heights in the rear of the southernmost chain, which has been as yet
measured with more or less exactitude. Colonel George Lloyd, who in
1840 edited the important observations of Captain Alexander Gerard and
his brother, entertains the opinion, that in that part of the
Himalaya, which he somewhat indefinitely names the “Tartaric Chain”
(and consequently in Northern Thibet, in the direction of the
Kuen-lün, perhaps in the Kailasa of the sacred lakes or beyond Leh)
there are mountain-summits which attain an elevation of from 29,000 to
30,000 feet, one or two thousand feet higher, therefore, than the
Dhawalagiri.[CJ] No definite opinion can be formed on the subject
until we are in the possession of actual measurements, since the
indication which led the natives of Quito, long before the arrival of
Bouguer and La Condamine, to regard the summit of the Chimborazo as
the culminating point—or the highest point within the region of
perpetual snow—is rendered very deceptive in the temperate zone of
Thibet, where the radiation of the table-land is so effective, and
where the lower limit of perpetual snow does not constitute a regular
line of equal level as in the tropics. The greatest elevation above
the level of the sea that has been reached by man on the sides of the
Himalaya is 19,488 feet. This elevation was gained by Captain Gerard,
with seven barometers, as we have already observed, on the mountain of
Tarhigang, somewhat to the north-west of Schipke.[CK] This happens to
be almost the same height as that to which I myself ascended up on the
Chimborazo (on the 23rd of June, 1802), and which was reached thirty
years later (16th of December, 1831) by my friend Boussingault. The
unattained summit of the Tarhigang is, moreover, 1255 feet higher than
the Chimborazo.
The passes across the Himalaya from Hindostan to Chinese Tartary, or
rather to Western Thibet, especially between the rivers Buspa and
Schipke, or Langzing Khampa, are from 15,347 to 18,544 feet in height.
In the chain of the Andes I found that the pass of Assuay, between
Quito and Cuenca, at the Ladera de Cadlud, was also fully 15,566 feet
above the level of the sea. A great part of the Alpine plains of the
interior of Asia would lie buried throughout the whole year in snow
and ice, if the limits of perpetual snow were not singularly elevated,
probably to about 16,626 feet, by the force of the heat radiated from
the Thibetian plain, the constant serenity of the sky, the rarity of
the formation of snow in the dry atmosphere, and by the powerful solar
heat peculiar to the eastern continental climate, which characterizes
the northern declivity of the Himalaya. Fields of barley (of _Hordeum
hexastichon_) have been seen in Kunawur at an elevation of 14,700 feet
and another variety of barley, called Ooa, and allied to _Hordeum
cœleste_, even much higher. Wheat thrives admirably well in the
Thibetian highlands, up to an elevation of 12,000 feet. On the
northern declivity of the Himalaya, Captain Gerard found that the
upper limits of the birch woods ascend to 14,069 feet; and small
brushwood used by the natives for fuel in their huts is even found
within the parallels of 30° 45′ and 31° north latitude, at an
elevation of 16,946 feet, and therefore nearly 1280 feet higher than
the lower snow-limit in the equatorial regions. It follows from the
data hitherto collected that on the northern declivity of the Himalaya
the mean of the lower snow-line is at least 16,626 feet, whilst on the
southern declivity it falls to 12,980 feet. But for this remarkable
distribution of heat in the upper strata of the atmosphere, the
mountain plain of Western Thibet would be rendered uninhabitable for
the millions of men who now occupy it.[CL]
In a letter which I have lately received from India from Dr. Joseph
Hooker, who is engaged in meteorological and geological observations,
as well as in the study of the geography of plants, he says, “Mr.
Hodgson, whom we here consider more thoroughly conversant than any
other geographer with the hypsometric relations of the snow ranges,
recognises the correctness of the opinions you have advanced in the
third part of your _Asie centrale_, regarding the cause of the unequal
height of the limit of perpetual snow on the northern and the southern
declivity of the Himalaya range. In the trans-Sutledge region (in 36°
north latitude) we often observed the snow limit as high as 20,000
feet, whilst in the passes south of Brahmaputra, between Assam and
Birmah (in 27° north latitude), where the most southern snow-capped
mountains of Asia are situated, the snow limit sinks to 15,000 feet.”
I believe we ought to distinguish between the extreme and the mean
elevations, but in both we find the formerly disputed difference
between the Thibetian and the Indian declivities manifested in the
clearest manner.
My result for the mean height of Extremes according to Dr. Hooker’s
the snow line as given in _Asie Letter.
centrale_, t. iii., p. 326.
Feet. Feet.
Northern declivity 16,626 Northern declivity 20,000
Southern declivity 12,981 Southern declivity 15,000
—————— ——————
Difference 3,645 Difference 5,000
The local differences vary still more, as may be seen from the series
of extremes given in _Asie centrale_, t. iii., p. 295. Alexander
Gerard saw the snow-limit ascend to 20,463 feet on the Thibetian
declivity of the Himalaya; and Jacquemont found it as low as 11,500
feet on the south-Indian declivity, north of Cursali on the Jumnautri.
[The recent investigations of Lieutenant Strachey show that M.
Humboldt has been led astray, when treating of the Himalaya, by the
very authorities on whom he placed the most reliance. The results of
his inquiries on this point are given in the first volume of the
COSMOS (Bohn’s Ed.), pp. 9 and 338. As the subject is one of
considerable interest we give a brief sketch of Lieutenant
Strachey’s[CM] recent labours, confining ourselves to his own views,
and omitting (for want of space) his somewhat lengthy exposition of
the errors committed by the authorities quoted by Humboldt. The
following are his personal observations regarding the _southern limit
of the belt of perpetual snow_.
“In this part of the Himalaya it is not, on an average of years, till
the beginning of December, that the snow line appears decidedly to
descend for the winter. After the end of September, indeed, when the
rains are quite over, light falls of snow are not of very uncommon
occurrence on the higher mountains, even down to 12,000 feet; but
their effects usually disappear very quickly, often in a few hours.
The latter part of October, the whole of November, and the beginning
of December, are here generally characterised by the beautiful
serenity of the sky; and it is at this season, on the southern edge of
the belt, that the line of perpetual snow is seen to attain its
greatest elevation.
“The following are the results of trigonometrical measurements of the
elevation of the inferior edge of snow on spurs of the Treslú and
Nandádevi groups of peaks, made, before the winter snow had begun, in
November, 1848.
┌─────────┬────────────────────────────────────────────┬──────────────┐
│ │ │Height on face│
│ Point │ Height as observed on face exposed to the │ exposed to │
│observed.│ East. │West. Observed│
│ │ │from Almorah. │
├─────────┼──────────────┬──────────────┬──────────────┼──────────────┤
│ │From Almorah, │ From Binsar, │ │ │
│ │(height, 5586 │(height, 7969 │ Mean. │ │
│ │ ft.) │ ft.) │ │ │
├─────────┼──────────────┼──────────────┼──────────────┼──────────────┤
│ No. │ Feet. │ Feet. │ Feet. │ Feet. │
│ 1 │ 16,599│ 16,767│ 16,683│ 15,872│
│ 2 │ 16,969│ 17,005│ 16,987│ │
│ 3 │ 17,186│ 17,185│ 17,185│ 14,878│
│ 4 │ 15,293│ 15,361│ 15,327│ │
└─────────┴──────────────┴──────────────┴──────────────┴──────────────┘
“The points 1, 2 and 3 are in ridges that run in a south-westerly
direction. The dip of the strata being to the north-east, the faces
exposed to view from the south are for the most part very abrupt, and
snow never accumulates on them to any great extent. This in some
measure will account for the height to which the snow is seen to have
receded on the eastern exposures, that is, upwards of 17,000 feet. On
the western exposures the ground is less steep, and the snow is seen
to have been observed at a considerable less elevation; but it was in
very small quantities, and had probably fallen lately, so that I am
inclined to think that its height, viz., about 15,000 feet, rather
indicates the elevation below which the light autumnal falls of snow
were incapable of lying, than that of the inferior edge of the
perpetual snow. It is further to be understood, that below this level
of 15,000 feet the mountains were absolutely without snow, excepting
those small isolated patches that are seen in ravines, or at the head
of glaciers, which, of course, do not affect such calculations as
these. On the whole, therefore, I consider that the height of the
snow-line on the more prominent points of the southern edge of the
belt may be fairly reckoned at 16,000 feet at the very least.
“The point No. 4 was selected as being in a much more retired position
than the others. It is situate not far from the head of the Pindur
river. It was quite free from snow at 15,300 feet, and I shall
therefore consider 15,000 feet as the elevation of the snow-line in
the re-entering angles of the chain.
