CHAPTER XIV. THE HIGHEST ASCENT ON RECORD.

Mr. Glaisher's instrumental outfit was on an elaborate and costly scale,

and the programme of experimental work drawn up for him by the Committee

of the British Association did not err on the side of too much modesty.

In the first place the temperature and moisture of the atmosphere were

to be examined. Observations on mountain sides had determined that

thermometers showed a decrease of 1 degree F. for every 300 feet,

and the accuracy of this law was particularly to be tested. Also,

investigations were to be made as to the distribution of vapour

below the clouds, in them, and above them. Then careful observations

respecting the dew point were to be undertaken at all accessible

heights, and, more particularly, up to those heights where man may be

resident or troops may be located. The comparatively new instrument, the

aneroid barometer, extremely valuable, if only trustworthy, by reason of

its sensibility, portability and safety, was to be tested and compared

with the behaviour of a reliable mercurial barometer. Electrical

conditions were to be examined; the presence of ozone tested; the

vibration of a magnet was again to be resorted to to determine how

far the magnetism of the earth might be affected by height. The solar

spectrum was to be observed; air was to be collected at different

heights for analysis; clouds, also upper currents, were to be reported

on. Further observations were to be made on sound, on solar radiation,

on the actinic action of the sun, and on atmospheric phenomena in

general.

All this must be regarded as a large order where only a very limited

number of ascents were contemplated, and it may be mentioned that some

of the methods of investigation, as, for instance, the use of ozone

papers, would now be generally considered obsolete; while the mechanical

aspiration of thermometers by a stream of air, which, as we have pointed

out, was introduced by Welsh, and which is strongly insisted on at the

present day, was considered unnecessary by Mr. Glaisher in the case

of wet and dry bulb hygrometers. The entire list of instruments,

as minutely described by the talented observer, numbered twenty-two

articles, among which were such irreproachable items as a bottle of

water and a pair of scissors.

The following is a condensed account, gathered from Mr. Glaisher's own

narrative, of his first ascent, which has been already briefly sketched

in these pages by the hand of Mr. Coxwell. Very great difficulties were

experienced in the inflation, which operation appeared as if it would

never be completed, for a terrible W.S.W. wind was constantly blowing,

and the movements of the balloon were so great and so rapid that it was

impossible to fix a single instrument in its position before quitting

the earth, a position of affairs which, says Mr. Glaisher, "was by no

means cheering to a novice who had never before put his foot in the car

of a balloon," and when, at last, at 9.42 a.m., Mr. Coxwell cast off,

there was no upward motion, the car simply dragging on its side till

the expiration of a whole minute, when the balloon lifted, and in six

minutes reached the first cloud at an altitude of 4,467 feet. This cloud

was passed at 5,802 feet, and further cloud encountered at 2,000 feet

further aloft. Four minutes later, the ascent proceeding, the sun shone

out brightly, expanding the balloon into a perfect globe and displaying

a magnificent view, which, however, the incipient voyager did not allow

himself to enjoy until the instruments were arranged in due order, by

which time a height of 10,000 feet was recorded.

Mr. Glaisher apparently now had opportunity for observing the clouds,

which he describes as very beautiful, and he records the hearing of a

band of music at a height of 12,709 feet, which was attained in exactly

twenty minutes from the start. A minute later the earth was sighted

through a break in the clouds, and at 16,914 feet the clouds were

far below, the sky above being perfectly cloudless, and of an intense

Prussian blue.

By this time Mr. Glaisher had received his first surprise, as imparted

by the record of his instruments. At starting, the temperature of the

air had stood at 59 degrees. Then at 4,000 feet this was reduced to 45

degrees; and, further, to 26 degrees at 10,000 feet, when it remained

stationary through an ascent of 3,000 feet more, during which period

both travellers added to their clothing, anticipating much accession of

cold. However, at 15,500 feet the temperature had actually risen to 31

degrees, increasing to no less than 42 degrees at 19,500 feet.

