LEWISTON – Balloons are nothing new in the Twin Cities.

One of the earliest to float serenely overhead provided a quiet interlude to an especially rowdy Fourth of July celebration in 1893, a party so out-of-hand that residents of Auburn were said to be “tearing things to eternal smithereens” in their quest for a good time.

A Lewiston Evening Journal drawing of a balloon that took off from City Park on the Fourth of July, 1893 to the general merriment of a large crowd.

In New Auburn, in fact, they burned in effigy “a respectable citizen” who had dared raise an objection to “firecrackers, cannons, horns and all the sheolic [hellish] devices to drive a nervous man to despair,” the Lewiston Evening Journal noted.

Somebody even tied a huge steam whistle open so that it screamed constantly from the top of the Roak Block in downtown Auburn.

Fortunately, the balloon provided a respite from the chaos of the day.

According to the Journal’s account, provided under a headline calling the balloon “A Modern Miracle,” it “behaved respectably” and ascended like a dove – save that it was yellow, not white – and “came down like a sensible balloon, not so puffed up as it was when it ascended.”

An immense crowd gathered at 2 p.m. in City Park, now known as Kennedy Park, to see balloonist Edward Burnett of Providence, Rhode Island, ascend in his craft.

Unfortunately, it was raining hard enough that a Journal reporter took cover at the nearby DeWitt Hotel – an ever-present obstacle to balloon planning – so things got delayed a bit. Burnett also had some trouble filling his bag with enough hot air.

He solved the problem, though, by leaving the basket behind as he secured himself with ropes dangling from the balloon about 12 minutes after the scheduled launch time. By 2:17, he gave the signal to a Capt. Allen to let go of another rope holding the craft to the ground.

And off Burnett went.

He yelled goodbye and waved his hat to several thousand people gathered about to see him off.

“The balloon rose gracefully,” the Journal said, and cleared the trees and a protruding flagpole with room to spare.

A mild breeze took the balloon about a mile to the north as it slowly rose. Then it suddenly began moving toward the southeast as Burnett became too tiny a figure to see in the distant sky.

About 2:45, someone in Sabattus phoned the Journal to advise a balloon was passing overhead. By then, the craft was already out of eyesight from downtown rooftops.

It came down about 15 minutes later at J.K. Rideout’s farm in Bowdoin. Burnett returned to Lewiston on the evening train.

The Journal said the balloon ascent cost organizers $460 but it was money well spent.

“It isn’t often the people of Western Maine have an opportunity of seeing so successful an exhibition of this kind,” it concluded.