“I conclude, then, that 15,500 feet, the mean of the heights at the
most and least prominent points, should be assigned as the mean
elevation of the snow-line at the southern limit of the belt of
perpetual snow in Kumaon; and I conceive that whatever error there may
be in this estimate will be found to lie on the side of diminution
rather than of exaggeration.
“This result appears to accord well with what has been observed in the
Bissehir range. The account given by Dr. Gerard of his visit to the
Shátúl Pass on this range, which he undertook expressly for the
purpose of determining the height of the snow-line, contains the only
definite information as to the limit of the perpetual snow at the
southern edge of the belt that is to be found in the whole of the
published writings of the Gerards; and the following is a short
abstract of his observations. Dr. Gerard reached the summit of the
Shátúl Pass, the elevation of which is 15,500 feet, on the 9th of
August, 1822, and remained there till the 15th of the same month. He
found the southern slope of the range generally free from snow, and he
states that it is sometimes left without any whatever. On the top of
the pass itself there was no snow; but on the northern slope of the
mountain it lay as far down as about 14,000 feet. On his arrival rain
was falling, and out of the four days of his stay on this pass it
either rained or snowed for the greater part of three. The fresh snow
that fell during this time did not lie below 16,000 feet, and some of
the more precipitous rocks remained clear even up to 17,000 feet.
“The conclusion to which Dr. Gerard comes from these facts is, that
the snow-line on the southern face of the Bissehir range is at 15,000
feet above the sea. But I should myself be more inclined, from his
account, to consider that 15,500 feet was nearer the truth; and in
this view I am confirmed by verbal accounts of the state of the passes
on this range, which I have obtained from persons of my acquaintance,
who have crossed them somewhat later in the year. The difference,
however, is after all trifling.
“Such is the direct evidence that can be offered on the height of the
snow-line at the southern limit of the belt of perpetual snow: some
additional light, may, however, be thrown on the subject generally by
my shortly explaining the state in which I have found the higher parts
of the mountains at the different seasons during which I have visited
them.
“In the beginning of May, on the mountains to the east of the Rámganga
river, near Námik, I found the ground on the summit of the ridge,
called Champwá, not only perfectly free from snow at an elevation of
12,000 feet, but covered with flowers, in some places golden with
calsha and ranunculus polypetalus, in others purple with primulus. The
snow had in fact already receded to upwards of 12,500 feet, behind
which even a few little gentians proclaimed the advent of spring.
“Towards the end of the same month, at the end of the Pindur, near the
glacier from which that river rises, an open spot on which I could
pitch my tent could not be found above 12,000 feet. But here the
accumulation of snow, which was considerable in all ravines even below
11,000 feet, is manifestly the result of avalanches and drift. The
surface of the glacier, clear ice as well as moraines, was quite free
from snow up to nearly 13,000 feet; but the effect of the more retired
position of the place in retarding the melting of the snow, was
manifest from the less advanced state of the vegetation. During my
stay at Pinduri the weather was very bad, and several inches of snow
fell; but, excepting where it had fallen on the old snow, it all
melted off again in a few hours, even without the assistance of the
sun’s direct rays. On the glacier, at 13,000 feet, it had all
disappeared twelve hours after it fell.
“On revisiting Pinduri about the middle of October, the change that
had taken place was very striking. Now not a sign of snow was to be
seen on any part of the road up to the very head of the glacier; a
luxuriant vegetation had sprung up, but had already almost entirely
perished, and its remains covered the ground as far as I went. From
this elevation, about 13,000 feet, evident signs of vegetation could
be seen to extend far up the less precipitous mountains. The place is
not one at which the height of the perpetual snow can be easily
estimated, for on all sides are glaciers, and the vast accumulations
of snow from which they are supplied, and these cannot always be
readily distinguished from snow _in situ_; but as far as I could
judge, those places which might be considered as offering a fair
criterion were free from snow up to 15,000, or even 16,000 feet.
“Towards the end of August I crossed the Barjikang Pass, between Rálam
and Juhár, the elevation of which is about 15,300 feet. There was here
no vestige of snow on the ascent to the pass from the south-east, and
only a very small patch remained on the north-western face. The view
of the continuation of the ridge in a southerly direction was cut off
by a prominent point, but no snow lay on that side within 500 feet of
the pass, while to the north I estimated that there was no snow in
considerable quantity within 1500 feet or more, that is, nearly up to
17,000 feet. The vegetation on the very summit of the pass was far
from scanty, though it had already begun to break up into tufts, and
had lost that character of continuity which it had maintained to
within a height of 500 or 600 feet. Species of Potentilla, Sedum,
Saxifraga, Corydalis, Aconitum, Delphinium, Thalictrum, Ranunculus
Saussurea, Gentiana, Pedicularis, Primula, Rheum, and Polygonum, all
evidently flourishing in a congenial climate, showed that the limits
of vegetation and region of perpetual snow were still far distant.
“In addition to these facts, it may not be out of place to mention
that there are two mountains visible from Almorah, Rigoli-gúdri, in
Garhwal between the Kailganga and Nandákni, and Chipula, in Kumaon,
between the Gori and Dauli (of Darma), both upwards of 13,000 feet in
elevation, from the summits of which the snow disappears long before
the end of the summer months, and which do not usually again become
covered for the winter till late in December.”
These remarks are followed by an exposition of the errors into which
Webb, Colebrooke, Hodgson, A. Gerard, and Jacquemont, have fallen. The
heights assigned by these travellers “must all be rejected; nor can it
be considered at all surprising that any amount of mistake, as to the
height of the snow-line, should be made, so long as travellers cannot
distinguish snow from glacier ice, or look for the boundary of
perpetual snow at the beginning of the spring.”
With regard to _the northern limit of the belt of perpetual snow_,
Lieutenant Strachey’s observations were made in September, 1848, on
his way from Milam into Hundes, _viâ_ Unta-dhúra, Kyungar-ghát, and
Balch-dhúra, at the beginning of the month; and on his road back
again, _viâ_ Lakhur-ghát, at the end of the month.
“Of the three passes that we crossed on our way from Milam, all of
them being about 17,000 feet in elevation, the first is Wata-dhára,
and we saw no snow on any part of the way up to its top, which was
reached in a very disagreeable drizzle of rain and snow. The final
ascent to the pass from the south is about 1000 feet. The path leads
up the side of a ravine, down which a small stream trickles, the
ground having a generally even and rounded surface. Neither on any
part of this nor on the summit of the pass itself, which is tolerably
level, were there any remains of snow whatever. On the ridge to the
right and left there were patches of snow a few hundred feet above;
and on the northern face of the pass an accumulation remained that
extended about 200 feet down, apparently the effect of the drift
through the gap in which the pass lies. Below this again the ground
was everywhere quite free from snow. On the ascent to Wata-dhára, at
perhaps 17,000 feet, a few blades of grass were seen, but on the whole
it may be said to have been utterly devoid of vegetation. On the north
side of the pass, 300 or 400 feet below the summit, a cruciferous
plant was the first met with.
“The Kyungar pass, which is four or six miles north of Wata-dhára, was
found equally free from snow on its southern face and summit, which
latter is particularly open and level. The mountains on either side
were also free from snow to some height; but on the north a large bed
lay a little way down the slope, and extended to about 500 feet from
the top. On this pass a boragineous plant in flower was found above
17,000 feet; a species of _Urtica_ was also got about the same
altitude, and we afterwards saw it again nearly as high up on the
Lakhur pass.
“In our ascent to the Balch pass no snow was observed on any of the
southern spires of the range, and only one or two very small patches
could be seen from the summit on the north side. The average height of
the top of this range can hardly be more than 500 feet greater than
that of the pass; and as a whole it certainly does not enter the
region of perpetual snow. As viewed from the plains of Handes, it
cannot be said to appear snowy, a few only of the peaks being tipped.
“We returned to Milam _viâ_ Chirchun. The whole of the ascent to The
Lakhur pass was perfectly free from snow to the very top, _i.e._
18,300 feet, and many of the neighbouring mountains were bare still
higher. The next ridge on this route is Jainti-dhára, which is passed
at an elevation of 18,500 feet, but still without crossing the least
portion of snow. The line of perpetual snow is however evidently near;
for though the Jainti ridge was quite free, and some of the peaks near
us were clear probably to upwards of 19,000 feet, yet in more
sheltered situations unbroken snow could be seen considerably below
us; and on the whole I think that 18,500 feet must be near the average
height of the snow-line at this place.”
