Footnote 1:
p. 1—“_The Lake of Tacarigua_.”
On advancing through the interior of South America, from the coast of
Caracas or of Venezuela towards the Brazilian frontier (from the 10th
degree of north latitude to the equator), the traveller first passes a
lofty chain of mountains (the littoral chain of Caracas) inclining
from west to east; next vast treeless Steppes or plains (_Los
Llanos_), which extend from the foot of the littoral chain to the left
bank of the Orinoco; and, lastly, the mountain range which gives rise
to the cataracts of Atures and Maypure. This mountain chain, which I
have named the Sierra Parime, passes in an easterly direction between
the sources of the Rio Branco and Rio Esquibo, in the direction of
Dutch and French Guiana. This region, which is the seat of the
marvellous myths of the Dorado, and is composed of a mountain mass,
divided into numerous gridiron-like ridges, is bounded on the south by
the woody plain through which the Rio Negro and the Amazon have formed
themselves a channel. Those who would seek further instruction
regarding these geographical relations, may compare the large chart of
La Cruz Olmedilla (1775), which has served as the basis of nearly all
the more modern maps of South America, with that of Columbia, which I
drew up in accordance with my own astronomical determinations of
place, and published in the year 1825.
The littoral chain of Venezuela is, geographically considered, a
portion of the Peruvian Andes. These are divided at the great mountain
node of the sources of the Magdalena (lat. 1° 55′ to 2° 20′) into
three chains, running to the south of Popayan, the easternmost of
which extends into the snowy mountains of Merida. These mountains
gradually decline towards the Paramo de las Rosas into the hilly
district of Quibor and Tocuyo, which connects the littoral chain of
Venezuela with the Cordilleras of Cundinamarca.
This littoral chain extends murally and uninterruptedly from
Portocabello to the promontory of Paria. Its mean elevation is
scarcely 750 toises, or 4796 English feet; but some few summits, like
the Silla de Caracas (also called the Cerro de Avila), which is
adorned with the purple-flowering Befaria (the red-blossomed American
Alpine rose), rise 1350 toises, or 8633 English feet above the level
of the sea. The coast of the Terra Firma everywhere bears traces of
devastation, giving evidence of the action of the great current which
runs from east to west, and which, after the disintegration of the
Caribbean Islands, formed the present Sea of the Antilles. The tongues
of land of Araya and Chuparipari, and more especially the coasts of
Cumana and New Barcelona, present to the geologist a remarkable
aspect. The rocky islands of Boracha, Caracas, and Chimanas rise like
beacon-towers from the sea, affording evidence of the fearful
irruption of the waters against the shattered mountain chain. The Sea
of the Antilles may once have been an inland sea, like the
Mediterranean, which has suddenly been connected with the ocean. The
islands of Cuba, Hayti, and Jamaica still exhibit the remains of the
mountains of micaceous schist which formed the northern boundary of
this lake. It is a remarkable fact that the highest peaks are situated
at the very point where these islands approach one another the
closest. It may be conjectured that the principal nucleus of the chain
was situated between Cape Tiburon and Morant Point. The height of the
copper mountains (montañas de cobre) near Saint Iago de Cuba has not
yet been measured, but this range is probably higher than the Blue
Mountains of Jamaica (1138 toises, or 7277 English feet), whose
elevation somewhat exceeds that of the Pass of St. Gothard. I have
already expressed my conjectures more fully regarding the valley-like
form of the Atlantic Ocean, and the ancient connection of the
continents, in a treatise written at Cumana, entitled _Fragment d’un
Tableau géologique de l’Amérique méridionale_, which appeared in the
_Journal de Physique, Messidor, an_ IX. It is remarkable that Columbus
himself makes mention, in his official report, of the connection
between the course of the equinoctial current and the form of the
coast-line of the Greater Antilles.[H]
The northern and more cultivated portion of the province of Caracas is
a mountainous region. The marginal chain is divided, like that of the
Swiss Alps, into many ranges, enclosing longitudinal valleys. The most
remarkable among these is the charming valley of Aragua, which
produces an abundance of indigo, sugar, and cotton, and, what is
perhaps the most singular of all, even European wheat. The southern
margin of this valley is bounded by the beautiful Lake of Valencia,
the ancient Indian name of which was Tacarigua. The contrast presented
by its opposite shores gives it a striking resemblance to the Lake of
Geneva. The barren mountains of Guigue and Guiripa have indeed less
grandeur and solemnity of character than the Savoy Alps; but, on the
other hand, the opposite shore, which is covered with bananas, mimosæ,
and triplaris, far surpasses in picturesque beauty the vineyards of
the Pays de Vaud. The lake is 10 leagues, (of which 20 form a degree
of the Equator), _i.e._, about 30 geographical miles, in length, and
is thickly studded with small islands, which continually increase in
size, owing to the evaporation being greater than the influx of fresh
water. Within the last few years several sandbanks have even become
true islands, and have acquired the significant name of _Las
Aparecidas_, or the “_Newly Appeared_.” On the island of Cura the
remarkable species of solanum is cultivated, which has edible fruit,
and has been described by Willdenow (in his _Hortus Berolinensis_,
1816, Tab. xxvii.). The elevation of the Lake of Tacarigua above the
level of the sea is almost 1400 French feet (according to my
measurement, exactly 230 toises, _i.e._, 1471 English feet) less than
the mean height of the valley of Caracas. This lake has several
species of fish peculiar to itself,[I] and ranks among the most
beautiful and attractive natural scenes that I am acquainted with in
any part of the earth. When bathing, Bonpland and myself were often
terrified by the appearance of the _Bava_, a species of
crocodile-lizard (_Dragonne?_), hitherto undescribed, from three to
four feet in length, of repulsive aspect, but harmless to man. We
found in the Lake of Valencia a _Typha_, perfectly identical with the
European bulrush, the _Typha angustifolia_—a singular and highly
important fact in reference to the geography of plants.
In the valleys of Aragua, skirting the lake, both varieties of the
sugar-cane are cultivated, viz., the common _Caña criolla_, and the
species newly introduced from the South Sea, the _Caña de Otaheiti_.
The latter variety is of a far lighter and more beautiful green, and a
field of it may be distinguished from the common sugar-cane at a great
distance. Cook and George Forster were the first to describe it; but
it would appear, from Forster’s treatise on the edible plants of the
South Sea Islands, that they were but little acquainted with the true
value of this important product. Bougainville brought it to the Isle
of France, whence it passed to Cayenne and (subsequently to the year
1792) to Martinique, Saint Domingo or Haiti, and many of the Lesser
Antilles. The enterprising but unfortunate Captain Bligh transported
it, together with the bread-fruit tree, to Jamaica. From Trinidad, an
island contiguous to the continent, the new sugar-cane of the South
Sea passed to the neighbouring coasts of Caracas. Here it has become
of greater importance than the bread-fruit tree, which will probably
never supersede so valuable and nutritious a plant as the banana. The
Tahitian sugar-cane is more succulent than the common species, which
is generally supposed to be a native of Eastern Asia. It likewise
yields one-third more sugar on the same area than the _Caña criolla_,
which is thinner in its stalk, and more crowded with joints. As,
moreover, the West Indian Islands are beginning to suffer great
scarcity of fuel (on the island of Cuba the sugar-pans are heated with
orange-wood), the new plant acquires additional value from the fact of
its yielding a thicker and more ligneous cane (_bagaso_). If the
introduction of this new product had not been nearly simultaneous with
the outbreak of the sanguinary Negro war in St. Domingo, the prices of
sugar in Europe would have risen even higher than they did, owing to
the interruption occasioned to agriculture and trade. The important
question which here arises, whether the sugar-cane of Otaheiti, when
removed from its indigenous soil, will not gradually degenerate and
merge into the common sugar-cane, has been decided in the negative,
from the experience hitherto obtained on this subject. In the island
of Cuba a _caballeria_, that is to say, an area of 34,969 square
toises (nearly 33 English acres), produces 870 cwt. of sugar, if it be
planted with the Tahitian sugar-cane. It is remarkable enough that
this important product of the South Sea Islands should be cultivated
precisely in that portion of the Spanish colonies which is most remote
from the South Sea. The voyage from the Peruvian shore to Otaheiti may
be made in twenty-five days, and yet, at the period of my travels in
Peru and Chili, the Tahitian sugar-cane was not yet known in those
provinces. The natives of Easter Island, who suffer great distress
from want of fresh water, drink the juice of the sugar-cane, and, what
is very remarkable in a physiological point of view, likewise
sea-water. On the Society, Friendly, and Sandwich Islands, the light
green and thick stemmed sugar-cane is everywhere cultivated.
In addition to the _Caña de Otaheiti_ and the _Caña criolla_, a
reddish African sugar-cane is cultivated in the West Indies, which is
known as the _Caña de Guinea_. It is less succulent than the common
Asiatic variety, but its juice is esteemed especially well adapted for
the preparation of rum.
In the province of Caracas the light green of the Tahitian sugar-cane
forms a beautiful contrast with the dark shade of the cacao
plantations. Few tropical trees have so thick a foliage as the
_Theobroma Cacao_. This noble tree thrives best in hot and humid
valleys. Extreme fertility of soil and insalubrity of atmosphere are
as inseparably connected in South America as in Southern Asia. Nay, it
has even been observed that in proportion as the cultivation of the
land increases, and the woods are removed, the soil and the climate
become less humid, and the cacao plantations thrive less luxuriantly.
But while they diminish in numbers in the province of Caracas, they
spread rapidly in the eastern provinces of New Barcelona and Cumana,
more especially in the humid woody region lying between Cariaco and
the Golfo Triste.
Footnote 2:
p. 1—“_The natives term this phenomenon ‘banks.’_”
The Llanos of Caracas are covered with a widely-extended formation of
ancient conglomerate. On passing from the valleys of Aragua over the
most southern range of the coast chain of Guigue and Villa de Cura,
descending towards Parapara, the traveller meets successively with
strata of gneiss and micaceous schist, a probably _Silurian_
transition rock of argillaceous schist and black limestone; serpentine
and greenstone in detached spheroidal masses; and lastly, on the
margin of the great plain, small elevations of augitic amygdaloid and
porphyritic schist. These hills between Parapara and Ortiz appear to
me to be produced by volcanic eruptions on the old sea-shore of the
Llanos. Further to the north, rise the far-famed cavernous and
grotesquely-shaped elevations known as the Morros de San Juan, which
form a species of devil’s dyke, the grain of which is crystalline,
like upheaved dolomite. They are, therefore, to be regarded rather as
portions of the shore than as islands in the ancient gulf. I consider
the Llanos to have been a gulf, for when their inconsiderable
elevation above the present sea level, the adaptation of their form to
the rotation current, running from east to west, and the lowness of
the eastern shore between the mouth of the Orinoco and the Essequibo
are taken into account, it can scarcely be doubted that the sea once
overflowed the whole of this basin between the coast chain and the
Sierra de la Parime, extending westward to the mountains of Merida and
Pamplona (in the same manner as it probably passed through the plains
of Lombardy to the Cottian and Pennine Alps). Moreover, the
inclination or line of strike of these Llanos is directed from west to
east. Their elevation at Calabozo, a distance of 100 geographical (400
English) miles from the sea, scarcely amounts to 30 toises, or 192
English feet; consequently 15 toises (96 English feet) less than the
elevation of Pavia, and 45 toises (288 English feet) less than that of
Milan in the plain of Lombardy between the Swiss Lepontine Alps and
the Ligurian Apennines. This conformation of the land reminds us of
Claudian’s expression, “curvata tumore parvo planities.” The surface
of the Llanos is so perfectly horizontal that in many parts over an
area of some 480 English square miles, not a single point appears
elevated one foot above the surrounding level. When it is further
borne in mind that there is a total absence of all shrubs, and that in
some parts, as in the Mesa de Pavones, there is not even a solitary
palm-tree to be seen, it may easily be supposed that this sea-like and
dreary plain presents a most singular aspect. Far as the eye can
range, it scarcely rests on any object elevated many inches above the
general level. If the boundary of the horizon did not continually
present an undefined flickering and undulating outline, owing to the
condition of the lower strata of air, and the refraction of light,
solar elevations might be determined by the sextant above the margin
of the plain as above the horizon of the sea. This perfect flatness of
the ancient sea-bottom renders the _banks_ even more striking. They
are composed of broken floetz-strata, which rise abruptly about two or
three feet above the surrounding level, and extend uniformly over a
length of from 10 to 12 geographical (_i.e._, 40 to 48 English) miles.
