by Jules Verne
CHAPTER XVI
THE COLUMBIAD
Had the casting succeeded? They were reduced to mere conjecture.There was indeed every reason to expect success, since the mouldhas absorbed the entire mass of the molten metal; still someconsiderable time must elapse before they could arrive at anycertainty upon the matter.
The patience of the members of the Gun Club was sorely tried duringthis period of time. But they could do nothing. J. T. Mastonescaped roasting by a miracle. Fifteen days after the castingan immense column of smoke was still rising in the open sky andthe ground burned the soles of the feet within a radius of twohundred feet round the summit of Stones Hill. It was impossibleto approach nearer. All they could do was to wait with whatpatience they might.
"Here we are at the 10th of August," exclaimed J. T. Maston onemorning, "only four months to the 1st of December! We shallnever be ready in time!" Barbicane said nothing, but hissilence covered serious irritation.
However, daily observations revealed a certain change going onin the state of the ground. About the 15th of August the vaporsejected had sensibly diminished in intensity and thickness.Some days afterward the earth exhaled only a slight puff ofsmoke, the last breath of the monster enclosed within its circleof stone. Little by little the belt of heat contracted, untilon the 22nd of August, Barbicane, his colleagues, and theengineer were enabled to set foot on the iron sheet which laylevel upon the summit of Stones Hill.
"At last!" exclaimed the president of the Gun Club, with animmense sigh of relief.
The work was resumed the same day. They proceeded at once toextract the interior mould, for the purpose of clearing out theboring of the piece. Pickaxes and boring irons were set to workwithout intermission. The clayey and sandy soils had acquiredextreme hardness under the action of the heat; but, by the aidof the machines, the rubbish on being dug out was rapidly cartedaway on railway wagons; and such was the ardor of the work, sopersuasive the arguments of Barbicane's dollars, that by the 3rdof September all traces of the mould had entirely disappeared.
Immediately the operation of boring was commenced; and by theaid of powerful machines, a few weeks later, the inner surfaceof the immense tube had been rendered perfectly cylindrical, andthe bore of the piece had acquired a thorough polish.
At length, on the 22d of September, less than a twelvemonthafter Barbicane's original proposition, the enormous weapon,accurately bored, and exactly vertically pointed, was readyfor work. There was only the moon now to wait for; and theywere pretty sure that she would not fail in the rendezvous.
The ecstasy of J. T. Maston knew no bounds, and he narrowlyescaped a frightful fall while staring down the tube. But forthe strong hand of Colonel Blomsberry, the worthy secretary,like a modern Erostratus, would have found his death in thedepths of the Columbiad.
The cannon was then finished; there was no possible doubt as toits perfect completion. So, on the 6th of October, CaptainNicholl opened an account between himself and President Barbicane,in which he debited himself to the latter in the sum of twothousand dollars. One may believe that the captain's wrath wasincreased to its highest point, and must have made him seriously ill.However, he had still three bets of three, four, and fivethousand dollars, respectively; and if he gained two out of these,his position would not be very bad. But the money question didnot enter into his calculations; it was the success of his rivalin casting a cannon against which iron plates sixty feet thickwould have been ineffectual, that dealt him a terrible blow.
After the 23rd of September the enclosure of Stones hill wasthrown open to the public; and it will be easily imagined whatwas the concourse of visitors to this spot! There was anincessant flow of people to and from Tampa Town and the place,which resembled a procession, or rather, in fact, a pilgrimage.
It was already clear to be seen that, on the day of theexperiment itself, the aggregate of spectators would be countedby millions; for they were already arriving from all parts ofthe earth upon this narrow strip of promontory. Europe wasemigrating to America.
Up to that time, however, it must be confessed, the curiosityof the numerous comers was but scantily gratified. Most hadcounted upon witnessing the spectacle of the casting, and theywere treated to nothing but smoke. This was sorry food forhungry eyes; but Barbicane would admit no one to that operation.Then ensued grumbling, discontent, murmurs; they blamed thepresident, taxed him with dictatorial conduct. His proceedingswere declared "un-American." There was very nearly a riot roundStones Hill; but Barbicane remained inflexible. When, however,the Columbiad was entirely finished, this state of closed doorscould no longer be maintained; besides it would have been badtaste, 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 moneyout of the public curiosity.
It was something, indeed, to be enabled to contemplate thisimmense Columbiad; but to descend into its depths, this seemedto the Americans the _ne plus ultra_ of earthly felicity.Consequently, there was not one curious spectator who was notwilling to give himself the treat of visiting the interior ofthis great metallic abyss. Baskets suspended from steam-cranespermitted them to satisfy their curiosity. There was aperfect mania. Women, children, old men, all made it a pointof 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 whichpreceded the experiment, the influx of visitors enabled theGun Club to pocket nearly five hundred thousand dollars!
It is needless to say that the first visitors of the Columbiadwere the members of the Gun Club. This privilege was justlyreserved for that illustrious body. The ceremony took place onthe 25th of September. A basket of honor took down thepresident, J. T. Maston, Major Elphinstone, General Morgan,Colonel Blomsberry, and other members of the club, to the numberof ten in all. How hot it was at the bottom of that long tubeof metal! They were half suffocated. But what delight!What ecstasy! A table had been laid with six covers on themassive stone which formed the bottom of the Columbiad, andlighted 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 winesof France flowed in profusion during this splendid repast, servednine hundred feet beneath the surface of the earth!
The festival was animated, not to say somewhat noisy. Toasts flewbackward 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 upwardupon the sonorous waves of the immense acoustic tube, arrived withthe sound of thunder at its mouth; and the multitude ranged roundStones Hill heartily united their shouts with those of the tenrevelers hidden from view at the bottom of the gigantic Columbiad.
J. T. Maston was no longer master of himself. Whether heshouted or gesticulated, ate or drank most, would be a difficultmatter to determine. At all events, he would not have given hisplace up for an empire, "not even if the cannon-- loaded,primed, and fired at that very moment--were to blow him inpieces into the planetary world."