A brief recapitulation of the principal results of Lieutenant
Strachey’s inquiries shows us that “the snow-line or the southern edge
of the belt of perpetual snow in this portion of the Himalaya is at an
elevation of 15,000 feet, while on the northern edge it reaches 18,500
feet; and that on the mountains to the north of the Sutlej, or still
further, it recedes even beyond 19,000 feet. The greater elevation
which the snow-line attains on the northern edge of the belt of
perpetual snow is a phenomenon not confined to the Thibetan declivity
alone, but extending far into the interior of the chain; and it
appears to be caused by the quantity of snow that falls on the
northern portion of the mountains being much less than that which
falls farther to the south along the line where the peaks, covered
with perpetual snow, first rise above the less elevated ranges of the
Himalaya.”
The letters of Dr. Joseph Hooker published during the present year
(1849) in the _Athenæum_ (pp. 431 and 1039) may also be consulted with
advantage.
Footnote 11:
p. 5—“_A tawny tribe of Herdsmen_.”
The Hiongnu (Hioung-nou), whom Deguignes and with him many other
historians long believed to be identical with the Huns, inhabited the
vast Tartarian tract of land which is bordered on the east by
Uo-leang-ho, the present territory of the Mant-schu, on the south by
the Chinese wall, on the west by the U-siün, and on the north by the
land of the Eleuthes But the Hiongnu belong to the Turkish, and the
Huns to the Finnish or Uralian race. The _northern_ Huns, a rude
people of herdsmen, unacquainted with agriculture, were of a blackish
brown complexion. The _southern_ Huns, or Hajatehah called by the
Byzantines Euthalites or Nephthalites, and inhabiting the eastern
shore of the Caspian Sea, had fairer skins. These pursued agriculture,
and dwelt in towns. They are frequently termed _White Huns_, and
d’Herbelot even regards them as Indo-Scythians. In Deguignes[CN] an
account will be found of the Punu, the leader or Tanju of the Huns,
and of the great drought and famine which led to the migration of a
portion of the nation northwards about the year 46 A.D. All the
details, given in his celebrated work regarding the Hiongnu, have been
recently submitted by Klaproth to a rigid and learned scrutiny. From
the result of his investigations it would appear, that the Hiongnu
belong to the widely diffused Turkish races of the Altai and Tangnu
mountain districts. The name of Hiongnu was a general name for the Ti,
Thu-kiu or Turks, in the north and north-west of China, even in the
third century before the Christian era. The southern Hiongnu submitted
themselves to the Chinese, and in conjunction with the latter
destroyed the empire of the northern Hiongnu, who were in consequence
compelled to flee to the west, and thus appear to have given the first
impulse to the migration of nations in Central Asia. The Huns, who
were long confounded with the Hiongnu (as the Uigures were with the
Ugures and Hungarians) belonged, according to Klaproth,[CO] to the
Finnish race of the Uralian mountains, which race has been variously
intermixed with Germans, Turks, and Samoiedes.
The Huns (Οὖννοι) are first mentioned by Dionysius Periegetes, a
writer who was able to obtain more accurate information than others
regarding the interior of Asia, because, as a learned man and a native
of Charax on the Arabian Gulf, he was sent back to the East by
Augustus, to accompany thither his adopted son, Caius Agrippa.
Ptolemy, a century later, writes the word Χοῦνοι with a strong
aspiration, which, as St. Martin observes, is again met with in the
geographical name of Chunigard.
Footnote 12:
p. 6—“_No hewn stone_.”
Representations of the sun and figures of animals have certainly been
found graven in rocks on the banks of the Orinoco, near Caicara, where
the woody region borders on the plain, but in the Llanos themselves
not a trace of these rough memorials of earlier inhabitants has ever
been discovered. It is to be regretted that no accurate account has
reached us of a monument which was sent to Count Maurepas, in France,
and which, according to Kalm, was discovered in the prairies of
Canada, 900 French leagues (about 2700 English miles) west of
Montreal, by M. de Verandrier, while engaged on an expedition to the
coast of the Pacific Ocean.[CP] This traveller met in the plains with
huge masses of stone erected by the hand of man, on one of which there
was an inscription believed to be in the Tartar language[CQ]. How can
so important a monument have remained uninvestigated? Can it actually
have borne an alphabetical inscription, or are we not rather to
believe that it must have been an historical picture, like the
so-called Phœnician inscription, which has been discovered on the bank
of the Taunton river, and whose authenticity has been questioned by
Court de Gebelin? I indeed regard it as highly probable that these
plains were once traversed by civilised nations, and it seems to me
that this fact is proved by the existence of pyramidal grave-works or
burrows and bulwarks of extraordinary length, between the Rocky
Mountains and the Alleghanys, on which Squier and Davis have now
thrown new light in their account of the ancient monuments of the
Mississippi valley.[CR] M. de Verandrier was despatched, about the
year 1746, on this expedition by the Chevalier de Beauharnois,
Governor-General of Canada; and several Jesuits in Quebec assured Kalm
that they had actually had this so-called inscription in their hands,
and that it was graven on a small tablet which was found inlaid in a
hewn pillar. I have in vain requested several of my friends in France
to make inquiries regarding this monument, in the event of its being
in the Collection of Count Maurepas. I have also found equally
uncertain accounts of the alphabetical writing of the American
aboriginal races, in a work of Pedro de Cieça de Leon,[CS] in
Garcia,[CT] and in Columbus’s[CU] journal of his first voyage. M. de
Verandrier maintained also that traces of the ploughshare were
observed for days together in travelling over the grassy plains of
Western Canada; a circumstance that other travellers, prior to him,
likewise profess to have noticed. But the utter ignorance of the
primitive nations of North America regarding this implement of
agriculture, the want of beasts of draught, and the vast extent of
surface over which these tracks extend through the prairie, tend
rather to make me adopt the opinion that this singular appearance of
furrows is owing to some movement of water over the earth’s surface.
Footnote 13:
p. 6—“_It spreads like an arm of the sea_.”
The great steppe, which extends from the mouth of the Orinoco to the
snowy mountains of Merida, from east to west, deflects towards the
south in the parallel of 8° north latitude, and occupies the whole
space between the eastern declivity of the elevated mountains of New
Granada and the Orinoco, which here flows in a northerly direction.
That portion of the Llanos, which is watered by the Meta, Vichada,
Zama, and Guaviare, connects as it were the valley of the Amazon with
that of the Lower Orinoco. The word _Paramo_, which I have frequently
employed in this work, signifies in the Spanish colonies all alpine
regions which are situated from 11,000 to 14,000 feet above the level
of the sea, and whose climate is rude, ungenial, and misty. In the
higher Paramos hail and snow fall daily for many hours continuously,
and yield a beneficial supply of humidity to the alpine plants, not
from the absolute quantity of vapour in the higher strata of the air,
but by the frequency of the aqueous deposits occasioned by the rapidly
changing currents of air, and the variations of the electric tension.
The trees found in these regions are low, and spread out in an
umbrella-like form, have gnarled branches, which are constantly
covered with fresh and evergreen foliage. They are mostly
large-flowering laurel and myrtle-leaved alpine shrubs _Escallonia
tubar_, _Escallonia myrtilloides_, _Chuquiraga insignis_, _Araliæ_,
_Weinmanniæ_, _Frezieræ_, _Gualtheriæ_, and _Andromeda reticulata_,
may be regarded as the representatives of the physiognomy of this
vegetation.[CV] To the south of the town of Santa Fé de Bogota lies
the celebrated _Paramo de la Suma Paz_, an isolated mountain group, in
which, according to Indian legends, great treasures are concealed; and
hence issues a small stream or brook, which pours its foaming waters
through a remarkable natural bridge in the rocky ravine of Icononzo.
In my Latin treatise, _De Distributione geographica Plantarum secundum
cœli temperiem et altitudinem montium_, 1817, p. 104, I have thus
endeavoured to characterise these Alpine regions: “Altitudine
1700–1900 hexapod: asperriæ solitudines, quæ a colonis hispanis uno
nomine _Paramos_ appellantur, tempestatum vicissitudinibus mire
obnoxiæ, ad quas solutæ et emollitæ defluunt nives; ventorum flatibus
ac nimborum grandinisque jactu tumultuosa regio, quæ æque per diem et
per noctes riget, solis nubila et tristi luce fere nunquam calefacta.
Habitantur in hac ipsa altitudine sat magnæ civitates, ut Micuipampa
Peruvianorum, ubi thermometrum centes. meridie inter 5° et 8°, noctu
–0°.4 consistere vidi; Huancavelica, propter cinnabaris venas
celebrata, ubi altitudine 1835 hexap. fere totum per annum temperies
mensis Martii Parisiis.”