It is here that the small rivers of the Steppe take their origin.
On our return from the Rio Negro, we frequently met with traces of
landslips in passing over the Llanos of Barcelona. We here found in
the place of elevated banks, isolated strata of gypsum lying from 3 to
4 toises, or 19 to 25 English feet, below the contiguous rock. Further
westward, near the confluence of the River Caura and the Orinoco, a
large tract of thickly grown forest land to the east of the Mission of
San Pedro de Alcantara, fell in after an earthquake in the year 1790.
A lake was immediately formed in the plain, which measured upwards of
300 toises (1919 feet) in diameter. The lofty trees, as the
Desmanthus, Hymenæa, and Malpighia, retained their verdure and foliage
for a long time after their submersion.
Footnote 3:
p. 2—“_A shoreless ocean seems spread before us_.”
The distant aspect of the Steppe is the more striking when the
traveller emerges from dense forests, where his eye has been
familiarised to a limited prospect and luxuriant natural scenery. I
shall ever retain an indelible impression of the effect produced on my
mind by the Llanos, when, on our return from the Upper Orinoco, they
first broke on our view from a distant mountain, opposite the mouth of
the Rio Apure, near the Hato del Capuchino. The last rays of the
setting sun illumined the Steppe, which seemed to swell before us like
some vast hemisphere, while the rising stars were refracted by the
lower stratum of the atmosphere. When the plain has been excessively
heated by the vertical rays of the sun, the evolution of the radiating
heat, the ascent of currents of air, and the contact of atmospheric
strata of unequal density, continue throughout the night.
Footnote 4:
p. 2—“_The naked stony crust_.”
The deserts of Africa and Asia acquire a peculiar character from the
frequent occurrence of immense tracts of land, covered by one flat
uniform surface of naked rock. In the Scha-mo, which separates
Mongolia and the mountain chain of Ulangom and Malakha-Oola from the
north-west part of China, such rocky banks are termed _Tsy_. In the
woody plains of the Orinoco they are found to be surrounded with the
most luxuriant vegetation.[J] In the midst of these flat, tabular
masses of granite and syenite, several thousands of feet in diameter,
presenting merely a few scattered lichens, we find in the forests, or
on their margins, little islands of light soil, covered with low and
ever-flowering plants, having the appearance of small gardens. The
monks settled on the Upper Orinoco, singularly enough regard the whole
of these horizontal naked stony plains, when extending over a
considerable area, as conducive to fevers and other diseases. Many of
the villages belonging to the mission have been transferred to other
spots on account of the general prevalence of this opinion. Do these
stony flats (_laxas_) act chemically on the atmosphere or influence it
only by means of a greater radiation of heat?
Footnote 5:
p. 2—“_Compared with the Llanos and Pampas of South America, or even
with the Prairies on the Missouri_.”
Our physical and geognostic knowledge of the western mountain region
of North America has recently been enriched by the acquisition of many
accurate data yielded by the admirable labours of the enterprising
traveller Major Long, and his companion Edwin James, but more
especially by the comprehensive investigations of Captain Frémont. The
knowledge thus established clearly corroborates the accuracy of the
different facts which in my work on New Spain I could merely advance
as hypothetical conjectures regarding the northern plains and
mountains of America. In natural history, as well as in historical
research, facts remain isolated until by long-continued investigation
they are brought into connection with each other.
The eastern shore of the United States of North America inclines from
south-west to north-east, as does the Brazilian coast south of the
equator from the Rio de la Plata to Olinda. On both these regions
there rise, at a short distance from the coast line, two ranges of
mountains more nearly parallel to each other than to the western
Andes, (the Cordilleras of Chili and Peru), or to the North Mexican
chain of the Rocky Mountains. The South American or Brazilian mountain
system, forms an isolated group, the highest points of which,
Itacolumi and Itambe, do not rise above an elevation of 900 toises, or
5755 English feet. The eastern portion of the ridge most contiguous to
the sea is the only part that follows a regular inclination from
S.S.W. to N.N.E., increasing in breadth and diminishing in general
elevation as it approaches further westward. The chain of the Parecis
hills approximates to the rivers Itenes and Guaporé, in the same
manner as the mountains of Aguapehi and San Fernando (south of
Villabella) approach the lofty Andes of Cochabamba and Santa Cruz de
la Sierra.
There is no direct connection between the two mountain systems of the
Atlantic and South-sea coasts (the Brazilian and the Peruvian
Cordilleras); Western Brazil being separated from Eastern or Upper
Peru by the low lands of the province of Chiquitos, which is a
longitudinal valley that inclines from north to south, and
communicates both with the plains of the Amazon and of the Rio de la
Plata. In these regions, as in Poland and Russia, a ridge of land,
sometimes imperceptible (termed in Slavonic _Uwaly_), forms the line
of separation between different rivers; as for instance, between the
Pilcomayo and Madeira, between the Aguapehi and Guaporé, and between
the Paraguay and the Rio Topayos. The ridge (_seuil_) extends from
Chayanta and Pomabamba (19°–20° lat.,) in a south-easterly direction,
and after intersecting the depressed tracts of the province of
Chiquitos, (which has become almost unknown to geographers since the
expulsion of the Jesuits,) forms to the north-east, where some
scattered mountains are again to be met with, the _divortia aquarum_
at the sources of the Baures and near Villabella (15°–17° lat.)
This water-line of separation which is so important to the general
intercourse and growing civilization of different nations corresponds
in the northern hemisphere of South America with a second line of
demarcation (2°–3° lat.) which separates the district of the Orinoco
from that of the Rio Negro and the Amazon. These elevations or risings
in the midst of the plains (_terræ tumores_, according to Frontinus)
may almost be regarded as undeveloped mountain-systems, designed to
connect two apparently isolated groups, the Sierra Parime and the
Brazilian highlands, to the Andes chain of Timana and Cochabamba.
These relations, to which very little attention has hitherto been
directed, form the basis of my division of South America into three
depressions or basins, viz., those of the Orinoco in its lower course,
of the Amazon, and of the Rio de la Plata. Of these three basins, the
exterior ones, as I have already observed, are Steppes or Prairies;
but the central one between the Sierra Parime and the Brazilian chain
of mountains must be regarded as a wooded plain or _Hylæa_.
In endeavouring by a few equally brief touches to give a sketch of the
natural features of North America, we must first glance at the chain
of the Andes, which, narrow at its origin, soon increases in height
and breadth as it follows an inclination from south-east to
north-west, passing through Panama, Veragua, Guatimala, and New Spain.
This range of mountains, formerly the seat of an ancient civilization,
presents a like barrier to the general current of the sea between the
tropics, and to a more rapid intercommunication between Europe,
Western Africa, and Eastern Asia. From the 17th degree of latitude at
the celebrated Isthmus of Tehuantepec, the chain deflects from the
shores of the Pacific, and inclining from south to north becomes an
inland Cordillera. In Northern Mexico, the Crane Mountains (Sierra de
las Grullas) constitute a portion of the Rocky Mountains. On their
western declivity rise the Columbia and the Rio Colorado of
California; on the eastern side the Rio Roxo of Natchitoches, the
Canadian river, the Arkansas, and the shallow river Platte, which
latter has recently been converted by some ignorant geographers, into
a Rio _de la Plata_, or a river yielding silver. Between the sources
of these rivers rise in the parallels of 37° 20′ and 40° 13′ lat.,
three huge peaks composed of granite, containing little mica, but a
large proportion of hornblende. These have been respectively named
Spanish Peak, James or Pike’s Peak, and Big Horn or Long’s Peak.[K]
Their elevation exceeds that of the highest summits of the North
Mexican Andes, which indeed nowhere attain the height of the line of
perpetual snow from the parallels of 18° and 19° lat., or from the
group of Orizaba, (2717 toises, or 17,374 English feet), and of
Popocatepetl (2771 toises, or 17,720 English feet) to Santa Fé and
Taos in New Mexico. James’ Peak (38° 48′ lat.) is said to have an
elevation of 11,497 English feet. Of this only 8537 feet have been
determined by trigonometrical measurement, the remainder being deduced
in the absence of barometrical observations, from uncertain
calculations of the declivity or fall of rivers. As it is scarcely
ever possible, even at the level of the sea, to conduct a purely
trigonometrical measurement, determinations of impracticable heights
are always in part barometrical. Measurements of the fall of rivers,
of their rapidity and of the length of their course, are so deceptive,
that the plain at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, more especially
near those summits mentioned in the text, was, before the important
expedition of Captain Frémont, estimated sometimes at 8000 and
sometimes at 3000 feet above the level of the sea.[L] From a similar
deficiency of barometrical measurements, the true height of the
Himalaya remained for a long time uncertain; now, however, science has
made such advances in India, that when Captain Gerard had ascended on
the Tarhigang, near the Sutledge, north of Shipke, to the height of
19,411 feet, he still had, after having broken three barometers, four
equally correct ones remaining.[M]
Frémont, in the expedition which he made between the years 1842 and
1844, at the command of the United States Government, discovered and
measured barometrically the highest peak of the whole chain of the
Rocky Mountains to the north-north-west of Spanish, James’, Long’s,
and Laramie’s Peaks. This snow-covered summit, which belongs to the
group of the Wind River Mountains, bears the name of Frémont’s Peak on
the great chart published under the direction of Colonel Abert, chief
of the topographical department at Washington. This point is situated
in the parallel of 43° 10′ north lat., and 110° 7′ west long., and
therefore nearly 5° 30′ north of Spanish Peak. The elevation of
Frémont’s Peak, which according to direct measurement is 13,568 feet,
must therefore exceed by 2072 feet that given by Long to James’ Peak,
which would appear from its position to be identical with Pike’s Peak,
as given in the map above referred to. The Wind River Mountains
constitute the dividing ridge (_divortia aquarum_) between the two
seas. “From the summit,” says Captain Frémont in his official
report,[N] “we saw on the one side numerous lakes and streams, the
sources of the Rio Colorado, which carries its waters through the
Californian Gulf to the South Sea; on the other, the deep valley of
the Wind River, where lie the sources of the Yellowstone River, one of
the main branches of the Missouri which unites with the Mississippi at
St. Louis. Far to the north-west we could just discover the snowy
heads of the Trois Tetons, which give rise to the true sources of the
Missouri not far from the primitive stream of the Oregon or Columbia
river, which is known under the name of Snake River, or Lewis Fork.”
To the surprise of the adventurous travellers, the summit of Frémont’s
Peak was found to be visited by bees. It is probable that these
insects, like the butterflies which I found at far higher elevations
in the chain of the Andes, and also within the limits of perpetual
snow, had been involuntarily drawn thither by ascending currents of
air. I have even seen large winged lepidoptera, which had been carried
far out to sea by land-winds, drop on the ship deck at a considerable
distance from land in the South Sea.
Frémont’s map and geographical researches embrace the immense tract of
land extending from the confluence of Kanzas River with the Missouri,
to the cataracts of the Columbia and the Missions of Santa Barbara and
Pueblo de los Angeles in New California, presenting a space amounting
to 28 degrees of longitude (about 1360 miles) between the 34th and
45th parallels of north latitude. Four hundred points have been
hypsometrically determined by barometrical measurements, and for the
most part, astronomically: so that it has been rendered possible to
delineate the profile above the sea’s level of a tract of land
measuring 3,600 miles with all its inflections, extending from the
north of Kanzas River to Fort Vancouver and to the coasts of the South
Sea (almost 720 miles more than the distance from Madrid to Tobolsk).
