JAMES
GLAISHER (1822–1911)
Extract from Travels
in the Air (1871)
October 9, 1863
Always, however great the height of the balloon, when I have seen
the horizon it has roughly appeared to be on the level of the
car—though of course the dip of the horizon is a very appreciable
quantity—or the same height as the eye. From this one might
infer that, could the earth be seen without a cloud or anything
to obscure it, and the boundary line of the plane approximately
the same height as the eye, the general appearance would be that
of a slight concavity; but I have never seen any part of the surface
of the earth other than as a plane. Towns and cities, when viewed
from the balloon are like models in motion. I shall always remember
the ascent of 9th October, 1863, when we passed over London about
sunset. At the time when we were 7,000 feet high, and directly
over London Bridge, the scene around was one that cannot probably
be equalled in the world. We were still so low as not to have
lost sight of the details of the spectacle which presented itself
to our eyes; and with one glance the homes of 3,000,000 people
could be seen, and so distinct was the view, that every large
building was easily distinguishable. In fact, the whole of London
was visible, and some parts most clearly. All round, the suburbs
were also very distinct, with their lines of detached villas,
imbedded as it were in a mass of shrubs; beyond, the country was
like a garden, its fields, well marked, becoming smaller and smaller
as the eye wandered farther and farther away. Again looking down,
there was the Thames, throughout its whole length, without the
slightest mist, dotted over its winding course with innumerable
ships and steamboats, like moving toys. Gravesend was visible,
also the mouth of the Thames, and the coast around as far as Norfolk.
The southern shore of the mouth of the Thames was not so clear,
but the sea beyond was seen for many miles; when at a higher elevation,
I looked for the coast of France, but was unable to see it. On
looking round, the eye was arrested by the garden-like appearance
of the county of Kent, till again London claimed yet more careful
attention.
Smoke, thin and blue, was curling from it, and
slowly moving away in beautiful curves, from all except
one part, south of the Thames, where it was less blue and
seemed more dense, till the cause became evident; it was mixed
with mist rising from the ground, the southern limit of which
was bounded by an even line, doubtless indicating the meeting
of the subsoils of gravel and clay. The whole scene was surmounted
by a canopy of blue, everywhere free from cloud, except
near the horizon, where a band of cumulus and stratus extended
all round, forming a fitting boundary to such a glorious view.
As seen from the earth, the sunset this evening
was described as fine, the air being clear and the shadows well
defined; but, as we rose to view it and its effects, the golden
hues increased in intensity; their richness decreased as the distance
from the sun increased, both right and left; but still as far
as 90° from the sun, rose-coloured clouds extended. The remainder
of the circle was completed, for the most part, by pure white
cumulus of well-rounded and symmetrical forms.
I
have seen London by night. I have crossed it during the day at
the height of four miles. I have often admired the splendour of
sky scenery, but never have I seen anything which surpassed this
spectacle. The roar of the town heard at this elevation was a
deep, rich, continuous sound—the voice of labour. At four
miles above London, all was hushed; no sound reached our ears.