Footnote 14:
p. 6—“_The Cordilleras of Cochabamba and the Brazilian mountains
approximate to one another by means of separate transverse chains_.”
The immense space between the eastern coasts of South America and the
eastern declivity of the chain of the Andes is contracted by two
mountain masses, which partially separate from one another the three
valleys or plains of the Lower Orinoco, the Amazon, and the Rio de la
Plata. The more northern mountain mass, called the group of the Parime,
is opposite to the Andes of Cundinamarca, which, after extending far
towards the east, assume the form of one elevated mountain, between the
parallels of 66° and 68° west longitude. It is connected by the narrow
mountain ridge of Pacaraima with the granitic hills of French Guiana, as
I have clearly indicated in the map of Columbia which I drew up from my
own astronomical observations. The Caribs, in their long expeditions
from the missions of Carony to the plains of Rio Branco, and even to the
Brazilian frontier, are obliged to traverse the crests of Pacaraima and
Quimiropaca. The second group of mountains, which separates the valley
of the Amazon from that of La Plata, is the Brazilian, which
approximates to the promontory of Santa Cruz de la Sierra, in the
province of Chiquitos, west of the Parecis hills. As neither the group
of the Parime, which gives rise to the cataracts of the Orinoco, nor the
Brazilian group, is directly connected with the chain of the Andes, the
plains of Venezuela and those of Patagonia are directly connected with
one another.[CW]
Footnote 15:
p. 6—“_Herds of wild dogs_.”
In the Pampas of Buenos Ayres the traveller meets with European dogs,
which have become wild. They live gregariously in holes and excavations,
in which they conceal their young. When the horde becomes too numerous,
several families go forth, and form new settlements elsewhere. The
European dog barks as loudly after it has become wild, as does the
indigenous American hairy species. Garcilaso asserts that, prior to the
arrival of the Spaniards, the Peruvians had a race of dogs called
_Perros gozques_; and he calls the indigenous dog _Allco_. In order to
distinguish this animal from the European variety, it is called in the
Quichua language Runa-allco, Indian dog, or dog of the natives. The
hairy Runa-allco appears to be a mere variety of the shepherd’s dog. It
is, however, smaller, has long yellow-ochry coloured hair, is marked
with white and brown spots, and has erect and pointed ears. It barks
continually, but seldom bites the natives, however it may attack the
whites. When the Inca Pachacutec, in his religious wars, conquered the
Indians of Xauxa and Huanca (the present valley of Huancaya and Jauja),
and compelled them by force to submit to the worship of the sun, he
found that dogs were made the objects of their adoration, and that the
priests used the skulls of these animals as wind instruments. It would
also appear that the flesh of this canine divinity was eaten by the
believers.[CX] The veneration of dogs in the valley of the Huancaya is
probably the reason why the skulls, and even whole mummies, of these
animals are sometimes found in the Huacas, or Peruvian graves of the
most ancient period. Von Tschudi, the author of an admirable treatise on
the _Fauna Peruana_, has examined these skulls, and believes them to
belong to a peculiar species, which he calls _Canis ingæ_, and which is
different from the European dog. The Huancas are still, in derision,
called “dog-eaters” by the inhabitants of other provinces. Among the
natives of the Rocky Mountains of North America, cooked dog’s flesh is
placed before the stranger guest, as a feast of honour. Captain Frémont
was present at such a dog-feast in the neighbourhood of Fort Laramie,
which is one of the stations of the Hudson’s Bay Company for trading in
skins and peltries with the Sioux Indians.[CY]
The Peruvian dogs were made to play a singular part during eclipses of
the moon, being beaten as long as the darkness continued. The Mexican
_Techichi_, a variety of the common dog, which was called in Anahuac
_Chichi_, was the only completely dumb dog. The literal signification of
the word _Techichi_ is “stone-dog,” from the Aztec, _tetl_, a stone.
This dog was eaten according to the ancient Chinese custom, and the
Spaniards found this food so indispensable before the introduction of
horned cattle, that the race was gradually almost entirely
extirpated.[CZ] Buffon confounds the Techichi with the Koupara of
Guiana,[DA] which is, however, identical with the Procyon or _Ursus
cancrivorus_, the _Raton crabier_, or the crab-eating Aguara-guaza of
the coasts of Patagonia.[DB] Linnæus, on the other hand, confounds the
dumb dog with the Mexican _Itzcuintepotzotli_, a canine species which
has not hitherto been perfectly described, and which is said to be
characterised by a short tail, a very small head, and a large hump on
the back. The name signifies a hump-backed dog, and is derived from the
Aztec _itzcuintli_, another word for dog, and _tepotzotli_, humped or a
humpback. I was much struck in America, especially in Quito and Peru,
with the great number of black hairless dogs. They are termed _Chiens
turcs_ by Buffon, and are the _Canis ægyptius_ of Linnæus. This species
is common amongst the Indians, who, however, generally despise them, and
treat them ill. All European dogs multiply rapidly in South America; and
if no species are to be met with equal to those of Europe, it is partly
owing to want of care, and partly to the circumstance that the finest
varieties (as the elegant greyhound and the Danish tiger breed) have
never been introduced.
Von Tschudi makes the singular remark, that on the Cordilleras, at
elevations of more than 12,000 feet, delicate breeds of dogs and the
European domestic cat are exposed to a particular kind of mortal
disease. “Innumerable attempts have been made to keep cats as domestic
animals in the town of Cerro de Pasco (lying at an elevation of 14,100
feet above the sea’s level); but such endeavours have invariably been
frustrated, as both cats and dogs have died in convulsions at the end of
a few days. The cats, after being attacked by convulsive fits, attempt
to climb the walls, but soon fall to the ground exhausted and
motionless. I frequently observed instances in Yauli of this chorea-like
disease; and it seems to arise from insufficient atmospheric pressure.”
In the Spanish colonies, the hairless dog, which is called _Perro
chinesco_, or _chino_, is supposed to be of Chinese origin, and to have
been brought from Canton, or from Manila. According to Klaproth, the
race has been very common in the Chinese Empire from the earliest ages
of its culture. Among the animals indigenous to Mexico, there was a very
large, totally hairless, and dog-like wolf, named _Xoloitzcuintli_, from
the Mexican _xolo_ or _xolotl_, a servant or slave.[DC]
The result of Tschudi’s observations regarding the American indigenous
races of dogs are as follows:—There are two varieties almost
specifically different—1. The _Canis caraibicus_ of Lesson, totally
hairless, with the exception of a small tuft of white hair on the
forehead and at the tip of the tail; of a slate-gray colour, and without
voice. This variety was found by Columbus in the Antilles, by Cortes in
Mexico, and by Pizarro in Peru (where it suffers from the cold of the
Cordilleras); and it is still very frequently met with in the warmer
districts of Peru, under the name of _Perros chinos_. 2. The _Canis
ingæ_, which belongs to the barking species, and has a pointed nose and
pointed ears; it is now used for watching sheep and cattle; it exhibits
many variations of colour, induced by being crossed with European
breeds. The _Canis ingæ_ follows man up the heights of the Cordilleras.
In the old Peruvian graves, the skeleton of this dog is sometimes found
resting at the feet of the human mummy, presenting an emblem of fidelity
frequently employed by the mediæval sculptors.[DD] European dogs, that
had become wild, were found in the island of St. Domingo, and in Cuba,
in the early periods of the Spanish conquest.[DE] In the savannahs
between the Meta, Arauca, and Apure, dumb dogs (_perros mudos_) were
used as food as late as the sixteenth century. The natives called them
_Majos_ or _Auries_, says Alonzo de Herrera, who undertook an expedition
to the Orinoco, in 1535. The highly intelligent traveller Gisecke found
this variety of non-barking dogs in Greenland. The dogs of the Esquimaux
live entirely in the open air, scraping for themselves at night holes in
the snow, and howling like wolves, in concert with one of the troop, who
sits in the middle, and takes the lead in the chorus. The Mexican dogs
were castrated, in order that their flesh might become more fat and
delicate. On the borders of the province of Durango, and further north,
near the Slave Lake, the natives load the larger dogs with their
buffalo-skin tents, (at all events they did so formerly,) when, on the
change of seasons, they seek a different place of abode. These various
details may all be regarded as characteristic of the mode of life led by
the nations of Eastern Asia.[DF]
Footnote 16:
p. 7—“_Like the greater part of the Desert of Sahara, the Llanos lie
within the Torrid Zone_.”
Significant denominations, particularly such as refer to the form of the
earth’s surface, and which arose at a period when there was only very
uncertain information respecting different regions and their hypsometric
relations, have led to various and long-continued geographical errors.