As I believe I was the first who attempted to represent, in geognostic
profile, the configuration of entire countries, as the Spanish
Peninsula, the highland of Mexico, and the Cordilleras of South
America (for the half-perspective projections of the Siberian
traveller, the Abbé Chappe,[O] were based on mere and for the most
part on very inaccurate estimates of the falls of rivers); it has
afforded me special satisfaction to find the graphical method of
representing the earth’s configuration in a vertical direction, that
is, the elevation of solid over fluid parts, achieved on so vast a
scale. In the mean latitudes of 37° to 43° the Rocky Mountains
present, besides the great snow-crowned summits, whose height may be
compared to that of the Peak of Teneriffe, elevated plateaux of an
extent scarcely to be met with in any other part of the world, and
whose breadth from east to west is almost twice that of the Mexican
highlands. From the range of the mountains, which begin a little
westward of Fort Laramie, to the further side of the Wahsatch
Mountains, the elevation of the soil is uninterruptedly maintained
from five to upwards of seven thousand feet above the sea’s level;
nay, this elevated portion occupies the whole space between the true
Rocky Mountains and the Californian snowy coast range from 34° to 45°
north latitude. This district, which is a kind of broad longitudinal
valley, like that of the lake of Titicaca, has been named _The Great
Basin_ by Joseph Walker and Captain Frémont, travellers well
acquainted with these western regions. It is a _terra incognita_ of at
least 8000 geographical (or 128,000 English) square miles, arid,
almost uninhabited, and full of salt lakes, the largest of which is
3940 Parisian (or 4200 English) feet above the level of the sea, and
is connected with the narrow Lake Utah,[P] into which the “Rock River”
(_Timpan Ogo_ in the Utah language) pours its copious stream. Father
Escalante, in his wanderings from Santa Fé del Nuevo Mexico to
Monterey in New California, discovered Frémont’s “Great Salt Lake” in
1776, and confounding together the river and the lake, called it
Laguna de Timpanogo. Under this name I inserted it in my map of
Mexico, which gave rise to much uncritical discussion regarding the
assumed non-existence of a large inland salt lake,[Q]—a question
previously mooted by the learned American traveller Tanner. Gallatin
expressly says in his memoir on the aboriginal races[R]—“General
Ashley and Mr. J. S. Smith have found the Lake Timpanogo in the same
latitude and longitude nearly as had been assigned to it in Humboldt’s
Atlas of Mexico.”
I have purposely dwelt at length on these considerations regarding the
remarkable elevation of the soil in the region of the Rocky Mountains,
since by its extension and height it undoubtedly exercises a great,
although hitherto unappreciated influence on the climate of the
northern half of the new continent, both in its southern and eastern
portions. On this vast and uniformly elevated plateau Frémont found
the water covered with ice every night in the month of August. Nor is
the configuration of the land less important when considered in
reference to the social condition and progress of the great North
American United States. Although the mountain range which divides the
waters attains a height nearly equal to that of the passes of Mount
Simplon (6170 Parisian or 6576 English feet), Mount Gothard (6440
Parisian or 6863 English feet), and the great St. Bernard (7476
Parisian or 7957 English feet), the ascent is so prolonged and gradual
that no impediments oppose a general intercourse by means of vehicles
and carriages of every kind between the Missouri and Oregon
territories, between the Atlantic States, and the new settlements on
the Oregon (or Columbia) river, or between the coast-lands lying
opposite to Europe on the one side of the continent, and to China on
the other. The distance from Boston to the old settlement of Astoria
on the Pacific at the mouth of the Oregon when measured in a direct
line, and taking into account the difference of longitude, is 550
geographical, _i.e._, 2200 English miles, or one-sixth less than the
distance between Lisbon and Katherinenburg in the Ural district. On
account of this gentle ascent of the elevated plains leading from the
Missouri to California and the Oregon territory (all the
resting-places measured between the Fort and River Lamarie on the
northern branch of the Platte river to Fort Hall on the Lewis Fork of
the Columbia, being situated at an elevation of from five to upwards
of seven thousand feet, and that in Old Park even at the height of
9760 Parisian or 10,402 English feet!), considerable difficulty has
been experienced in determining the culminating point, or that of the
_divortia aquarum_. It is south of the Wind River Mountains, about
midway between the Mississippi and the coast line of the Southern
Ocean, and is situated at an elevation of 7490 feet, or only 480 feet
lower than the pass of the Great Bernard. The emigrants call this
culminating point the South Pass.[S] It is situated in a pleasant
region, embellished by a profusion of artemisiæ, especially A.
tridentata (Nuttall), and varieties of asters and cactuses, which
cover the micaceous slate and gneiss rocks. Astronomical
determinations place its latitude in the parallel of 42° 24′, and its
longitude in that of 109° 24′ W. Adolf Erman has already drawn
attention to the fact, that the line of strike of the great
east-Asiatic Aldanian mountain-chain, which separates the basin of the
Lena from the rivers flowing towards the Great Southern Ocean, if
extended in the form of a great circle on the surface of the globe,
passes through many of the summits of the Rocky Mountains between 40°
and 55° north lat. “An American and an Asiatic mountain-chain,” he
remarks, “appear therefore to be only portions of one and the same
fissure erupted by the shortest channels.”[T]
The western high mountain coast chain of the Californian maritime
Alps, the _Sierra Nevada de California_, is wholly distinct from the
Rocky Mountains, which sink towards the Mackenzie River (that remains
covered with ice for a great portion of the year), and from the high
table land on which rise individual snow-covered peaks. However
injudicious the choice of the appellation of _Rocky Mountains_ may be,
when applied to the most northerly prolongation of the Mexican central
chain, I do not deem it expedient to substitute for it the
denomination of the Oregon Chain, as has frequently been attempted.
These mountains do indeed give rise to the sources of three main
branches constituting the great Oregon or Columbia river (viz.,
Lewis’, Clarke’s, and North Fork); but this mighty stream also
intersects the chain of the ever snow-crowned maritime Alps of
California. The name of Oregon Territory is also employed, politically
and officially, to designate the lesser territory of land west of the
coast chain, where Fort Vancouver and the Walahmutti settlements are
situated; and it would therefore seem better to abstain from applying
the name of Oregon either to the central or to the coast chain. This
denomination, moreover, led the celebrated geographer Malte-Brun into
a misconception of the most remarkable kind. He read in an old Spanish
chart the following passage:—“And it is still unknown (_y aun se
ignora_) where the source of this river” (now called the Columbia) “is
situated,” and he believed that the word _ignora_ signified the name
of the Oregon.[U]
The rocks which give rise to the cataracts of the Columbia at the
point where the river breaks through the chain, mark the prolongation
of the Sierra Nevada of California from the 44th to the 47th degree of
latitude.[V] In this northern prolongation of the chain lie the three
colossal elevations of Mount Jefferson, Mount Hood, and Mount St.
Helen’s, which rise 14,540 Parisian (or 15,500 English) feet above the
sea-level. The height of this coast chain or range far exceeds
therefore that of the Rocky Mountains. “During an eight months’
journey along these maritime Alps,” says Captain Frémont,[W] “we were
constantly within sight of snow-covered summits; and while we were
able to cross the Rocky Mountains through the South Pass at an
elevation of 7027 feet, we found that the passes in the maritime
range, which is divided into several parallel chains, were more than
2000 feet higher”—and therefore only 1170 (English) feet below the
summit of Mount Etna. It is also a very remarkable fact, and one which
reminds us of the relations of the eastern and western Cordilleras of
Chili, that volcanoes still active are only found in the Californian
chain which lies in the closest proximity to the sea. The conical
mountains of Regnier and of St. Helen’s are almost invariably observed
to emit smoke; and on the 23rd of November, 1843, the latter of these
volcanoes erupted a mass of ashes which covered the shores of the
Columbia for a distance of forty miles, like a fall of snow. To the
volcanic Californian chain belong also in the far north of Russian
America, Mount Elias (according to La Pérouse 1980 toises, or 12,660
feet, and according to Malaspina 2792 toises, or 17,850 feet in
height), and Mount Fair Weather (Cerro de Buen Tiempo, 2304 toises, or
14,733 feet high). Both these conical mountains are regarded as still
active volcanoes. Frémont’s expedition, which has proved alike useful
in reference to botany and geognosy, likewise collected volcanic
products in the Rocky Mountains (as scoriaceous basalt, trachyte, and
true obsidian), and discovered an old extinct crater somewhat to the
east of Fort Hall (43° 2′ north lat., and 112° 28′ west long.), but no
traces of any still active volcanoes emitting lava and ashes, were to
be met with. We must not confound with these the hitherto unexplained
phenomenon termed _smoking hills_, _côtes brûlées_, and _terrains
ardens_, in the language of the English settlers and the natives who
speak French. “Rows of low conical hills,” says the accurate observer
M. Nicollet, “are almost periodically, and sometimes for two or three
years continually, covered with dense black smoke, unaccompanied by
any visible flames. This phenomenon is more particularly noticed in
the territory of the Upper Missouri, and still nearer to the eastern
declivity of the Rocky Mountains, where there is a river named by the
natives Mankizitah-watpa, or the river of smoking earth. Scorified
pseudo-volcanic products, a kind of porcelain jasper, are found in the
vicinity of the smoking hills.”
Since the expedition of Lewis and Clarke an opinion has generally
prevailed that the Missouri deposits a true pumice on its banks; but
here white masses of a delicate cellular texture have been mistaken
for that substance. Professor Ducatel was of opinion that the
phenomenon which is chiefly observed in the chalk formation, was owing
to “the decomposition of water by sulphur pyrites and to a reaction on
the brown coal floetzes.”[X]
If before we close these general remarks regarding the configuration
of North America we once more cast a glance at those regions which
separate the two diverging coast chains from the central chain, we
shall find in strong contrast, on the West, between that central chain
and the Californian Alps of the Pacific, an arid and uninhabited
elevated plateau nearly six thousand feet above the sea; and in the
East, between the Rocky Mountains and the Alleghanies. (whose highest
points, Mount Washington and Mount Marcy, rise, according to Lyell, to
the respective heights, of 6652 and 5400 feet,) we see the richly
watered, fruitful, and thickly-inhabited basin of the Mississippi, at
an elevation of from four to six hundred feet, or more than twice that
of the plains of Lombardy. The hypsometrical character of this eastern
valley, or in other words, its relation to the sea’s level, has only
very recently been explained by the admirable labours of the talented
French astronomer Nicollet, unhappily lost to science by a premature
death. His great chart of the Upper Mississippi, executed between the
years 1836 and 1840, was based on two hundred and forty astronomical
determinations of latitude, and one hundred and seventy barometrical
determinations of elevation. The plain which encloses the valley of
the Mississippi is identical with that of northern Canada, and forms
part of one and the same depressed basin, extending from the Gulf of
Mexico to the Arctic Sea.[Y] Wherever the low land falls in
undulations, and slight elevations which still retain their un-English
appellation of _côteaux des prairies_, _côteaux des bois_, occur in
connected rows between the parallels of 47° and 48° north lat., these
rows and gentle undulations of the ground separate the waters between
Hudson’s Bay and the Gulf of Mexico. Such a line of separation between
the waters is formed, north of Lake Superior or Kichi Gummi, by the
Missabay Heights, and further west by the elevations known as
_Hauteurs des Terres_, in which are situated the true sources of the
Mississippi, one of the largest rivers in the world, and which were
not discovered till the year 1832. The highest of these chains of
hills hardly attains an elevation of from 1500 to 1600 feet. From its
mouth (the old French Balize) to St. Louis, somewhat to the south of
its confluence with the Missouri, the Mississippi has a fall of only
380 feet, notwithstanding that the itinerary distance between these
two points exceeds 1280 miles. The surface of Lake Superior lies at an
elevation of 618 feet, and as its depth in the neighbourhood of the
island of Magdalena is fully 790 feet, its bottom must be 172 feet
below the surface of the ocean.[Z]
Beltrami, who in 1825 separated himself from Major Long’s expedition,
boasted that he had found the sources of the Mississippi in Lake Cass.
The river passes, in its upper course, through four lakes, the second
of which is the one referred to, while the outermost one, Lake Istaca
(47° 13′ north lat., and 95° west long.), was first recognised as the
true source of the Mississippi, in 1832, in the expedition of
Schoolcraft and Lieutenant Allen. This stream, which subsequently
becomes so mighty, is only 17 feet in width, and 15 inches deep, when
it issues from the singular horse-shoe-shaped Lake Istaca. The local
relations of this river were first fully established on a basis of
astronomical observations of position by the scientific expedition of
Nicollet, in the year 1836. The height of the sources, that is to say,
of the last access of water received by Lake Istaca from the ridge of
separation, called _Hauteur de Terre_, is 1680 feet above the level of
the sea. Near this point, and at the southern declivity of the same
separating ridge, lies Elbow Lake, the source of the small Red River
of the north, which empties itself, after many windings, into Hudson’s
Bay. The Carpathian Mountains exhibit similar relations in reference
to the origin of the rivers which empty themselves into the Baltic and
the Black Sea. M. Nicollet gave the names of celebrated astronomers,
opponents as well as friends, with whom he had become acquainted in
Europe, to the twenty small lakes which combine together to form
narrow groups in the southern and western regions of Lake Istaca. His
atlas is thus converted into a geographical album, reminding one of
the botanical album of the _Flora Peruviana_ of Ruiz and Pavon, in
which the names of new families of plants were made to accord with the
Court Calendar, and the various alterations made in the _Oficiales de
la Secretaria_.