Astonishing as this discovery was, it was not the end of the wonder,

for two minutes later, on somewhat descending, the temperature commenced

decreasing so rapidly as to show a fall of 27 degrees in 26 minutes.

As to personal experiences, Mr. Glaisher should be left to tell his

own story. "At the height of 18,844 feet 18 vibrations of a horizontal

magnet occupied 26.8 seconds, and at the same height my pulse beat at

the rate of 100 pulsations per minute. At 19,415 feet palpitation of

the heart became perceptible, the beating of the chronometer seemed

very loud, and my breathing became affected. At 19,435 feet my pulse had

accelerated, and it was with increasing difficulty that I could read

the instruments; the palpitation of the heart was very perceptible; the

hands and lips assumed a dark bluish colour, but not the face. At 20,238

feet 28 vibrations of a horizontal magnet occupied 43 seconds. At 21,792

feet I experienced a feeling analogous to sea-sickness, though there was

neither pitching nor rolling in the balloon, and through this illness I

was unable to watch the instrument long enough to lower the temperature

to get a deposit of dew. The sky at this elevation was of a very

deep blue colour, and the clouds were far below us. At 22,357 feet I

endeavoured to make the magnet vibrate, but could not; it moved through

arcs of about 20 degrees, and then settled suddenly.

"Our descent began a little after 11 a.m., Mr. Coxwell experiencing

considerable uneasiness at our too close vicinity to the Wash. We came

down quickly from a height of 16,300 feet to one of 12,400 feet in one

minute; at this elevation we entered into a dense cloud which proved to

be no less than 8,000 feet in thickness and whilst passing through this

the balloon was invisible from the car. From the rapidity of the descent

the balloon assumed the shape of a parachute, and though Mr. Coxwell had

reserved a large amount of ballast, which he discharged as quickly as

possible, we collected so much weight by the condensation of the immense

amount of vapour through which we passed that, notwithstanding all his

exertions, we came to the earth with a very considerable shock, which

broke nearly all the instruments.... The descent took place at Langham,

near Oakham."

Just a month later Mr. Glaisher, bent on a yet loftier climb, made

his second ascent, again under Mr. Coxwell's guidance, and again from

Wolverhampton. Besides attending to his instruments he found leisure to

make other chance notes by the way. He was particularly struck by the

beauty of masses of cloud, which, by the time 12,000 feet were reached,

were far below, "presenting at times mountain scenes of endless variety

and grandeur, while fine dome-like clouds dazzled and charmed the eye

with alternations and brilliant effects of light and shade."

When a height of about 20,000 feet had been reached thunder was heard

twice over, coming from below, though no clouds could be seen. A height

of 4,000 feet more was attained, and shortly after this Mr. Glaisher

speaks of feeling unwell. It was difficult to obtain a deposit of dew

on the hygrometer, and the working of the aspirator became troublesome.

While in this region a sound like that of loud thunder came from the

sky. Observations were practically completed at this point, and a speedy

and safe return to earth was effected, the landing being at Solihull,

seven miles from Birmingham.

It was on the 5th of September following that the same two colleagues

carried out an exploit which will always stand alone in the history of

aeronautics, namely, that of ascending to an altitude which, based on

the best estimate they were able to make, they calculated to be no less

than seven miles. Whatever error may have unavoidably come into the

actual estimate, which is to some extent conjectural, is in reality a

small matter, not the least affecting the fact that the feat in itself

will probably remain without a parallel of its kind. In these days,

when aeronauts attempt to reach an exceptionally lofty altitude, they

invariably provide themselves with a cylinder of oxygen gas to meet

the special emergencies of the situation, so that when regions of such

attenuated air are reached that the action of heart and lungs becomes

seriously affected, it is still within their power to inhale the

life-giving gas which affords the greatest available restorative to

their energies. Forty years ago, however, cylinders of compressed oxygen

gas were not available, and on this account alone we may state without

hesitation that the enterprise which follows stands unparalleled at the

present hour.

