about 2 a.m.
And yet the only question was that of sending a projectile -- a rather brutal way of entering into communication even with a satellite , but much in vogue amongst civilised nations . Midnight had just struck , and the enthusiasm did not diminish ; it was kept up in equal doses in all classes of the population ; magistrates , _ savants _ , merchants , tradesmen , street-porters , intelligent as well as `` green '' men were moved even in their most delicate fibres . It was a national enterprise ; the high town , low town , the quays bathed by the waters of the Patapsco , the ships , imprisoned in their docks , overflowed with crowds intoxicated with joy , gin , and whisky ; everybody talked , argued , perorated , disputed , approved , and applauded , from the gentleman comfortably stretched on the bar-room couch before his glass of `` sherry-cobbler '' to the waterman who got drunk upon `` knock-me-down '' in the dark taverns of Fell 's Point . However , about 2 a.m. the emotion became calmer . President Barbicane succeeded in getting home almost knocked to pieces . A Hercules could not have resisted such enthusiasm . The crowd gradually abandoned the squares and streets .