The east of the Mississippi is still occupied by dense forests; the
west by prairies only, on which the buffalo (_Bos Americanus_) and the
musk ox (_Bos moschatus_) pasture. These two species of animals, the
largest of the new world, furnish the nomadic tribes of the
Apaches-Llaneros and Apaches-Lipanos with the means of nourishment.
The Assiniboins occasionally slay from seven to eight hundred bisons
in the course of a few days in the artificial enclosures constructed
for the purpose of driving together the wild herds, and known as
_bison parks_.[AA] The American bison, called by the Mexicans
_Cibolo_, is killed chiefly on account of the tongue, which is
regarded as a special delicacy. This animal is not a mere variety of
the aurochs of the old world; although, like other species of animals,
as for instance the elk (_Cervus alces_) and the reindeer (_Cervus
tarandus_), no less than the stunted inhabitants of the polar regions,
it may be regarded as common to the northern portions of _all_
continents, and as affording a proof of their former long existing
connection. The Mexicans apply to the European ox the Aztec term
_quaquahue_, or horned animal, from _quaquahuitl_, a horn. The huge
ox-horns which have been found in ancient Mexican buildings near
Cuernavaca, south-west of the capital of Mexico, appear to me to
belong to the bison. The Canadian bison can be used for agricultural
labour, and will breed with the European cattle, although it is
uncertain whether the hybrid thus engendered is capable of propagating
its species. Albert Gallatin, who, before his appearance in Europe as
a distinguished diplomatist, had acquired by personal observation a
considerable amount of information regarding the uncultivated parts of
the United States, assures us that the fruitfulness of the mixed breed
of the American buffalo and European cattle is an undoubted fact: “the
mixed breed,” he writes, “was quite common fifty years ago in some of
the north-western counties of Virginia, and the cows, the issue of
that mixture, propagated like all others.” “I do not remember,” he
further adds, “that full-grown buffaloes were tamed; but dogs would at
that time occasionally bring in the young bison-calves, which were
reared and bred with European cows. At Monongahela all the cattle for
a long time were of this mixed breed. It was said, however, that the
cows yielded but little milk.” The favourite food of the buffalo is
the _Tripsacum dactyloides_ (known as buffalo-grass in North Carolina)
and a hitherto undescribed species of clover allied to the _Trifolium
repens_, and designated by Barton as _Trifolium bisonicum_.
I have elsewhere[AB] drawn attention to the fact, that according to a
passage of the trustworthy Gomara[AC], there lived, as late as the
sixteenth century, an Indian tribe in the north-west of Mexico, in 40°
north lat., whose greatest wealth consisted in hordes of tamed
buffaloes (_bueyes con una giba_). Yet, notwithstanding the
possibility of taming the buffalo, and the abundance of milk it
yields, and notwithstanding the herds of Lamas in the Peruvian
Cordilleras, no pastoral tribes were met with on the discovery of
America. Nor does history afford any evidence of the existence, at any
period, of this intermediate stage of national development. It is also
a remarkable fact that the North American bison or buffalo has exerted
an influence on geographical discoveries in pathless mountain
districts. These animals advance in herds of many thousands in search
of a milder climate, during winter, in the countries south of the
Arkansas river. Their size and cumbrous forms render it difficult for
them to cross high mountains on these migratory courses, and a
well-trodden buffalo-path is therefore followed wherever it is met
with, as it invariably indicates the most convenient passage across
the mountains. Thus buffalo-paths have indicated the best tracks for
passing over the Cumberland Mountains in the south-western parts of
Virginia and Kentucky, and over the Rocky Mountains, between the
sources of the Yellowstone and Plate rivers, and between the southern
branch of the Columbia and the Californian Rio Colorado. European
settlements have gradually driven the buffalo from the eastern
portions of the United States. Formerly these migratory animals passed
the banks of the Mississippi and the Ohio, advancing far beyond
Pittsburgh.[AD]
From the granitic rocks of Diego Ramirez and the deeply-intersected
district of Terra del Fuego (which in the east contains silurian
schist, and in the west, the same schist metamorphosed into granite by
the action of subterranean fire,)[AE] to the North Polar Sea, the
Cordilleras extend over a distance of more than 8000 miles. Although
not the loftiest, they are the longest mountain chain in the world,
being upheaved from one fissure, which runs in the direction of a
meridian from pole to pole, and exceeding in linear extent the
distance which, in the old continent, separates the Pillars of
Hercules from the Icy Cape of the Tschuktches, in the north-east of
Asia. Where the Andes are divided into several parallel chains, those
lying nearest the sea are found to be the seat of the most active
volcanoes; and it has moreover been repeatedly observed that when the
phenomenon of an eruption of subterranean fire ceases in one mountain
chain, it breaks forth in some other parallel range. The cones of
eruption usually follow the direction of the axis of the chain; but in
the Mexican table-land, the active volcanoes are situated on a
transverse fissure, running from sea to sea, in a direction from east
and west.[AF] Wherever the upheaval of mountain masses in the folding
of the ancient crust of the earth has opened a communication with the
fused interior, volcanic activity continued to be exhibited on the
murally upheaved mass by means of the ramification of fissures. That
which we call a mountain chain has not been raised to its present
elevation, or manifested as it now appears, at one definite period;
for we find that rocks, varying considerably in age, have been
superimposed on one another, and have penetrated towards the surface
through early formed channels. The diversity observable in rocks is
owing to the outpouring and upheaval of rocks of eruption, as well as
to the complicated and slow process of metamorphism going on in
fissures filled with vapour, and conducive to the conduction of heat.
The following have for a long time, viz., from 1830 to 1848, been
regarded as the highest or culminating points of the Cordilleras of
the new continent:—
The _Nevado de Sorata_, also called Ancohuma or Tusubaya (15° 52′
south lat.), somewhat to the south of the village of Sorata or
Esquibel, in the eastern chain of Bolivia: elevation, 25,222 feet.
The _Nevado de Illimani_, west of the mission of Yrupana (16° 38′
south lat.), also in the eastern chain of Bolivia: elevation, 24,000
feet.
The _Chimborazo_ (1° 27′ south lat.), in the province of Quito:
elevation, 21,422 feet.
The Sorata and Illimani were first measured by the distinguished
geologist, Pentland, in the years 1827 and 1838; and since the
publication of his large map of the basin of the Laguna de Titicaca,
in June, 1848, we learn that the above elevations given for the Sorata
and Illimani are 3960 feet and 2851 feet too high. His map gives only
21,286 feet for the Sorata, and 21,149 feet for the Illimani. A more
exact calculation of the trigonometrical operations of 1838 led Mr.
Pentland to these new results. He ascribes an elevation of from 21,700
to 22,350 feet to four summits of the western Cordilleras; and,
according to his data, the Peak of Sahama would thus be 926 feet
higher than the Chimborazo, but 850 feet lower than the Peak of
Aconcagua.
Footnote 6:
p. 2—“_The desert near the basaltic mountains of Harudsch_.”
Near the Egyptian Natron Lakes, which in Strabo’s time had not yet
been divided into the six reservoirs by which they are now
characterized, there rises abruptly to the north a chain of hills,
running from east to west past Fezzan, where it at length appears to
form one connected range with the Atlas chain. It divides in
north-eastern, as Mount Atlas does in north-western Africa the Lybia,
described by Herodotus as inhabited and situated near the sea, from
the land of the Berbirs, or Biledulgerid, famed for the abundance of
its wild animals. On the borders of Middle Egypt the whole region,
south of the 30th degree of latitude, is an ocean of sand, studded
here and there with islands or oases abounding in springs and rich in
vegetation. Owing to the discoveries of recent travellers, a vast
addition has been made to the number of the Oases formerly known, and
which the ancients limited to three, compared by Strabo to spots upon
a panther’s skin. The third Oasis of the ancients, now called Siwah,
was the _nomos_ of Ammon, a hierarchical seat and a resting-place for
the caravans, which inclosed within its precincts the temple of the
horned Ammon and the spring of the Sun, whose waters were supposed to
become cool at certain periods. The ruins of Ummibida (_Omm-Beydah_)
incontestably belong to the fortified caravanserai at the Temple of
Ammon, and therefore constitute one of the most ancient monuments
which have come down to us from the dawn of human civilization.[AG]
The word Oasis is Egyptian, and is synonymous with Auasis and
Hyasis.[AH] Abulfeda calls the Oases _el-Wah_. In the latter time of
the Cæsars, malefactors were sent to the Oases, being banished to
these islands in the sandy ocean, as the Spaniards and English
transported their malefactors to the Falkland islands and New Holland.
The ocean affords almost a better chance of escape than the desert
surrounding the Oases; which, moreover, diminish in fruitfulness in
proportion to the greater quantity of sand incorporated in the soil.
The small mountain range of Harudsch (_Harudje_[AI]) consists of
grotesquely-shaped basaltic hills. It is the _Mons Ater_ of Pliny, and
its western extremity, known as the Soudah mountain, has been recently
explored by my unfortunate friend, the enterprising traveller Ritchie.
These basaltic eruptions in the tertiary limestone, and rows of hills
rising abruptly from fissures, appear to be analogous to the basaltic
eruptions in the Vicentine territory.
Nature repeats the same phenomena in the most distant regions of the
earth. Hornemann found an immense quantity of petrified fishes’ heads
in the limestone formations of the White Harudsch (_Harudje
el-Abiad_), belonging probably to the old chalk. Ritchie and Lyon
remarked that the basalt of the Soudah mountain was in many places
intimately mingled with carbonate of lime, as is the case in Monte
Berico; a phenomenon that is probably connected with eruptions through
limestone strata. Lyon’s chart even indicates dolomite in the
neighbourhood. Modern mineralogists have found syenite and greenstone,
but not basalt, in Egypt. Is it possible that the true basalt, from
which many of the ancient vases found in various parts of the country
were made, can have been derived from a mountain lying so far to the
west? Can the _obsidius lapis_ have come from there, or are we to seek
basalt and obsidian on the coast of the Red Sea? The strip of the
volcanic eruptions of Harudsch, on the borders of the African desert,
moreover reminds the geologist of augitic vesicular amygdaloid,
phonolite, and greenstone porphyry, which are only found on the
northern and western limits of the steppes of Venezuela and of the
plains of the Arkansas, and therefore, as it were, on the ancient
coast chains.[AJ]
Footnote 7:
p. 3—“_When suddenly deserted by the tropical east wind, and the sea
is covered with weeds_.”
It is a remarkable phenomenon, although one generally known to
mariners, that in the neighbourhood of the African coast, (between the
Canaries and the Cape de Verde islands, and more especially between
Cape Bojador and the mouth of the Senegal,) a westerly wind often
prevails instead of the usual east or trade wind of the tropics. The
cause of this phenomenon is to be ascribed to the far-extending desert
of Zahara, and arises from the rarefaction, and consequent vertical
ascent of the air over the heated sandy surface. To fill up the vacuum
thus occasioned, the cool sea-air rushes in, producing a westerly
breeze, adverse to vessels sailing to America; and the mariner, long
before he perceives any continent, is made sensible of the effects of
its heat-radiating sands. As is well known, a similar cause produces
that alternation of sea and land breezes, which prevails at certain
hours of the day and night on all sea-coasts.
