony took place on the 25th of September. A basket of honor took down the president, J. T. Maston, Major Elphinstone, General Morgan, Colonel Blomsberry, and other members of the club, to the number of ten in all. How hot it was at the bottom of that long tube of metal! They were half suffocated. But what delight! What ecstasy! A table had been laid with six covers on the massive stone which formed the bottom of the Columbiad, and lighted by a jet of electric light resembling that of day itself. Numerous exquisite dishes, which seemed to descend from heaven, were placed successively before the guests, and the richest wines of France flowed in profusion during this splendid repast, served nine hundred feet beneath the surface of the earth!

Of course, the first visitors to the Columbiad were members of the Gun Club. That privilege rightly belonged to the distinguished group. The ceremony took place on September 25. A special basket lowered the president, J. T. Maston, Major Elphinstone, General Morgan, Colonel Blomsberry, and other club members. There were ten in all. How hot it was at the bottom of that long metal tube! They were nearly suffocated. But what delight! What ecstasy! A table was set for six on the massive stone at the bottom of the Columbiad. An electric light lit it as brightly as daylight. Many exquisite dishes, which seemed to descend from heaven, were placed before the guests one after another. The finest French wines flowed freely during this splendid meal, served nine hundred feet below the earth’s surface!

The festival was animated, not to say somewhat noisy. Toasts flew backward and forward. They drank to the earth and to her satellite, to the Gun Club, the Union, the Moon, Diana, Phoebe, Selene, the “peaceful courier of the night!” All the hurrahs, carried upward upon the sonorous waves of the immense acoustic tube, arrived with the sound of thunder at its mouth; and the multitude ranged round Stones Hill heartily united their shouts with those of the ten revelers hidden from view at the bottom of the gigantic Columbiad.

The celebration was lively, even a little noisy. Toasts went back and forth. They drank to Earth and its satellite, to the Gun Club, the Union, the Moon, Diana, Phoebe, Selene, the “peaceful courier of the night!” All the cheers rose through the huge acoustic tube and thundered out of its mouth. The crowd gathered around Stones Hill joined heartily in the shouts of the ten revelers, hidden from view at the bottom of the gigantic Columbiad.

J. T. Maston was no longer master of himself. Whether he shouted or gesticulated, ate or drank most, would be a difficult matter to determine. At all events, he would not have given his place up for an empire, “not even if the cannon—loaded, primed, and fired at that very moment—were to blow him in pieces into the planetary world.”

J. T. Maston had lost all self-control. It was hard to say whether he did more shouting, gesturing, eating, or drinking. In any case, he would not have given up his place for an empire. “Not even if the cannon were loaded, primed, and fired at that very moment, blowing him to pieces among the planets.”