The ancient Ptolemaic denomination of the “Greater and Lesser Atlas”[DG]
has exercised the injurious influence here indicated. There is no doubt
that the snow-covered western summits of the Atlas of Morocco may be
regarded as the Great Atlas of Ptolemy; but where is the limit of the
Little Atlas? Are we still to maintain the division into two Atlas
chains (which the conservative tendency of geographers has retained for
1700 years) in the territory of Algiers, and even between Tunis and
Tlemse? Are we to seek a Greater and a Lesser Atlas between the coast
and the parallel chains of the interior? All travellers familiar with
geognostic views, who have visited Algeria since it has been in the
possession of the French, contest the meaning conveyed by the generally
adopted nomenclature. Among the parallel chains, that of Jurjura is
generally supposed to be the highest of those which have been measured;
but the well-informed Fournel (who was long _Ingénieur en chef des Mines
de l’Algérie_) affirms that the mountain range of Aurès, near Batnah,
which even at the end of March was found covered with snow, has a
greater elevation. Fournel contests the existence of a Little and a
Great Atlas, as I do that of a Little and a Great Altai[DH]. There is
but one Atlas, formerly called Dyris by the Mauritanians, “a name that
must be applied to the foldings (_rides_, _suites de crêtes_), which
form the division between the waters flowing to the Mediterranean and
towards the lowland of the Sahara.” The lofty Atlas chain of Morocco
inclines from north-east to south-west, and not, like the Eastern
Mauritanian portion of the Atlas, from east to west. It rises into
summits which, according to Renou, attain an elevation of 11,400 feet,
exceeding, therefore, the height of Etna[DI]. A singularly formed
highland, of an almost square shape (Sahab el-Marga), is situated in 33°
north lat., and is bounded to the south by high elevations. From thence
the Atlas declines in height in a westerly direction towards the sea,
about a degree south of Mogador. This south-western portion bears the
name of Idrar-N-Deren.
The northern boundaries of the extended low region of the Sahara in
Mauritania, as well as its southern limits towards the fertile Sudan,
have hitherto been but imperfectly investigated. If we take the
parallels of 16½° and 32½° north lat. as the outer limits, we obtain for
the Desert, including its oases, an area of more than 1,896,000 square
miles; or between nine and ten times the extent of Germany, and almost
three times that of the Mediterranean, exclusive of the Black Sea. The
best and most recent intelligence, for which we are indebted to the
French observers, Colonel Daumas, and MM. Fournel, Renou, and Carette,
shows us that the Desert of Sahara is composed of several detached
basins, and that the number and the population of the fertile Oases is
very much greater than had been imagined from the awfully desert
character of the country between Insalah and Timbuctoo, and the road
from Mourzouk, in Fezzan, to Bilma, Tirtuma, and Lake Tschad. It is now
generally affirmed that the sand covers only the smaller portion of the
lowlands. A similar opinion had been previously advanced by my Siberian
travelling companion, the acute observer Ehrenberg, from what he had
himself seen[DJ]. Of larger wild animals, only gazelles, wild asses, and
ostriches are to be met with.
“That lions exist in the desert,” says M. Carette, “is a myth
popularised by the dreams of artists and poets, and has no foundation
but in their imagination. This animal does not quit the mountains where
it finds shelter, food, and drink. When the traveller questions the
natives concerning these wild beasts, which Europeans suppose to be
their companions in the desert, they reply, with imperturbable _sang
froid_, ‘Have you, then, lions in your country which can drink air and
eat leaves? With us lions require running water and living flesh; and
therefore they only appear where there are wooded hills and water. We
fear only the viper (_lefa_), and, in humid spots, the innumerable
swarms of mosquitoes which abound there.[DK]’”
While Dr. Oudney, in his long journey from Tripoli to Lake Tschad,
estimated the elevation of the Southern Sahara at 1637 feet, and German
geographers even ventured to add an additional thousand feet, Fournel,
the engineer, has, by careful barometric measurements, based on
corresponding observations, made it tolerably probable that a part of
the northern desert is below the sea’s level. The portion of the desert
which is now called “Le Zahara d’Algérie,” advances to the chains of
hills of Metlili and el-Gaous, where lies the most northern of all the
Oases, el-Kantara, fruitful in dates. This low basin, which reaches the
parallel of 34° lat., receives the radiant heat of a stratum of chalk,
inclined at an angle of 65° towards the south, and which is full of the
shells of Inoceramus[DL]. “Arrived at Biscara (Biskra),” says Fournel,
“an indefinite horizon, like that of the sea, lay spread before us.”
Between Biscara and Sidi Ocba the land is only 243 feet above the sea’s
level. The inclination increases considerably towards the south. In
another work[DM], where I have brought together all the points that
refer to the depression of some portions of continents below the level
of the sea, I have already noticed that, according to Le Père, the
bitter lakes (_lacs amers_) on the isthmus of Suez, when they have but
little water, and, according to General Andréossy, the Natron lakes of
Fayoum, are also lower than the level of the Mediterranean.
Among other manuscript notices of M. Fournel, I possess a geognostic
vertical profile, with all the inflexions and inclinations of the
strata, representing the surface the whole way from the coast near
Philippeville to a spot near the Oasis of Biscara in the Desert of
Sahara. The direction of the line on which the barometric measurements
were taken is south 20° west; but the points of elevation determined are
projected, as in my Mexican profiles, on a different plane, one from N.
to S. Ascending uninterruptedly from Constantine, whose elevation is
2123 feet, the highest point is found between Batnah and Tizur, at only
3581 feet. In the part of the desert which lies between Biscara and
Tuggurt, Fournel has succeeded in digging a series of artesian
wells[DN]. We learn from the old accounts of Shaw, that the inhabitants
of the country were acquainted with a subterranean supply of water, and
related fabulous tales of a “sea under the earth (bahr tôhl el-erd).”
Fresh waters, which flow between clay and marl strata of the old chalk
and other sedimentary formations, under the action of hydrostatic
pressure, form gushing fountains when the strata are pierced[DO]. The
phenomenon of fresh water being often found near beds of rock salt, need
not surprise the geognosist, acquainted with mining operations, since
Europe offers many analogous phenomena.
The riches of the desert in rock-salt, and its employment for purposes
of building, have been known since the time of Herodotus. The salt zone
of the Sahara (zone salifère du désert) is the most southern of the
three zones which pass through Northern Africa from south-west to
north-east, and is believed to be connected with the beds of rock-salt
in Sicily and Palestine described by Friedrich Hoffman, and by
Robinson[DP].
The trade in salt with Sudan, and the possibility of cultivating the
date-tree in the many Oasis-like depressions, caused probably by
earth-slips in the beds of tertiary chalk or Keuper-gypsum, have equally
contributed to animate the desert, at various parts, by human
intercourse. The high temperature of the air, which renders the day’s
march so oppressive across the Sahara, makes the coolness of the night
(of which Denham and Sir Alexander Burnes frequently complained in the
African and Asiatic deserts) so much the more remarkable. Melloni[DQ]
ascribes this coolness (which is probably produced by the radiation of
heat from the ground), not to the great purity of the heavens
(irraggiamento calorifico per la grande serenità di cielo nell’ immensa
e deserta pianura dell’ Africa centrale), but to the extreme calm, and
the absence of all movement in the air throughout the whole night[DR].
The river Quad-Dra (Wadi Dra), which is almost dry the greater part of
the year, and which, according to Renou[DS], is one-sixth longer than
the Rhine, flows into the Sahara in 32° north latitude, from the
southern declivity of the Atlas of Morocco. It runs at first from north
to south, until in 29° north lat., and 5° 8′ west long., it deflects at
right angles to the west, and traversing the great fresh-water lake of
Debaid, flows into the sea at Cape Nun, in lat. 28° 46′, and long. 11°
8′. This region, which was first rendered celebrated by the Portuguese
discoveries of the fifteenth century, and whose geography has
subsequently been shrouded in the deepest obscurity, is now known on the
coast as the country of the Scheik of Beirouk (whose dominions are
independent of the Emperor of Morocco). It was explored, in the months
of July and August, 1840, by the French Count, Captain de
Bouet-Villaumez, under the orders of his government. From manuscript and
official reports it would appear that the mouth of the Quad-Dra is at
present so much blocked up by sand as to have an open channel of only
about 190 feet. The Saguiel-el-Hamra,—still very little known,—which
comes from the south, and is supposed to have a course of at least 600
miles, flows into the same mouth at a point somewhat farther eastward.
The length of these deep, but generally dry, river-beds is astonishing.