The accumulation of sea-weed in the neighbourhood of the western
coasts of Africa has been often referred to by ancient writers. The
local position of this accumulation is a problem which is intimately
connected with the conjectures regarding the extent of Phœnician
navigation. The Periplus, which has been ascribed to Scylax of
Caryanda, and which, according to the investigations of Niebuhr and
Letronne, was very probably compiled in the time of Philip of Macedon,
contains a description of a kind of fucus sea, _Mar de Sargasso_,
beyond Cerne; but the locality indicated appears to me very different
from that assigned to it in the work “_De Mirabilibus
Auscultationibus_,” which for a long time, but incorrectly, bore the
great name of Aristotle.[AK] “Driven by the east wind,” says the
pseudo-Aristotle, “Phœnician mariners came in a four days’ voyage from
Gades to a place where the sea was found covered with rushes and
sea-weed (θρύον καὶ φῦκος). The sea-weed is uncovered at ebb, and
overflowed at flood tide.” Does he not here refer to a shoal lying
between the 34th and 36th degrees of latitude? Has a shoal disappeared
there in consequence of volcanic revolution? Vobonne refers to rocks
north of Madeira.[AL] In Scylax it is stated that “the sea beyond
Cerne ceases to be navigable in consequence of its great shallowness,
its muddiness, and its sea-grass. The sea-grass lies a span thick, and
it is pointed at its upper extremity, so that it pricks.” The sea-weed
which is found between Cerne (the Phœnician station for merchant
vessels, Gaulea; or, according to Gosselin, the small estuary of
Fedallah, on the north-west coast of Mauritania,) and Cape Verde, at
the present time by no means forms a great meadow or connected group,
“_mare herbidum_,” such as exists on the other side of the Azores.
Moreover, in the poetic description of the coast given by Festus
Avienus,[AM] in which, as Avienus himself very distinctly
acknowledges, he availed himself of the journals of Phœnician ships,
the impediments presented by the sea-weed are described with great
minuteness; but Avienus places the site of this obstacle much further
north, towards Ierne, the Holy Isle.
Sic nulla late flabra propellunt ratem,
Sic segnis humor æquoris pigri stupet.
Adjicit et illud, plurimum inter gurgites
Exstare fucum, et sæpe virgulti vice
Retinere puppim ...
Hæc inter undas multa cæspitem jacet,
Eamque late gens Hibemorum colit.
When we consider that the sea-weed (_fucus_), the mud or slime
(πηλὸς), the shallowness of the sea, and the perpetual calms, are
always regarded by the ancients as characteristic of the Western Ocean
beyond the Pillars of Hercules, we feel inclined, especially on
account of the reference to the _calms_, to ascribe this to Punic
cunning, to the tendency of a great trading people to hinder others,
by terrific descriptions, from competing with them in maritime trading
westwards. But even in the genuine writings of the Stagyrite,[AN] the
same opinion is retained regarding the absence of wind, and Aristotle
attempts to explain a false notion, or, as it seems to me, more
correctly speaking, a fabulous mariner’s story, by an hypothesis
regarding the depth of the sea. The stormy sea between Gades and the
Islands of the Blest (Cadiz and the Canaries) can in truth in no way
be compared with the sea, which lies between the tropics, ruffled only
by the gentle trade-winds (_vents alisés_), and which has been very
characteristically named by the Spaniards[AO] _El Golfo de las Damas_.
From very careful personal researches and from comparison of the logs
of many English and French vessels, I am led to believe that the old
and very indefinite expression _Mar de Sargasso_, refers to two fucus
banks, the larger of which is of an elongated form, and is the
easternmost one, lying between the parallels of 19° and 34°, in a
meridian 7° westward of the Island of Corvo, one of the Azores; while
the smaller and westernmost bank is of a roundish form, and is found
between Bermuda and the Bahama Islands (lat. 25°–31°, long. 66°–74°).
The principal diameter of the small bank, which is traversed by ships
sailing from Baxo de Plata (Caye d’Argent,) northward of St. Domingo
to the Bermudas, appears to me to have a N. 60° E. direction. A
transverse band of _fucus natans_, extending in an east-westerly
direction between the latitudes of 25° and 30°, connects the greater
with the smaller bank. I have had the pleasure of seeing these views
adopted by my lamented friend Major Rennell, and confirmed, in his
great work on Currents, by many new observations.[AP] The two groups
of sea-weed, together with the transverse band uniting them,
constitute the Sargasso Sea of the older writers, and collectively
occupy an area equal to six or seven times that of Germany.
The vegetation of the ocean thus offers the most remarkable example of
_social plants_ of a single species. On the main land the Savannahs or
grass plains of America, the heaths (_ericeta_), and the forests of
Northern Europe and Asia, in which are associated coniferous trees,
birches, and willows, produce a less striking uniformity than do these
thalassophytes. Our heaths present in the north not only the
predominating Calluna vulgaris, but also Erica tetralix, E. ciliaris,
and E. cinerea; and in the south, Erica arborea, E. scoparia, and E.
Mediterranea. The uniformity of the view presented by the Fucus natans
is incomparably greater than that of any other assemblage of social
plants. Oviedo calls the fucus banks “meadows,” _praderias de yerva_.
If we consider that Pedro Velasco, a native of the Spanish harbour of
Palos, by following the flight of certain birds from Fayal, discovered
the Island of Flores as early as 1452, it seems almost impossible,
considering the proximity of the great fucus bank of Corvo and Flores,
that no part of these oceanic meadows should have been seen before the
time of Columbus by Portuguese ships driven westward by storms.
We learn, however, from the astonishment of the companions of the
admiral, when they were continuously surrounded by sea-grass from the
16th of September to the 8th of October, 1492, that the magnitude of
the phenomenon was at that period unknown to mariners. In the extracts
from the ship’s journal given by Las Casas, Columbus certainly does
not mention the apprehensions which the accumulation of sea-weed
excited, or the grumbling of his companions. He merely speaks of the
complaints and murmurs regarding the danger of the very weak but
constant east winds. It was only his son, Fernando Colon, who in the
history of his father’s life, endeavoured to give a somewhat dramatic
delineation of the anxieties of the sailors.
According to my researches, Columbus made his way through the great
fucus bank in the year 1492, in latitude 28½°, and in 1493, in
latitude 37°, and both times in the longitude of 38°–41°. This can be
established with tolerable certainty from the estimation of the
velocity recorded by Columbus, and “the distance daily sailed over;”
not indeed by dropping the log, but by the information afforded by the
running out of half-hour sand-glasses (_ampolletas_). The first
certain and distinct account of the log, (_catena della poppa_,) which
I have found, is in the year 1521, in Pigafetta’s Journal of
Magellan’s Circumnavigation of the World.[AQ] The determination of the
ship’s place during the days in which Columbus was crossing the great
bank is the more important, because it shews us that for three
centuries and a half the total accumulation of these socially-living
thalassophytes, (whether consequent on the local character of the
sea’s bottom or on the direction of the recurrent Gulf stream,) has
remained at the same point. Such evidences of the persistence of great
natural phenomena doubly arrest the attention of the natural
philosopher, when they occur in the ever-moving oceanic element.
Although the limits of the fucus banks oscillate considerably, in
accordance with the strength and direction of long predominating
winds, yet we may still, in the middle of the nineteenth century, take
the meridian of 41° west of Paris (or 8° 38′ west of Greenwich) as the
principal axis of the _great bank_. Columbus, with his vivid
imaginative force, associated the idea of the position of this bank
with the great physical line of demarcation, which according to him,
“separated the globe into two parts, and was intimately connected with
the changes of magnetic deviation and of climatic relations.” Columbus
when he was uncertain regarding the longitude, attempted to determine
his place (February, 1493,) by the appearance of the first floating
masses of tangled weed (_de la primera yerva_) on the eastern border
of the great Corvo bank. The physical line of demarcation was, by the
powerful influence of the Admiral, converted on the 4th of May, 1493,
into a political one, in the celebrated _line of demarcation_ between
the Spanish and Portuguese rights of possession[AR].
Footnote 8:
p. 3—“_The Nomadic Tribes of Tibbos and Tuaryks_.”
These two nations, which inhabit the desert between Bornou, Fezzan,
and Lower Egypt, were first made more accurately known to us by the
travels of Hornemann and Lyon. The Tibbos or Tibbous occupy the
eastern, and the Tuaryks (Tueregs) the western portion of the great
sandy ocean. The former, from their habits of constant moving, were
named by the other tribes “birds.” The Tuaryks are subdivided into two
tribes—the Aghadez and the Tagazi. These are often caravan leaders and
merchants. They speak the same language as the Berbers, and
undoubtedly belong to the primitive Lybian races. They present the
remarkable physiological phenomenon that, according to the character
of the climate, the different tribes vary in complexion from a white
to a yellow, or even almost black hue; but they never have woolly hair
or negro features.[AS]
Footnote 9:
p. 3—“_The ship of the desert_.”
In the poetry of the East, the camel is designated as _the land-ship_,
or _the ship of the desert_ (_Sefynet-el-badyet_[AT]).
The camel is, however, not only the carrier in the desert, and the
medium for maintaining communication between different countries, but
is also, as Carl Bitter has shown in his admirable treatise on the
sphere of distribution of this animal, “the main requirement of a
nomadic mode of life in the patriarchal stage of national development,
in the torrid regions of our planet, where rain is either wholly or in
a great degree absent. No animal’s life is so closely associated by
natural bonds with a certain primitive stage of the development of the
life of man, as that of the camel among the Bedouin tribes, nor has
any other been established in like manner by a continuous historical
evidence of several thousand years.”[AU] “The camel was entirely
unknown to the cultivated people of Carthage through all the centuries
of their flourishing existence, until the destruction of the city. It
was first brought into use for armies by the Marusians, in Western
Lybia, in the times of the Cæsars; perhaps in consequence of its
employment in commercial undertakings by the Ptolemies, in the valley
of the Nile. The Guanches, inhabiting the Canary Islands, who were
probably related to the Berber race, were not acquainted with the
camel before the fifteenth century, when it was introduced by Norman
conquerors and settlers. In the probably very limited communication of
the Guanches with the coast of Africa, the smallness of their boats
must necessarily have impeded the transport of large animals. The true
Berber race, which was diffused throughout the interior of Northern
Africa, and to which the Tibbos and Tuaryks, as already observed,
belong, is probably indebted to the use of the camel throughout the
Lybian desert and its oases, not only for the advantages of internal
communication, but also for its escape from complete annihilation and
for the maintenance of its national existence to the present day. The
use of the camel continued, on the other hand, to be unknown to the
negro races, and it was only in company with the conquering
expeditions and proselyting missions of the Bedouins through the whole
of Northern Africa, that the useful animal of the Nedschd, of the
Nabatheans, and of all the districts occupied by Aramean races, spread
here, as elsewhere, to the westward. The Goths brought camels as early
as the fourth century to the Lower Istros (the Danube), and the
Ghaznevides transported them in much larger numbers to India as far as
the banks of the Ganges.” We must distinguish two epochs in the
distribution of the camel throughout the northern part of the African
continent; the first under the Ptolemies, which operated through
Cyrene on the whole of the north-west of Africa, and the second under
the Mahommedan epoch of the conquering Arabs.
It has long been a matter of discussion, whether those domestic
animals which were the earliest companions of mankind, as oxen, sheep,
dogs, and camels, are still to be met with in a state of original
wildness. The Hiongnu, in Eastern Asia, are among the nations who
earliest trained wild camels as domestic animals. The compiler of the
great Chinese work, _Si-yu-wen-kien-lo_[AV], states that in the middle
of the eighteenth century, wild camels, as well as wild horses and
wild asses, still roamed over Eastern Turkestan. Hadji Chalfa, in his
Turkish Geography, written in the seventeenth century, speaks of the
very frequent hunting of the wild camel in the high plains of Kashgar,
Turfan, and Khotan. Schott finds in the writings of a Chinese author,
Ma-dschi, that wild camels exist in the countries north of China and
west of the basin of the Hoang-ho, in Ho-si or Tangut. Cuvier[AW]
alone doubts the present existence of wild camels in the interior of
Asia. He believes that they have merely “become wild;” since Calmucks,
and others professing kindred Buddhist doctrines, set camels and other
animals at liberty, in order “to acquire to themselves merit for the
other world.” The Ailanitic Gulf of the Nabatheans was the home of the
wild Arabian camel, according to Greek witnesses of the times of
Artemidorus and Agatharchides of Cnidus.[AX] The discovery of fossil
camel-bones of the ancient world in the Sewalik hills (which are
projecting spurs of the Himalaya range), by Captain Cautley and Dr.
