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.

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.

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.