They are ancient furrows, similar to those which I observed in the
Peruvian desert at the foot of the Cordilleras, between the latter and
the shores of the Pacific. In Bouet’s manuscript narrative[DT], the
mountains which rise to the north of Cape Nun are estimated at the great
height of 9,186 feet.
It is generally supposed that Cape Nun was discovered in 1433 by the
Knight Gilianez, despatched under the order of the celebrated Infante,
Henry, Duke of Viseo, and founder of the Academy of Sagres, which was
presided over by the pilot and cosmographer, Mestre Jacomè, of Majorca;
but the _Portulano Mediceo_,—the work of a Genoese navigator of the year
1351,—already contains the name of “Cavo di Non.” The doubling of this
Cape was as much dreaded as has been since then the passage round Cape
Horn; although it is only 23′ north of the parallel of Teneriffe, and
might be reached by a few days’ sail from Cadiz. The Portuguese adage,
“Quem passa o Cabo de Num, ou tornarà ou não,” could not intimidate the
Infante, whose heraldic French motto of “Talent de bien faire,” well
expressed his noble, enterprising, and vigorous character. The name of
this Cape, which has long been supposed to originate in a play of words
on the negative particle, does not appear to me to be of Portuguese
origin. Ptolemy placed on the north-west coast of Africa a river
_Nuius_, in the Latin version _Nunii ostia_. Edrisi refers to a town,
Nul, or Wadi Nun, somewhat further south, and about three days’ journey
in the interior, named by Leo Africanus _Belad de Non_. Several European
navigators had penetrated far to the south of Cape Nun before the
Portuguese squadron under Gilianez. The Catalan, Don Jayme Ferrer, in
1346, as we learn from the _Atlas Catalan_, published at Paris by
Buchon, had advanced as far as the Gold River (_Rio do Ouro_), in 23°
56′ north lat.; while the Normans, at the close of the fourteenth
century, reached Sierra Leone in 8° 30′ north latitude. The merit of
having been the first to cross the equator in the Western Ocean
incontrovertibly belongs, like so many other great achievements, to the
Portuguese.
Footnote 17:
p. 7.—“_As a grassy plain, resembling many of the Steppes of Central
Asia._”
The Llanos of Caracas, of the Rio Apure and the Meta, which are the
abode of numerous herds of cattle, are, in the strictest sense of the
word, grassy plains. The two families of the Cyperaceæ and the Gramineæ,
which are the principal representatives of the vegetation, yield
numerous forms of Paspalum (_Paspalum leptostachyum_, _P. lenticulare_),
of Kyllingia (_Kyllingia monocephala (Rottb.)_, _K. odorata_), of
Panicum (_Panicum granuliferum_, _P. micranthum_), of Antephora,
Aristida, Vilfa, and Anthisteria (_Anthisteria reflexa_, _A. foliosa_).
It is only here and there that any herbaceous dicotyledon, as the
low-growing species of Mimosa intermedia and M. dormiens, which are so
grateful to the wild horses and cattle, are found interspersed among the
Gramineæ. The natives very characteristically apply to this group the
name of “Dormideras,” or sleepy plants, because the delicate and
feathery leaves close on being touched. For many square miles not a tree
is to be seen; but where a few solitary trees are found, they are, in
humid districts, the Mauritia Palm, and, in arid spots, a Proteacea
described by Bonpland and myself, the Rhopala complicata (_Chaparro
bobo_), which Willdenow regarded as an Embothrium; also the useful Palma
de Covija or de Sombrero; and our Corypha inermis, an umbrella palm
allied to Chamærops, and used by the natives for the covering of their
huts. How much more varied and rich is the aspect of the Asiatic plains!
In a great portion of the Kirghis and Kalmuck Steppes which I have
traversed (extending over a space of 40 degrees of longitude), from the
Don, the Caspian Sea and the Orenburg-Ural river Jaik, to the Obi and
the Upper Irtysch, near the Lake Dsaisang, the extreme range of view is
never bounded by a horizon in which the vault of heaven appears to rest
on an unbroken sea-like plain, as is so frequently the case in the
Llanos, Pampas, and Prairies of America. I have, indeed, never observed
anything approaching to this phenomenon, excepting, perhaps, where I
have looked only towards one quarter of the heavens, for the Asiatic
plains are frequently intersected by chains of hills, or clothed with
coniferous woods. The Asiatic vegetation, too, in the most fruitful
pasture lands, is by no means limited to the family of the Cyperaceæ,
but is enriched by a great variety of herbaceous plants and shrubs. In
the season of spring, small snowy white and red flowering Rosaceæ and
Amygdaleæ (_Spiræa_, _Cratægus_, _Prunus spinosa_, _Amygdalus nana_),
present a pleasing appearance. I have elsewhere spoken of the tall and
luxuriant Synanthereæ (_Saussurea amara_, _S. salsa_, _Artemisiæ_, and
_Centaureæ_), and of leguminous plants, (species of the Astragalus,
Cytisus and Caragana). Crown Imperials (_Fritillaria ruthenica_ and _F.
meleagroides_), Cypripediæ and tulips gladden the eye with their varied
and bright hues.
A contrast is presented to this charming vegetation of the Asiatic
plains by the dreary Salt Steppes, especially by that portion of the
Barabinski Steppe which lies at the base of the Altai Mountains, between
Barnaul and the Serpent Mountain, and by the country to the east of the
Caspian. Here the social Chenopodiæ, species of Salsola, Atriplex,
Salicorniæ, and Halimocnemis crassifolia[DU], cover the clayey soil with
patches of verdure. Among the five hundred phanerogamic species which
Claus and Göbel collected on the Steppes, Synanthereæ, Chenopodiæ, and
Cruciferæ were more numerous than the grasses; the latter constituting
only ¹⁄₁₁th of the whole, and the two former ⅐th and ⅑th. In Germany,
owing to the alternation of hills and plains, the Glumaceæ (comprising
the Gramineæ, Cyperaceæ, and Juncaceæ) constitute ⅐th, the Synanthereæ
(Compositæ) ⅛th, and the Cruciferæ ¹⁄₁₈th of all the German Phanerogamic
species. In the most northern part of the flat land of Siberia, the
extreme limit of tree and shrub vegetation (_Coniferæ_ and _Amentaceæ_)
is, according to Admiral Wrangell’s fine map, 67° 15′ north lat., in the
districts contiguous to Behring’s Straits, while more to the west,
towards the banks of the Lena, it is 71°, which is the parallel of the
North Cape of Lapland. The plains bordering on the Polar Sea are the
domain of Cryptogamic plants. They are called Tundra (Tuntur in
Finnish), and are vast swampy districts, covered partly with a thick
mantle of Sphagnum palustre and other Liverworts, and partly with a dry
snowy-white carpet of Cenomyce rangiferina (Reindeer-moss), Stereocaulon
paschale, and other lichens. “These _Tundra_,” says Admiral Wrangell, in
his perilous expedition to the Islands of New Siberia, so rich in fossil
wood, “accompanied me to the extremest Arctic coast. Their soil is
composed of earth that has been frozen for thousands of years. In the
dreary uniformity of the landscape, and surrounded by reindeer, the eye
of the traveller rests with pleasure on the smallest patch of green turf
that shows itself on a moist spot.”
Footnote 18:
p. 7.—“_A diversity of causes diminishes the dryness and heat of the New
Continent._”
I have endeavoured to compress the various causes of the humidity and
lesser heat of America into one general category. It will of course be
understood, that I can only have reference here to the _general_
hygroscopic condition of the atmosphere, and the temperature of the
_whole_ continent; for in considering individual regions, as for
instance, the island of Margarita, or the coasts of Cumana and Coro, it
will be found that these exhibit an equal degree of dryness and heat
with any portion of Africa.
The maximum of heat, at certain hours of a summer’s day, considered with
reference to a long series of years, has been found to be almost the
same in all regions of the earth, whether on the Neva, the Senegal, the
Ganges, or the Orinoco, namely, between 93° and 104° Fahr., and on the
whole not higher; provided that the observation be made in the shade,
far from solid radiating bodies, and not in an atmosphere filled with
heated dust or granules of sand, and not with spirit-thermometers, which
absorb light. The fine grains of sand (forming centres of radiant heat)
which float in the air, were probably the cause of the fearful heat
(122° to 133° Fahr. in the shade) in the Oasis of Mourzouk to which my
unhappy friend Ritchie, who perished there, and Captain Lyon, were
exposed for weeks. The most remarkable instance of a high temperature,
in an air probably free from dust, is mentioned by an observer who well
knew how to arrange and correct all his instruments with the greatest
accuracy. Rüppel found the temperature 110°.6 Fahr. at Ambukol, in
Abyssinia, with a cloudy sky, a strong south-west wind, and an
approaching thunder-storm. The _mean_ annual temperature of the tropics,
or the actual climate of the region of palms, is on the main land
between 78°.2 and 85°.5 Fahr., without any sensible difference between
the observations made in Senegal, Pondichery, and Surinam[DV].