Falconer, in 1834, is especially worthy of notice. These remains were
found with antediluvian bones of mastodons, true elephants, giraffes,
and a gigantic land tortoise (_Colossochelys_), twelve feet in length
and six feet in height.[AY] This camel of the ancient world has been
named _Camelus sivalensis_, although it does not show any great
difference from the still living Egyptian and Bactrian camels with one
and two humps. Forty camels have very recently been introduced into
Java, from Teneriffe[AZ]. The first experiment has been made in
Samarang. In like manner, reindeer were only introduced into Iceland
from Norway in the course of the last century. They were not found
there when the island was first colonised, notwithstanding its
proximity to East Greenland, and the existence of floating masses of
ice.[BA]
Footnote 10:
p. 3—“_Between the Altai and the Kuen-lün_.”
The great highland, or, as it is commonly called, the mountain plateau
of Asia, which comprises the lesser Bucharia, Songaria, Thibet,
Tangut, and the Mogul country of the Chalcas and Olotes, is situated
between the 36th and 48th degrees of north latitude and the meridians
of 81° and 118° E. long. It is an erroneous idea to represent this
part of the interior of Asia as a single, undivided mountainous
swelling, continuous like the plateaux of Quito and Mexico, and
situated from seven to upwards of nine thousand feet above the level
of the sea. I have already shown in my “_Researches respecting the
Mountains of Northern India_,[BB]” that there is not in this sense any
continuous mountain plateau in the interior of Asia.
My views concerning the geographical distribution of plants, and the
mean degree of temperature requisite for certain kinds of cultivation,
had early led me to entertain considerable doubts regarding the
continuity of a great Tartarian plateau between the Himalaya and the
chain of the Altai. This plateau continued to be characterized, as it
had been described by Hippocrates, as “the high and naked plains of
Scythia, which, without being crowned with mountains, rise and extend
to beneath the constellation of the Bear.”[BC] Klaproth has the
undeniable merit of having been the first to make us acquainted with
the true position and prolongation of two great and entirely distinct
chains of mountains,—the Kuen-lün and the Thian-schan, in a part of
Asia which better deserves to be termed “central,” than Kashmeer,
Baltistan, and the Sacred Lakes of Thibet (the Manasa and the
Ravanahrada). The importance of the Celestial Mountains (the
Thian-schan) had indeed been already surmised by Pallas, without his
being conscious of their volcanic character; but this highly-gifted
investigator of nature, led astray by the hypotheses of the dogmatic
and fantastic geology prevalent in his time, and firmly believing in
“chains of mountains radiating from a centre,” saw in the Bogdo Oola
(the _Mons Augustus_, or culminating point of the Thian-schan,) such
“a central node, whence all the other Asiatic mountain chains diverge
in rays, and which dominates over all the rest of the continent!”
The erroneous idea of a single boundless and elevated plain, occupying
the whole of Central Asia, the “_Plateau de la Tartarie_,” originated
in France, in the latter half of the eighteenth century. It was the
result of historical combinations, and of a not sufficiently attentive
study of the writings of the celebrated Venetian traveller, as well as
of the naïve relations of those diplomatic monks who, in the
thirteenth and fourteenth centuries (thanks to the unity and extent of
the Mogul empire at that time), were able to traverse almost the whole
of the interior of the continent, from the ports of Syria and of the
Caspian Sea to the east coast of China, washed by the great ocean. If
a more exact acquaintance with the language and ancient literature of
India were of an older date among us than half a century, the
hypothesis of this central plateau, occupying the wide space between
the Himalaya and the south of Siberia, would no doubt have sought
support from some ancient and venerable authority. The poem of the
Mahabharata appears, in the geographical fragment Bhischmakanda, to
describe “Meru” not so much as a mountain as an enormous swelling of
the land, which supplies with water the sources of the Ganges, those
of the Bhadrasoma (Irtysch), and those of the forked Oxus. These
physico-geographical views were intermingled in Europe with ideas of
other kinds, and with mythical reveries on the origin of mankind. The
lofty regions from which the waters were supposed to have first
retreated (for geologists in general were long averse to the theories
of elevation) must also have received the first germs of civilization.
Hebraic systems of geology, based on ideas of a deluge, and supported
by local traditions, favoured these assumptions. The intimate
connexion between time and space, between the beginning of social
order and the plastic condition of the surface of the earth, lent a
peculiar importance and an almost moral interest to the Plateau of
Tartary, which was supposed to be characterized by uninterrupted
continuity. Acquisitions of positive knowledge,—the late matured fruit
of scientific travels and direct measurements,—with a fundamental
study of the languages and literature of Asia, and more especially of
China, have gradually demonstrated the inaccuracy and exaggeration of
those wild hypotheses. The mountain plains (ὀροπέδια) of Central Asia
are no longer regarded as the cradle of human civilization, and the
primitive seat of all arts and sciences. The ancient nation of
Bailly’s Atlantis, which d’Alembert has happily described as “having
taught us everything but its own name and existence,” has vanished.
The inhabitants of the Oceanic Atlantis were already treated, in the
time of Posidonius, as having a merely apocryphal existence.[BD]
A plateau of considerable but very unequal elevation runs with little
interruption, in a S.S.W.-N.N.E. direction, from Eastern Thibet
towards the mountain node of Kentei, south of Lake Baikal, and is
known by the names of Gobi, Scha-mo, (sand desert,) Scha-ho. (sand
river,) and Han-hai. This swelling of the ground, which is probably
more ancient than the elevation of the mountain-chains by which it is
intersected, is situated, as we have already remarked, between 81° and
118° east longitude from Greenwich. Measured at right angles to its
longitudinal axis, its breadth in the south, between Ladak, Gertop,
and H’lassa (the seat of the great Lama), is 720 miles; between Hami
in the Celestial Mountains, and the great curve of the Hoang-ho, near
the In-schan chain, it is scarcely 480; but in the north, between the
Khanggai, where the great city of Karakhorum once stood, and the chain
of Khin-gan-Petscha, which runs in a meridian line (in the part of
Gobi traversed in going from Kiachta to Pekin by way of Urga), it is
760 miles. The whole extent of this elevated ground, which must be
carefully distinguished from the more eastern and higher
mountain-range, may be approximately estimated, including its
deflections, at about three times the area of France. The map of the
mountain-ranges and volcanoes of Central Asia, which I constructed in
1839, but did not publish until 1843, shows in the clearest manner the
hypsometric relations between the mountain-ranges and the Gobi
plateau. It was founded on the critical employment of all the
astronomical determinations accessible to me, and on many of the very
rich and copious orographic descriptions in which Chinese literature
abounds, and which were examined at my request by Klaproth and
Stanislaus Julien. My map marks in prominent characters the mean
direction and the height of the mountain-chains, together with the
chief features of the interior of the continent of Asia from 30 to 60
degrees of latitude, between the meridians of Pekin and Cherson. It
differs essentially from any map hitherto published.
The Chinese enjoyed a triple advantage, by means of which they were
enabled to enrich their earliest literature with so considerable an
amount of orographic knowledge regarding Upper Asia, and more
especially those regions situated between the In-schan, the alpine
lake of Khuku-noor, and the shores of the Ili and Tarim, lying north
and south of the Celestial Mountains, and which were so little known
to Western Europe. These three advantages were, besides the peaceful
conquests of the Buddhist pilgrims, the warlike expeditions towards
the west (as early as the dynasties of Han and Thang, one hundred and
twenty-two years before our era, and again in the ninth century, when
conquerors advanced as far as Ferghana and the shores of the Caspian
Sea); the religious interest attached to certain high mountain
summits, on account of the periodical performance of sacrifices, in
accordance with pre-existing enactments; and lastly, the early and
generally known use of the compass for determining the direction of
mountains and rivers. This use, and the knowledge of the
south-pointing of the magnetic needle, twelve centuries before the
Christian era, gave a great superiority to the orographic and
hydrographic descriptions of the Chinese over those of Greek and Roman
authors, who treated less frequently of subjects of this nature. The
acute observer Strabo was alike ignorant of the direction of the
Pyrenees and of that of the Alps and Apennines.[BE]
To the lowlands belong almost the whole of Northern Asia to the
north-west of the volcanic Celestial Mountains (Thian-schan); the
steppes to the north of the Altai and the Sayanic chain; and the
countries which extend from the mountains of Bolor, or Bulyt-tagh
(Cloud Mountains in the Uigurian dialect), which run in a north and
south direction, and from the upper Oxus, whose sources were
discovered in the Pamershian Lake, Sir-i-kol (Lake Victoria), by the
Buddhist pilgrims Hiuen-thsang and Song-yun in 518 and 629, by Marco
Polo in 1277, and by Lieutenant Wood in 1838, towards the Caspian Sea;
and from Lake Tenghiz or Balkasch, through the Kirghis Steppe, towards
the Aral and the southern extremity of the Ural Mountains. In the
vicinity of mountainous plains, whose elevation varies from 6000 to
more than 10,000 feet above the sea’s level, we may assuredly be
allowed to apply the term lowlands to districts which are only
elevated from 200 to 1200 feet. The first of these heights correspond
with that of the city of Mannheim, and the second with that of Geneva
and Tübingen. If we extend the application of the word _plateau_,
which has so frequently been misused by modern geographers, to
elevations of the soil which scarcely present any sensible difference
in the character of the vegetation and climate, physical geography,
owing to the indefiniteness of the merely relatively important terms
of _high_ and _low_ land, will be unable to distinguish the connexion
between elevation above the sea’s level and climate, between the
decrease of the temperature and the increase in elevation. When I was
in Chinese Dzungarei, between the boundaries of Siberia and Lake
Saysan (Dsaisang), at an equal distance from the Icy Sea and the mouth
of the Ganges, I might assuredly consider myself to be in _Central
Asia_. The barometer, however, soon showed me that the elevation of
the plains watered by the Upper Irtysch between Ustkamenogorsk and the
Chinese Dzungarian post of Chonimailachu (the sheep-bleating) was
scarcely as much as from 850 to 1170 feet. Pansner’s earlier
barometric determinations of height, which were first made known after
my expedition, have been confirmed by my own observations. Both afford
a refutation of the hypotheses of Chappe D’Auteroche (based on
calculations of the fall of rivers) regarding the elevated position of
the shores of the Irtysch, in Southern Siberia. Even further eastward,
the Lake of Baikal is only 1420 feet above the level of the sea.
In order to associate the idea of the _relation_ between _lowlands_
and _highlands_, and of the successive gradations in the elevation of
the soil, with actual data based on accurate measurements, I subjoin a
table, in which the heights of the elevated plains of Europe, Africa,
and America are given in an ascending scale. With these numbers we may
then further compare all that has as yet been made known regarding the
mean height of the Asiatic plains, or true _lowlands_.
Toises. Feet.
Plateau of Auvergne 170 1,087
„ of Bavaria 260 1,663
„ of Castille 350 2,238
„ of Mysore 460 2,942
„ of Caracas 480 3,070
„ of Popayan 900 5,755
„ of the vicinity of the Lake of Tzana, in
Abyssinia 950 6,075
„ of the Orange River (in South Africa) 1000 6,395
„ of Axum (in Abyssinia) 1100 7,034
„ of Mexico 1170 7,482
„ of Quito 1490 9,528
„ of the Province de los Pastos 1600 10,231
„ of the vicinity of the Lake of Titicaca 2010 12,853
No portion of the so-called Desert of Gobi, which consists in part of
fine pasture lands, has been so thoroughly investigated in relation to
its differences of elevations as the zone which extends over an area
of nearly 600 miles, between the sources of the Selenga and the
Chinese wall. A very accurate barometrical levelling was executed,
under the auspices of the Academy of St. Petersburgh, by two
distinguished savans—the astronomer George Fuss, and the botanist
Bunge. They accompanied a mission of Greek monks to Pekin, in the year
1832, in order to establish there one of those magnetic stations whose
construction I had recommended. The mean height of this portion of the
Desert of Gobi amounts hardly to 4263 feet, and not to 8000 or 8500
feet, as had been too hastily concluded from the measurements of
contiguous mountain summits by the Jesuits Gerbillon and Verbiest. The
surface of the Desert of Gobi is not more than 2558 feet above the
level of the sea between Erghi, Durma, and Scharaburguna; and scarcely
more than 320 feet higher than the plateau of Madrid. Erghi is
situated midway, in 45° 31′ north lat., and 111° 26′ east long., in a
depression of the land extending in a direction from south-west to
north-east over a breadth of more than 240 miles. An ancient Mongolian
saga designates this spot as the former site of a large inland sea.