The filling station at Wolverhampton was quitted at 1.3 p.m., the

temperature of the air being 59 degrees on the ground, and falling to 41

degrees at an altitude of 5,000 feet, directly after which a dense cloud

was entered, which brought the temperature down to 36 degrees. At this

elevation the report of a gun was heard. Here Mr. Glaisher attempted

(probably for the first time in history) to take a cloud-scape

photograph, the illumination being brilliant, and the plates with which

he was furnished being considered extremely sensitive. The attempt,

however, was unsuccessful. The height of two miles was reached in 19

minutes, and here the temperature was at freezing point. In six minutes

later three miles was reached, and the thermometer was down to 18

degrees. In another twelve minutes four miles was attained, with the

thermometer recording 8 degrees, and by further discharge of sand the

fifth aerial milestone was passed at 1.50 p.m., i.e. in 47 minutes from

the start, with the thermometer 2 degrees below zero.

Mr. Glaisher relates that up to this point he had taken observations

with comfort, and experienced no trouble in respiration, whilst Mr.

Coxwell, in consequence of the exertions he had to make, was breathing

with difficulty. More sand was now thrown out, and as the balloon rose

higher Mr. Glaisher states that he found some difficulty in seeing

clearly. But from this point his experiences should be gathered from his

own words:--

"About 1.52 p.m., or later, I read the dry bulb thermometer as minus

five; after this I could not see the column of mercury in the wet bulb

thermometer, nor the hands of the watch, nor the fine divisions on any

instrument. I asked Mr. Coxwell to help me to read the instruments. In

consequence, however, of the rotatory motion of the balloon, which had

continued without ceasing since leaving the earth, the valve line had

become entangled, and he had to leave the car and mount into the ring to

readjust it. I then looked at the barometer, and found its reading to be

9 3/4 inches, still decreasing fast, implying a height exceeding 29,000

feet. Shortly after, I laid my arm upon the table, possessed of its full

vigour; but on being desirous of using it I found it powerless--it must

have lost its power momentarily. Trying to move the other arm, I found

it powerless also. Then I tried to shake myself, and succeeded, but I

seemed to have no limbs. In looking at the barometer my head fell over

my left shoulder. I struggled and shook my body again, but could not

move my arms. Getting my head upright for an instant only, it fell on my

right shoulder; then I fell backwards, my back resting against the

side of the car and my head on its edge. In this position my eyes were

directed to Mr. Coxwell in the ring. When I shook my body I seemed to

have full power over the muscles of the back, and considerably so over

those of the neck, but none over either my arms or my legs. As in the

case of the arms, so all muscular power was lost in an instant from my

back and neck. I dimly saw Mr. Coxwell, and endeavoured to speak, but

could not. In an instant intense darkness overcame me, so that the optic

nerve lost power suddenly; but I was still conscious, with as active a

brain as at the present moment whilst writing this. I thought I had been

seized with asphyxia, and believed I should experience nothing more,

as death would come unless we speedily descended. Other thoughts were

entering my mind when I suddenly became unconscious, as on going to

sleep. I cannot tell anything of the sense of hearing, as no sound

reaches the ear to break the perfect stillness and silence of the

regions between six and seven miles above the earth. My last observation

was made at 1.54 p.m., above 29,000 feet. I suppose two or three minutes

to have elapsed between my eyes becoming insensible to seeing fine

divisions and 1.54 p.m., and then two or three minutes more to have

passed till I was insensible, which I think, therefore, took place about

1.56 p.m. or 1.57 p.m.

"Whilst powerless, I heard the words 'Temperature' and 'Observation,'

and I knew Mr. Coxwell was in the car speaking to and endeavouring to

rouse me--therefore consciousness and hearing had returned. I then heard

him speak more emphatically, but could not see, speak, or move. I heard

him again say, 'Do try, now do!' Then the instruments became dimly

visible, then Mr. Coxwell, and very shortly I saw clearly. Next, I arose

in my seat and looked around, as though waking from sleep, though not

refreshed, and said to Mr. Coxwell, 'I have been insensible.' He said,

'You have, and I too, very nearly.' I then drew up my legs, which had

been extended, and took a pencil in my hand to begin observations. Mr.