The great coolness, one might almost say _coldness_, which prevails
during a great portion of the year in the tropics, on the coast of Peru,
and which causes the mercury to fall to 59° Fahr., is, as I hope to show
in another place, not to be attributed to the effect of neighbouring
mountains covered with snow, but rather to the mist (_garua_) which
obscures the sun’s disk, and to a current of _cold sea-water_ commencing
in the antarctic regions, and which coming from the south-west, strikes
the coast of Chili near Valdivia and Concepcion, and is thence propelled
with violence, in a northerly direction, to Cape Pariña. On the coast of
Lima, the temperature of the Pacific is 60°.2 Fahr., whilst it is 79°.2
Fahr. under the same parallel of latitude when outside the current. It
is singular, that so remarkable a fact should have remained unnoticed,
until my residence on the coast of the Pacific, in October, 1802.
The variations of temperature, of many parts of the earth, depend
principally on the character of the bottom of the aërial ocean, or in
other words, on the nature of the solid or fluid (continental or
oceanic) base on which the atmosphere rests. Seas, traversed in various
directions by currents of warm and cold water (oceanic rivers), exert a
different action from articulated or inarticulated continental masses or
islands, which may be regarded as the shoals in the aërial ocean, and
which, notwithstanding their small dimensions, exercise, even to great
distances, a remarkable degree of influence on the climate of the sea.
In continental masses, we must distinguish between barren sandy deserts,
savannahs, (grassy plains,) and forest districts. In Upper Egypt and in
South America, Nouet and myself found, at noon, the temperature of the
ground, which was composed of granitic sand, 154° and 141° Fahr.
Numerous careful observations instituted at Paris, have given, according
to Arago, 122° and 126°.5 Fahr.[DW] The Savannahs, which, between the
Missouri and the Mississippi, are called _Prairies_, and which appear in
the south at the Llanos of Venezuela and the Pampas of Buenos Ayres, are
covered with small monocotyledons, belonging to the family of the
Cyperaceæ, and with grasses, whose dry pointed stalks, and whose
delicate, lanceolate leaves radiate towards the unclouded sky, and
possess an extraordinary power of emission. Wells and Daniell[DX] have
even seen in our latitude, where the atmosphere has a much less
considerable degree of transparency, the thermometer fall to 14°.5, or
18° Fahr. on being placed on the grass. Melloni has most ably shown[DY]
that in a calm, which is a necessary condition of a powerful radiation,
and of the formation of dew, the cooling of the stratum of grass is
promoted by the falling to the ground of the cooler particles of air, as
being the heavier.
In the vicinity of the equator, under the cloudy sky of the Upper
Orinoco, the Rio Negro and the Amazon, the plains are covered with dense
primeval forests; but to the north and south of this woody district,
there extend, from the zone of palms and of tall dicotyledonous trees in
the northern hemisphere, the Llanos of the Lower Orinoco, the Meta, and
Guaviare; and in the south, the Pampas of the Rio de la Plata and of
Patagonia. The area thus covered by grassy plains, or Savannahs, in
South America, is at least nine times greater than that of France.
The forest region acts in a threefold manner, by the coolness induced by
its shade, by evaporation, and by the cooling process of radiation.
Forests uniformly composed in our temperate zone of “social” plants,
belonging to the families of the Coniferæ or Amentaceæ (the oak, beech,
and birch), and under the tropics composed of plants not living
socially, protect the ground from direct insolation, evaporate the
fluids they have themselves produced, and cool the contiguous strata of
air by the radiation of heat from their leafy appendicular organs. The
leaves are by no means all parallel to one another, and present
different inclinations towards the horizon; and according to the laws
established by Leslie and Fourier, the influence of this inclination on
the quantity of heat emitted by radiation is such, that the radiating
power of a given measured surface _a_, having a given oblique direction,
is equal to the radiating power of a leaf of the size of _a_ projected
on a horizontal plane. In the initial condition of radiation of all the
leaves which form the summit of a tree, and which partially cover each
other, those which are directly presented towards the unclouded sky,
will be first cooled.
This production of cold (or the exhaustion of heat by emission) will be
the more considerable in proportion to the thinness of the leaves. A
second stratum of leaves has its upper surface turned to the under
surface of the former, and will give out more heat by radiation towards
that stratum than it can receive from it. The result of this unequal
exchange will then be a diminution of temperature for the second stratum
also. A similar action will extend from stratum to stratum, till all the
leaves of the tree, by their greater or less radiation, as modified by
their difference of position, have passed into a condition of stable
equilibrium, of which the law may be deduced by mathematical analysis.
In this manner, in the serene and long nights of the equinoctial zone,
the forest air, which is contained in the interstices between the strata
of leaves, becomes cooled by the process of radiation; for a tree, a
horizontal section of whose summit would hardly measure 2000 square
feet, would, in consequence of the great number of its appendicular
organs (the leaves), produce as great a diminution in the temperature of
the air as a space of bare land or turf many thousand times greater than
2000 square feet.[DZ] I have thus sought to develope somewhat fully the
complicated relations which the action of great forest regions exerts on
the atmosphere, because they have so often been touched upon in
connection with the important question of the climate of ancient Germany
and Gaul.
As in the old continent, European civilization has had its principal
seat on the western coast, it could not fail to be early remarked that
under equal degrees of latitude the opposite eastern littoral region of
the United States of North America was several degrees colder, in mean
annual temperature, than Europe, which is, as it were, a western
peninsula of Asia, and bears much the same relation to it as Brittany
does to the rest of France. The fact, however, escaped notice that these
differences decrease from the higher to the lower latitudes, and that
they are hardly perceptible below 30°. For the west coast of the New
Continent exact observations of the temperature are still almost
entirely wanting; but the mildness of the winter in New California shows
that in reference to their mean annual temperature, the west coasts of
America and Europe under the same parallels, scarcely present any
differences. The annexed table gives the mean annual temperatures, which
correspond to the same geographical latitudes, on the eastern coast of
the New Continent and the western coast of Europe:—
──────────┬────────────┬──────────┬─────────────────┬──────────────────
│ │ │ │Difference between
Similar │ Eastern │ Western │Mean Temperature │ the annual
Degrees of│ Coast of │ Coast of │ of the Year, of │ Temperature of
Latitude. │ America. │ Europe. │ Winter, and │ Eastern America
│ │ │ Summer. │ and Western
│ │ │ │ Europe.
──────────┼────────────┼──────────┼─────────────────┼──────────────────
│ │ │ - 0°.4│
57° 10′│Nain │ │ 25°.7 —————│
│ │ │ 45°.7│
│ │ │ │ 20°.7
│ │ │ 31°.5│
57° 41′│ │Gottenburg│ 46°.4 —————│
│ │ │ 62°.4│
══════════╪════════════╪══════════╪═════════════════╪══════════════════
│ │ │ 23°│
47° 34′│St. John’s │ │ 38°.1 —————│
│ │ │ 54°│
│ │ │ │
│ │ │ 31°.1│
47° 30′│ │Buda │ 50°.5 —————│ 13°.6
│ │ │ 69°.8│
│ │ │ │
│ │ │ 37°.8│
48° 50′│ │Paris │ 51°.7 —————│
│ │ │ 64°.6│
══════════╪════════════╪══════════╪═════════════════╪══════════════════
│ │ │ 24°.1│
44° 39′│Halifax │ │ 43°.5 —————│
│ │ │ 63°.0│
│ │ │ │
│ │ │ │ 13°.7
│ │ │ 42°.8│
44° 50′│ │Bordeaux │ 57°.2 —————│
│ │ │ 71°.1│
│ │ │ 32°.2│
40° 43′│New York │ │ 52°.5 —————│
│ │ │ 72°.9│
│ │ │ │
│ │ │ 32°.2│
39° 57′│Philadelphia│ │ 52°.2 —————│
│ │ │ 72°.7│
│ │ │ │
│ │ │ 36°.0│
38° 53′│Washington │ │ 54°.9 —————│ 9°.3
│ │ │ 71°.1│
│ │ │ │
│ │ │ 49°.5│
40° 51′│ │Naples │ 61°.0 —————│
│ │ │ 74°.9│
│ │ │ │
│ │ │ 52°.2│
38° 52′│ │Lisbon │ 61°.5 —————│
│ │ │ 71°.1│
══════════╪════════════╪══════════╪═════════════════╪══════════════════
│ │ │ 59°.5│
29° 48′│St. Agustin │ │ 72°.3 —————│
│ │ │ 81°.5│
│ │ │ │ 0°.5
│ │ │ 58°.5│
30° 2′│ │Cairo │ 71°.8 —————│
│ │ │ 84°.6│
──────────┴────────────┴──────────┴─────────────────┴──────────────────
In the preceding table the number placed before the fraction represents
the mean annual temperature, the numerator of the fraction, the mean
winter temperature, and the denominator the mean summer temperature.