Reeds and saline plants, generally of the same species as those found
on the low shores of the Caspian Sea, are here met with; while there
are in this central part of the desert several small saline lakes, the
salt of which is carried to China. According to a singular opinion
prevalent among the Mongols, the ocean will at some period return, and
again establish its dominion in Gobi. Such geological reveries remind
us of the Chinese traditions of the _bitter lake_, in the interior of
Siberia, of which I have elsewhere spoken.[BF]
The basin of Kashmir, which has been so enthusiastically praised by
Bernier, and too moderately estimated by Victor Jacquemont, has also
given occasion to great hypsometric exaggerations. Jacquemont found by
an accurate barometric measurement that the height of the Wulur Lake,
in the valley of Kashmir, near the capital Sirinagur, was 5346 feet.
Uncertain determinations by the boiling point of water gave Baron Carl
von Hügel 5819 feet, and Lieutenant Cunningham only 5052 feet.[BG] The
mountainous districts of Kashmir, which has excited so great an
interest in Germany, and whose climatic advantages have lost somewhat
of their reputation since Carl von Hügel’s account of the four months
of winter snow in the streets of Sirinagur,[BH] does not lie on the
high crests of the Himalaya, as has commonly been supposed, but
constitutes a true cauldron-like valley on their southern declivity.
On the south-west, where the rampart-like Pir Panjal separates it from
the Indian Punjaub, the snow-crowned summits are covered, according to
Vigne, by basaltic and amygdaloid formations. The latter are very
characteristically termed by the natives _schischak deyu_, or devil’s
pock-marks.[BI] The charms of the vegetation have also been very
differently described, according as travellers passed into Kashmir
from the south, and left behind them the luxuriant and varied
vegetation of India; or from the northern regions of Turkestan,
Samarkand, and Ferghana.
Moreover, it is only very recently that we have obtained a clearer
view regarding the elevation of Thibet, the level of the plateau
having long been uncritically confounded with the mountain tops rising
from it. Thibet occupies the space between the two great chains of the
Himalaya and the Kuen-lün, and forms the elevated ground of the valley
between them. The land is divided from east to west, both by the
inhabitants and by Chinese geographers, into three parts. We
distinguish Upper Thibet, with its capital, H’lassa (probably 9592
feet high); Middle Thibet, with the town of Leh or Ladak (9995 feet);
and Little Thibet, or Baltistan, called the Thibet of Apricots
(Sari-Butan), in which lie Iskardo (6300 feet), Gilgit, and south of
Iskardo, but on the left bank of the Indus, the plateau Deotsuh, whose
elevation was determined by Vigne (11,977 feet). On carefully
examining all the notices we have hitherto possessed regarding the
three Thibets, and which will have been abundantly augmented during
the present year by the brilliant boundary surveying expedition under
the auspices of the Governor-general, Lord Dalhousie, we soon become
convinced that the region between the Himalaya and the Kuen-lün is no
unbroken table-land, but that it is intersected by mountain groups,
which undoubtedly belong to perfectly distinct systems of elevation.
Actual plains are very few in number: the most considerable are those
between Gertop, Daba, Schang-thung (the Shepherd’s Plain), the native
country of the shawl-goat, and Schipke (10,449 feet); those round
Ladak, which attain an elevation of 13,429 feet, and must not be
confounded with the depressed land in which the town lies; and
finally, the plateau of the Sacred Lakes, Manasa and Ravanahrada
(probably 14,965 feet), which was visited by Father Antonio de Andrada
as early as the year 1625. Other parts are entirely filled with
compressed mountain masses, “rising,” as a recent traveller observes,
“like the waves of a vast ocean.” Along the rivers, the Indus, the
Sutledge, and the Yaru-dzangbotschu, which was formerly regarded as
identical with the Buramputer (or correctly the Brahmaputra), points
have been measured which are only between 6714 and 8952 feet above the
sea; and the same is the case with the Thibetian villages Pangi,
Kunawur, Kelu, and Murung.[BJ] From many carefully collected
determinations of heights, I think that we are justified in assuming
that the plateau of Thibet between 73° and 85° east long, does not
attain a mean elevation of 11,510 feet: this is hardly the elevation
of the fruitful plain of Caxamarca in Peru, and is 1349 and 2155 feet
less than the plateau of Titicaca, and of the street pavement of the
Upper Town of Potosi (13,665 feet).
That beyond the Thibetian highlands and the Gobi, whose outline has
been already defined, Asia presents considerable depressions, and
indeed true lowlands, between the parallels of 37° and 48°, where once
an immeasurable continuous plateau was fabulously supposed to exist,
is proved by the cultivation of plants which cannot flourish without a
certain degree of temperature. An attentive study of the travels of
Marco Polo, in which mention is made of the cultivation of the vine,
and of the production of cotton in northern latitudes, had long ago
directed the attention of the acute Klaproth to this point. In a
Chinese work, bearing the title _Information respecting the recently
conquered Barbarians_ (Sinkiang-wai-tan-ki-lio), it is stated that
“the country of Aksu, somewhat to the south of the Celestial
Mountains, near the rivers which form the great Tarim-gol, produces
grapes, pomegranates, and numberless other fruits of singular
excellence; also cotton (Gossypium religiosum), which, covers the
fields like yellow clouds. In summer the heat is extremely great, and
in winter there is here, as at Turfan, neither intense cold nor heavy
snow.” The neighbourhood of Khotan, Kaschgar, and Yarkand still, as in
the time of Marco Polo,[BK] pays its tribute in home-grown cotton. In
the oasis of Hami (Khamil), above 200 miles east of Aksu, orange
trees, pomegranates, and the finer vines are found to flourish.
The products of cultivation which are here noticed lead to the belief
that over extensive districts the elevation of the soil is very
slight. At so great a distance from the sea side, and in the easterly
situation which so much increases the degree of winter cold, a
plateau, as high as Madrid or Munich, might indeed have a very hot
summer, but would hardly have, in 43° and 44° latitude, an extremely
mild and almost snowless winter. I have seen a high summer heat favour
the cultivation of the vine, as at the Caspian Sea, 83 feet below the
level of the Black Sea (at Astrakhan, latitude 46° 21′); but the
winter cold is there from –4° to –13°. Moreover, the vine is sunk to a
greater depth in the ground after the month of November. We can
understand that cultivated plants, which, as it were, live only in the
summer, as the vine, the cotton plant, rice, and melons, may be
cultivated with success between the latitudes of 40° and 44°, on
plateaux at an elevation of more than 3000[BL] feet, and may be
favoured by the action of radiant heat; but how could the pomegranate
trees of Aksu, and the orange trees of Hami, whose fruit Father
Grosier extolled as excellent, endure a long and severe winter (the
necessary consequence of a great elevation[BM])? Carl Zimmerman[BN]
has shown it to be extremely probable that the Tarim depression, or
the desert between the mountain chain of Thian-schan and Kuen-lün,
where the steppe river Tarim-gol discharges itself into the Lake of
Lop, formerly described as an alpine lake, is hardly 1280 feet above
the level of the sea, or only twice the elevation of Prague. Sir
Alexander Burnes also ascribes to Bokhara only an elevation of 1188
feet. It is most earnestly to be desired that all doubt regarding the
elevation of the plateaux of Central Asia, south of 45° north
latitude, should finally be removed by direct barometrical
measurements, or by determinations of the boiling point of water,
conducted with greater care than is usual in these cases. All our
calculations of the difference between the limits of perpetual snow
and the maximum elevation of vine cultivation in different climates,
rest at present on too complex and uncertain elements.
In order as briefly as possible to rectify that which has been
advanced in the former edition of the present work, regarding the
great mountain systems which intersect the interior of Asia, I subjoin
the following general review:—We begin with the four _parallel
chains_, which run, with tolerable regularity, from east to west, and
are connected together by means of a few detached transverse lines.
Differences of direction indicate, as in the Alps of Western Europe, a
difference in the epoch of elevation. After the four parallel chains
(the _Altai_, the _Thian-schan_, the _Kuen-lün_, and the _Himalaya_)
we must consider as following the direction of meridian, the Ural, the
Bolor, the Khingan, and the Chinese chains, which, with the great
inflection of the Thibetian and Assam-Birmese Dzangbo-tschu incline
from north to south. The Ural divides a depressed portion of Europe
from a similarly low portion of Asia. The latter was called by
Herodotus,[BO] and even earlier by Pherecydes of Syros, Scythian or
Siberian Europe, and comprised all the countries to the north of the
Caspian and of the Iaxartes, which flows from east to west, and may
therefore be regarded as a continuation of our Europe, “as it now
exists, extending lengthwise across the continent of Asia.”
1. The great mountain system of the Altai (the “gold mountains” of
Menander of Byzantium, an historical writer of the seventh century;
the Altaï-alin of the Moguls, and the Kin-schan of the Chinese) forms
the southern boundary of the great Siberian lowlands, and running
between 50° and 52½° north latitude, extends from the rich silver
mines of the Snake Mountains, and the confluence of the Uba and the
Irtysch, to the meridian of Lake Baikal. The divisions and names of
the “Great” and the “Little Altai,” taken from an obscure passage of
Abulghasi, should be wholly avoided.[BP] The mountain system of the
Altai comprehends—(_a_) the Altai proper, or Kolywanski Altai, which
is entirely under the Russian sceptre: it lies to the west of the
intersecting fissures of the Telezki Lake, which follow the direction
of the meridian; and in ante-historic times probably constituted the
eastern shore of the great arm of the sea, by which, in the direction
of the still existing lakes, Aksakal-Barbi and Sary-Kupa,[BQ] the
Aralo-Caspian basin was connected with the Icy sea;—(_b_) East of the
Telezki chains, which follow the direction of the meridian, the
Sayani, Tangnu, and Ulangom, or Malakha ranges, all tolerably parallel
with each other, and following an east and west direction. The Tangnu,
which merges in the basin of the Selenga, has, from very remote times,
constituted the national boundary between the Turkish race, to the
south, and the Kirghis (Hakas, identical with Σάκαι), to the
north.[BR] It is the original seat of the Samoieds or Soyotes. who
wandered as far as the Icy Sea, and were long regarded in Europe as a
race inhabiting exclusively the coasts of the Polar Sea. The highest
snow-covered summits of the Kolywan Altai are the Bielucha and the
Katunia Pillars. The latter attain only a height of about 11,000 feet,
or about the height of Etna. The Daurian highland, to which the
mountain node of Kentei belongs, and on whose eastern margin lies the
Jablonoi Chrebet, divides the depressions of the Baikal and the Amur.
2. The mountain system of the Thian-schan, or the chain of the
Celestial Mountains, the Tengri-tagh of the Turks (Tukiu), and of the
kindred race of the Hiongnu, is eight times as long, in an east and
west direction, as the Pyrenees. Beyond, that is to say, to the west
of its intersection with the meridian chain of the Bolor and Kosuyrt,
the Thian-schan bears the names of Asferah and Aktagh, is rich in
metals, and is intersected with open fissures, which emit hot vapours
luminous at night, and which are used for obtaining sal-ammoniac.[BS]
East of the transverse Bolor and Kosyurt chain, there follow
successively in the Thian-schan, the Kashgar Pass (Kaschgar-dawan),
the Glacier Pass of Djeparle, which leads to Kutch and Aksu in the
Tarim basin; the volcano of Pe-schan, which erupted fire and streams
of lava at least as late as the middle of the seventh century; the
great snow-covered massive elevation of Bogdo-Oola; the Solfatara of
Urumtsi, which furnishes sulphur and sal-ammoniac (nao-scha), and lies
in a coal district; the volcano of Turfan (or volcano of Ho-tscheu or
Bischbalik), almost midway between the meridians of Turfan (Kune
Turpan), and of Pidjan, and which is still in a state of activity. The
volcanic eruptions of the Thian-schan chain reach, according to
Chinese historians, as far back as the year 89, A.D., when the Hiongnu
were pursued by the Chinese from the sources of the Irtysch as far as
Kutch and Kharaschar[BT]. The Chinese General, Teu-hian, crossed the
Thian-schan, and saw “the Fire Mountains, which sent out masses of
molten rock that flow to the distance of many _Li_.”