Coxwell told me that he had lost the use of his hands, which were black,

and I poured brandy over them."

Mr. Glaisher considers that he must have been totally insensible for

a period of about seven minutes, at the end of which time the water

reserved for the wet bulb thermometer, which he had carefully kept

from freezing, had become a solid block of ice. Mr. Coxwell's hands had

become frostbitten, so that, being in the ring and desirous of coming to

his friend's assistance, he was forced to rest his arms on the ring

and drop down. Even then, the table being in the way, he was unable to

approach, and, feeling insensibility stealing over himself, he became

anxious to open the valve. "But in consequence of having lost the use of

his hands he could not do this. Ultimately he succeeded by seizing the

cord in his teeth and dipping his head two or three times until the

balloon took a decided turn downwards." Mr. Glaisher adds that no

inconvenience followed his insensibility, and presently dropping in a

country where no conveyance of any kind could be obtained, he was able

to walk between seven and eight miles.

The interesting question of the actual height attained is thus discussed

by Mr. Glaisher:--"I have already said that my last observation was made

at a height of 29,000 feet. At this time, 1.54 p.m., we were ascending

at the rate of 1,000 feet per minute, and when I resumed observations

we were descending at the rate of 2,000 feet per minute. These two

positions must be connected, taking into account the interval of time

between, namely, thirteen minutes; and on these considerations the

balloon must have attained the altitude of 36,000 or 37,000 feet. Again,

a very delicate minimum thermometer read minus 11.9, and this would give

a height of 37,000 feet. Mr. Coxwell, on coming from the ring, noticed

that the centre of the aneroid barometer, its blue hand, and a rope

attached to the car, were all in the same straight line, and this gave a

reading of seven inches, and leads to the same result. Therefore, these

independent means all lead to about the same elevation, namely, fully

seven miles."

So far we have followed Mr. Glaisher's account only, but Mr. Coxwell has

added testimony of his own to this remarkable adventure, which renders

the narrative more complete. He speaks of the continued rotation of the

balloon and the necessity for mounting into the ring to get possession

of the valve line. "I had previously," he adds, "taken off a thick pair

of gloves so as to be the better able to manipulate the sand-bags, and

the moment my unprotected hands rested on the ring, which retained the

temperature of the air, I found that they were frost-bitten; but I did

manage to bring down with me the valve line, after noticing the hand of

the aneroid barometer, and it was not long before I succeeded in opening

the shutters in the way described by Mr. Glaisher.... Again, on letting

off more gas, I perceived that the lower part of the balloon was rapidly

shrinking, and I heard a sighing, as if it were in the network and the

ruffled surface of the cloth. I then looked round, although it seemed

advisable to let off more gas, to see if I could in any way assist Mr.

Glaisher, but the table of instruments blocked the way, and I could not,

with disabled hands, pass beneath. My last hope, then, was in seeking

the restorative effects of a warmer stratum of atmosphere.... Again

I tugged at the valve line, taking stock, meanwhile, of the reserve

ballast in store, and this, happily, was ample.

"Never shall I forget those painful moments of doubt and suspense as to

Mr. Glaisher's fate, when no response came to my questions. I began

to fear that he would never take any more readings. I could feel the

reviving effects of a warmer temperature, and wondered that no signs of

animation were noticeable. The hand of the aneroid that I had looked

at was fast moving, while the under part of the balloon had risen high

above the car. I had looked towards the earth, and felt the rush of air

as it passed upwards, but was still in despair when Mr. Glaisher gasped

with a sigh, and the next moment he drew himself up and looked at me

rather in confusion, and said he had been insensible, but did not seem

to have any clear idea of how long until he caught up his pencil and

noted the time and the reading of the instruments."

The descent, which was at first very rapid, was effected without

difficulty at Cold Weston.

The Dominion of the Air: The Story of Aerial Navigation · 第 14 / 28 章