Two weeks later a second voyage was begun in similar style, and again from the Champ de Mars, this time in the presence of the King of France and the young King George of Greece; but now Nadar took along, not the Princess with the pretty hat, but Madame Nadar, his wife. To entertain the crowd before starting, thirty-two persons were first sent aloft 300 feet and drawn back to earth. Finally at five o’clock Sunday evening, October 18th, a party of nine passengers soared proudly northward, well provisioned as before, and eager for a long voyage. They disappeared in the gathering night, leaving their friends much concerned for their safety and ultimate destination. At half past eight they were over Compiegne, seventy-eight miles away, drifting near the ground to say “All goes well” and have the good tidings transmitted to Paris. At nine they crossed the Belgian frontier; at midnight they were over Holland; at sunrise they skirted the Zuyder Zee and entered Hanover; at eight they were coursing headlong toward Nienburg and the North Sea in the current of a swift west wind.
They were now in great peril. If they went to sea they might all be drowned; if they came to earth at such horizontal speed they should be terribly pounded. Choosing the latter evil, they opened the valve and threw down the grappling irons. “To the ropes,” shouted the Godard brothers. Assembling on deck all clung to the suspension ropes to mitigate the shock of landing. Nadar put his arm about his wife to protect her. The anchors snatching a tree, uprooted and dragged it along; then caught and tore off the roof of a house; threshed into a telegraph line pulling down the wires and poles; struck into some firmer obstacle and broke off completely, leaving the huge monster to sweep unchecked in the violent ground current. Owing to trouble with the valve, the gas could not be liberated quickly; the great vessel again and again plunged to earth and rebounded high in air, its ponderous basket crashing through heavy timber, and breaking down whatever opposed its course. For nine miles they pounded over the plain by Nienburg toward the sea, dashing into pools, bogs and thickets, their limbs sprained or broken, their bodies bruised, their faces splashed with mud. Presently through loss of gas the rebounding ceased, the basket dragged along the earth squeezing some of the passengers beneath it, and dumping others out on the ground, leaving them behind. Those remaining tried to assist Madam Nadar to land, but they were tumbled out and she was caught under the basket from which she was extricated with much difficulty, when the balloon was finally halted. Thus their memorable voyage of seventeen hours, covering 750 miles, had a terrific, though not fatal ending. One had a broken femur, another a dislocated thigh, others numerous scratches and contusions. But no complaint was uttered; for the afflictions were regarded as natural concomitants to such interesting sport. After some days tender nursing by the Germans, and solicitous inquiries from the King of Hanover, they returned to Paris; some indeed on their backs, but for all that, none the less admired by their countrymen, as survivors of a marvelous adventure.