The great distance of the volcanoes of the interior of Asia from the
sea coast is a remarkable and isolated phenomenon. Abel Rémusat, in a
letter to Cordier[BU], first directed the attention of geologists to
this fact. This distance, for instance, in the case of the volcano of
Pe-schan, from the north or the Icy Sea at the mouth of the Obi, is
1528 miles; and from the south or the mouths of the Indus and the
Ganges, 1512 miles; so central is the position of fire-emitting
volcanoes in the Asiatic continent. To the west its distance from the
Caspian at the Gulf of Karuboghaz, is 1360 miles, and from the east
shores of the Lake of Aral, 1020 miles. The active volcanoes of the
New World had hitherto offered the most remarkable examples of great
distance from the sea coast, but in the case of the volcano of
Popocatepetl, in Mexico, this distance is only one hundred and
thirty-two miles, and only ninety-two, one hundred and four, and one
hundred and fifty-six, respectively in the South American volcanoes
Sangai, Tolima, and de la Fragua. All extinct volcanoes, and all
trachytic mountains, which have no permanent connexion with the
interior of the earth, have been excluded from these statements[BV].
East of the volcano of Turfat, and of the fruitful Oasis of Hami, the
chain of the Thian-schan merges into the great elevated tract of Gobi,
which runs in a S.W. and N.E. direction. This interruption of the
mountain chain continues for more than 9½ degrees of longitude; it is
caused by the transversal intersection of the Gobi, but beyond the
latter, the more southern chain of In-schan (Silver Mountains),
proceeding from west to east, to the shores of the Pacific near Pekin
(north of the Pe-tscheli), forms a continuation of the Thian-schan. As
we may regard the In-schan as an eastern prolongation of the fissure
from which the Thian-schan is upheaved, so we may also be inclined to
consider the Caucasus as a western prolongation of the same range,
beyond the Great Aralo-Caspian basin or of the lowlands of Turan. The
mean parallel or axis of elevation of the Thian-schan oscillates
between 40° 40′ and 43° north latitude; that of the Caucasus
(inclining, according to the map of the Russian Staff, from E.S.E. to
W.N.W.) between 41° and 44°.[BW] Of the four parallel chains that
traverse Asia, the Thian-schan is the only one of which no summit has
as yet been measured.
3. The mountain system of the Kuen-lün (Kurkun or Kulkun), including
the Hindoo-Coosh, with its western prolongation in the Persian Elburz
and Demavend, and the American chain of the Andes, constitute the
longest lines of elevation on our planet. At the point where the
meridian chain of the Bolor intersects the Kuen-lün at right angles,
the latter receives the name of Onion Mountains (Tchsung-ling), a term
also applied to a portion of the Bolor at the inner eastern angle of
intersection. Bounding Thibet in the north, the Kuen-lün runs in a
regular direction from east to west, in the parallel of 36° north
latitude; until the chain is broken in the meridian of H’lassa, by the
vast mountain node which surrounds the _Sea of Stars_, _Sing so-hai_
(so celebrated in the mythical geography of the Chinese), and the
Alpine lake of Khuku-noor. The chains of Nan-schan and Kilian-schan,
lying somewhat further north, and extending to the Chinese wall near
Liang-tsheu, may almost be regarded as the eastern prolongation of the
Kuen-lün. To the west of the intersection of the Bolor and the
Kuen-lün (Tchsung-ling), the regular direction of the axes of
elevation (inclining from east to west in the Kuen-lün and
Hindoo-Coosh, and from south-east to north-west in the Himalaya)
proves, as I have elsewhere attempted to show, that the Hindoo-Coosh
is a prolongation of the Kuen-lün and not of the Himalaya.[BX] From
the Taurus in Lycia to the Kafiristan, the chain follows the parallel
of Rhodes (the diaphragm of Dicæarchus) over a distance of 45 degrees
of longitude. The grand geological views of Eratosthenes,[BY] which
were further developed by Marinus of Tyre, and by Ptolemy, and
according to which “the prolongation of the Taurus in Lycia was
continued, in the same direction, through all Asia as far as India,”
appear in part to be based on representations derived by the Persians
and Indians from the Punjaub.
“The Brahmins maintain,” says Cosmas Indicopleustes, in his Christian
Topography[BZ], “that a line drawn from Tzinitza (Thinæ) across Persia
and Romania, would exactly pass over the centre of the inhabited
earth.” It is remarkable, as Eratosthenes observes, that this greatest
axis of elevation in the old world passes directly through the basin
(the depression) of the Mediterranean, in the parallels of 35½° and
36° north latitude, to the Pillars of Hercules.[CA] The most eastern
portion of Hindoo-Coosh is the Paropanisus of the ancients, the Indian
Caucasus of the companions of the great Macedonian. The name of
_Hindoo-Coosh_, which is so frequently used by geographers, does not
in reality apply to more than one single mountain pass, where the
climate is so severe, as we learn from the travels of the Arabian
writer, Ibn Batuta, that many Indian slaves frequently perish from the
cold.[CB] The Kuen-lün still exhibits active fire-emitting eruptions
at the distance of several hundred miles from the sea-coast. Flames,
visible at a great distance, burst from the cavern of the mountain of
Schinkhieu, as I learn from a translation of the Yuen-thong-ki, made
by my friend Stanislaus Julien.[CC] The loftiest summit in the
Hindoo-Coosh, north-west of Jellalabad, is 20,232 feet above the level
of the sea; to the west, towards Herat, the chain sinks to 2558 feet,
rising again north of Teheran, in the volcano of Demavend, to the
height of 14,675 feet.
4. The mountain system of the Himalaya has a normal direction from
east to west, running more than 15 degrees of longitude (from 81° to
97°), or from the colossal mountain Dhawalagiri (28,072 feet) to the
intersection of the Dzangbo-tscheu (the Irawaddy of Dalrymple and
Klaproth), whose existence was long regarded as problematical, and to
the meridian chains, which cover the whole of Western China, and form
the great mountain group, from which spring the sources of the Kiang,
in the provinces of Sse-tschuan, Hu-kuang, and Kuang-si. Next to the
Dhawalagiri, the Kinchinjinga, and not the more eastern peak of
Schamalari, as has hitherto been supposed, is the highest point of
this portion of the Himalaya, which inclines from east to west. The
Kinchinjinga, in the meridian of Sikhim, between Butan and Nepal,
between the Schamalari (23,980 feet) and the Dhawalagiri, is 28,174
feet in height.
It is only within the present year that it has been trigonometrically
measured with exactness, and as I learn from India through the same
channel, “that a new measurement of the Dhawalagiri still leaves it
the first place among all the snow-crowned summits of the Himalaya,”
this mountain must necessarily have a greater elevation than the
28,072 feet hitherto ascribed to it.[CD] The point of deflection in
the direction of the chain is, near the Dhawalagiri, in 81° 22′, east
longitude. From thence the Himalaya no longer follows a due west
direction, but runs from S.E. to N.W., as a vast connecting system of
veins between Mozufer-abad and Gilgit, merging into a part of the
Hindoo-Coosh chain in the south of Kafiristan. Such a turn and
alteration in the line of the axis of elevation of the Himalaya (from
E.-W. to S.E.-N.W.) certainly indicates, as in the western region of
our European Alpine mountains, a different age or period of elevation.
The course of the Upper Indus, from the sacred lakes of Manasa and
Itavana-hrada, (at an elevation of 14,965 feet,) in the vicinity of
which this great river takes its origin, to Iskardo, and to the
plateau of Deotsuh (at an elevation of 12,994 feet), measured by
Vigne, follows in the Thibetian highlands the same north-westerly
direction as the Himalaya.
Here are situated the Djawahir, whose height was long since accurately
determined at 26,902 feet, and the Alpine valley of Caschmere (never
visited by winds or storms), where, at an elevation of only 5346 feet,
lies the lake of Wulur, which freezes every winter, and whose surface
is never broken by a single ripple.
After considering the four great mountain systems of Asia, which, in
their normal geognostic character, are true parallel chains, we must
turn to the long series of _alternating_ elevations following a
direction from north to south, and which extend from Cape Comorin,
opposite to the island of Ceylon, to the Icy Sea, alternating between
the parallels of 66° and 77° east longitude, from S.S.E. to N.N.W. To
this system of meridian chains, whose alternations remind us of faults
in veins, belong the Ghauts, the Soliman chain, the Paralasa, the
Bolor, and the Ural range. This interruption of the profile of the
elevation is so constituted, that each new chain begins in a degree of
latitude beyond that to which the preceding one had attained, all
alternating successively in an opposite direction. The importance
which the Greeks (probably not earlier than the second century of our
era) attached to these chains running from north to south, induced
Agathodæmon and Ptolemy (_Tab._ vii. et viii.) to regard the Bolor
under the name of Imaus as an axis of elevation, which extended as far
as 62° north latitude into the basin of the lower Irtysch and Obi.[CE]
As the vertical height of mountain summits above the sea’s level
(however unimportant the phenomenon of the more or less extensive
folding of the crust of a planetary sphere may be in the eyes of
geognosists) will always continue, like all that is difficult of
attainment, to be an object of general curiosity, the present would
appear to furnish a fitting place for the introduction of an
historical notice relative to the gradual advance of hypsometric
knowledge. When I returned to Europe in 1804, after an absence of four
years, not one of the high snow-crowned summits of Asia (in the
Himalaya, the Hindoo-Coosh, or the Caucasus) had been yet measured
with any degree of accuracy. I was unable, therefore, to compare my
determinations of the heights of perpetual snow in the Cordilleras of
Quito or the mountains of Mexico, with any results obtained in India.
The important travels of Turner, Davis, and Saunders to the highlands
of Thibet, were indeed accomplished in the year 1783; but the
intelligent Colebrooke justly observed that the height of the
Schamalari (28° 5′ north latitude, 89° 30′ east longitude, somewhat
north of Tassisudan), as given by Turner, rested on a foundation quite
as slight as the assumed measurements of the heights seen from Patna
and Kafiristan by Colonel Crawford and Lieutenant Macartney.[CF] The
admirable labours of Webb, Hodgson, Herbert, and the brothers Gerard,
have indeed thrown considerable light on the question concerning the
heights of the colossal summits of the Himalaya; but yet, in 1808, the
hypsometric knowledge of the East Indian mountain chains was still so
uncertain, that Webb wrote to Colebrooke, “The height of the Himalaya
still remains undetermined. It is true that I have ascertained that
the summits visible from the elevated plains of Rohilkand are 21,000
feet higher than that plateau, but we are ignorant of their absolute
height above the sea.”
In the year 1820 it first began to be currently reported in Europe
that there were not only much higher summits in the Himalaya than in
the Cordilleras, but that Webb had seen in the pass of Niti, and
Moorcroft in the Thibetian plateau of Daba, and the sacred lakes, fine
corn-fields and fertile pasturelands at elevations far exceeding the
height of Mont Blanc. This announcement was received in England with
great incredulity, and opposed by doubts regarding the influence of
the refraction of light. I have shown the unsoundness of such doubts
in two printed treatises on the mountains of India, in the _Annales de
Chimie et de Physique_. The Tyrolese Jesuit, Father Tiefenthaler, who
in 1766 penetrated as far as the provinces of Kemaun and Nepal, had
already divined the importance of the Dhawalagiri. We read on his map:
“_Montes Albi, qui Indis Dolaghir, nive obsiti_.” Captain Webb always
employs the same name. Until the measurements of the Djawahir (30° 22′
north latitude, and 79° 58′ east longitude, 26,902 feet in elevation),
and of the Dhawalagiri (28° 40′ north latitude, and 83° 21′ east
longitude, 28,072 feet in elevation), were made known in Europe, the
Chimborazo, which, according to my trigonometrical measurement, was
21,422 feet in height,[CG] was still everywhere regarded as the
loftiest summit on the earth. The Himalaya appeared, therefore, at
that time, to be 4323 feet or 6620 feet higher than the Cordilleras,
according as the comparison was made with the Djawahir or the
Dhawalagiri. Pentland’s South American travels, in the years 1827 and
1838, directed attention to two snow-crowned summits of Upper Peru,
east of the lake of Titicaca, which were conjectured to be
respectively 3824 and 2578 feet higher than the Chimborazo.[CH] It has
been already observed,[CI] that the most recent computations in the
measurements of the Sorata and Illimani have shown the error of this
hypsometric assertion. The Dhawalagiri, therefore, on whose declivity
in the river-valley of Ghandaki, the Salagrana Ammonites, so
celebrated in the Brahminical ritual as symbols of the testaceous
incarnation of Vishnu, are collected, still indicates a difference of
elevation between both continents of more than 6600 feet.