Besides the more marked difference between the mean annual temperatures,
there is also a very striking contrast between the opposite coasts in
respect to the distribution of heat over the different seasons of the
year; and it is indeed this distribution which exerts the greatest
influence on our bodily feelings and on the process of vegetation.
Dove[EA] makes the general remark, that the summer temperature of
America is lower under equal degrees of latitude than that of Europe.
The climate of St. Petersburgh (lat. 59° 56′), or to speak more
correctly, the mean annual temperature of that city, is found on the
eastern coast of America, in lat. 47° 30′, or 12° 30′ more to the south;
and in like manner we find the climate of Königsberg (lat. 54° 43′) at
Halifax in lat. 44° 39′. Toulouse (lat. 43° 36′) corresponds in its
thermic relations to Washington.
It is very hazardous to attempt to obtain any general results respecting
the distribution of heat in the United States of North America, since
there are three regions to be distinguished—1, the region of the
Atlantic States, east of the Alleghanys; 2, the Western States, in the
wide basin between the Alleghanys and the Rocky Mountains, watered by
the Mississippi, the Ohio, the Arkansas, and the Missouri; and 3, the
elevated plains between the Rocky Mountains and the Coast Range of New
California, through which the Oregon or Columbia river wends its course.
Since the commendable establishment by John Calhoun of uninterrupted
observations of temperature, made on a uniform plan, at thirty-five
military stations, and reduced to diurnal, mensal, and annual means, we
have attained more correct climatic views than were generally held in
the time of Jefferson, Barton, and Volney. These meteorological stations
extend from the point of Florida and Thompson’s Island (West Key), lat.
24° 33′, to the Council Bluffs on the Missouri; and if we reckon Fort
Vancouver (lat. 45° 37′), among them, they include a space extending
over forty degrees of longitude.
It cannot be affirmed that on the whole the second region has a higher
mean annual temperature than the first, or Atlantic. The further advance
towards the north of certain plants on the western side of the
Alleghanys, depends partly on the nature of those plants and partly on
the different distribution through the seasons of the year of the same
annual amount of heat. The broad valley of the Mississippi enjoys, at
its northern extremity, the warming influence of the Canadian lakes, and
at the south, that of the Mexican Gulf-Stream. These five lakes (Lakes
Superior, Michigan, Huron, Erie, and Ontario,) cover an area of 92,000
square miles. The climate is so much milder and more uniform in the
vicinity of the lakes, that at Niagara, for instance (in 43° 15′ north
lat.), the mean annual winter temperature is only half a degree below
the freezing-point, whilst, at a distance from the lakes, in 44° 53′
north lat. at Fort Snelling, near the confluence of the river St. Peter
with the Mississippi, the mean winter temperature is 15°.8 Fahr.[EB] At
this distance from the Canadian lakes, whose surface is from five to
upwards of six hundred feet _above_ the sea’s level, whilst the bottom
of Lakes Michigan and Huron is five hundred feet _below_ it, recent
observations have shown that the climate of the country possesses the
actual continental character of hotter summers and colder winters. “It
is proved,” says Forry, “by our thermometrical data, that the climate
west of the Alleghany chain is more _excessive_ than that on the
Atlantic side.” At Fort Gibson, on the Arkansas river, which falls into
the Mississippi, in lat. 35° 47′, where the mean annual temperature
hardly equals that of Gibraltar, the thermometer was observed, in
August, 1834, to rise to 117° Fahr. when in the shade, and without any
reflected heat from the ground.
The statements so frequently advanced, although unsupported by
measurements, that since the first European settlements in New England,
Pennsylvania, and Virginia, the destruction of many forests on both
sides of the Alleghanys, has rendered the climate more equable,—making
the winters milder and the summers cooler,—are now generally
discredited. No series of thermometric observations worthy of confidence
extend further back in the United States than seventy-eight years. We
find from the Philadelphia observations that from 1771 to 1824, the mean
annual heat has hardly risen 2°.7 Fahr.;—an increase that may fairly be
ascribed to the extension of the town, its greater population, and to
the numerous steam-engines. This annual increase of temperature may also
be owing to accident, for in the same period I find that there was an
increase of the mean winter temperature of 2° Fahr.; but with this
exception the seasons had all become somewhat warmer. Thirty-three
years’ observations at Salem in Massachusetts show scarcely any
difference, the mean of each one oscillating within 1° of Fahrenheit,
about the mean of the whole number; and the winters of Salem, instead of
having been rendered more mild, as conjectured, from the eradication of
the forests, have become colder by 4° Fahr. during the last thirty-three
years.[EC]
As the east coast of the United States may be compared, in equal
latitudes, with the Siberian and Chinese eastern coasts of Europe, in
respect to mean annual temperature, so the western coasts of Europe and
America have also very justly been compared together. I will here only
adduce a few instances from the western region of the Pacific, for two
of which, viz., Sitka. (New Archangel,) in Russian America, and Fort
George. (having the same latitudes respectively as Gottenburg and
Geneva,) we are indebted to Admiral Lütke’s voyage of circumnavigation.
Iluluk and Danzig are situated in about the same parallel of latitude,
and although the mean temperature of Iluluk, owing to its insular
climate and the cold sea current contiguous to it, is lower than that of
Danzig, the winters of the former are milder than those of the Baltic
city.
33°.3
Sitka Lat. 57° 3′ Long. 135° 16′ W. 44°.6 —————
55°.0
31°.6
Gottenburg Lat. 57° 41′ Long. 11° 59′ E. 46°.4 —————
62°.4
37°.8
Fort George Lat. 46° 18′ Long. 123° 58′ W. 50°.2 —————
60.°0
33.°6
Geneva Lat. 46° 12′ Altitude 1298 feet 49°.8 —————
63°.5
25°.0
Cherson Lat. 46° 38′ Long. 32° 39′ E. 53°.1 —————
71°.0
Snow is hardly ever seen on the banks of the Oregon or Columbia river,
and ice on the river lasts only a few days. The lowest temperature which
Mr. Ball ever observed there (in 1838) was 18°.4 Fahr.[ED] A cursory
glance at the summer and winter temperatures given above, suffices to
show that a true insular climate prevails on and near the western
coasts; whilst the winter cold is less considerable than in the western
part of the old continent, the summers are much cooler. This contrast is
made most apparent when we compare the mouth of the Oregon with Forts
Snelling and Howard, and the Council Bluffs in the interior of the
Mississippi and Missouri basin, (44°–46° north lat.,) where, to speak
with Buffon, we find an _excessive_ or true _continental_ climate,—a
winter cold, which on some days is –32° or even –37° Fahr., followed by
a mean summer’s heat, which rises to 69° and 71°.4 Fahr.
Footnote 19:
p. 8.—“_As if America had emerged later from the chaotic covering of
waters._”
The acute natural inquirer Benjamin Smith Barton, expresses himself thus
accurately:[EE]—“I cannot but deem it a puerile supposition, unsupported
by the evidence of nature, that a great part of America has probably
later emerged from the bosom of the ocean than the other continents.” I
have already elsewhere treated of this subject in a memoir on the
primitive nations of America:[EF]—“The remark has been too frequently
made by authors of general and well-attested merit that America was in
every sense of the word a _new_ continent. The luxuriance of vegetation,
the vast mass of waters in the rivers, and the continued activity of
great volcanoes, confirm the fact (say these writers,) that the still
agitated and humid earth is in a condition approximating more closely to
the chaotic primordial state of our planet than the old continent. Such
ideas appeared to me, long before my travels in those regions, no less
unphilosophical than at variance with generally acknowledged physical
laws. These imaginary representations of an earlier age and a want of
repose, and of the increase of dryness and inertia with the increased
age of our globe, could only have been framed by those who seek to
discover striking contrasts between the two hemispheres, and who do not
endeavour to consider the construction of our terrestrial planet from
one grand and general point of view. Are we to regard the southern as
more recent than the northern part of Italy, simply because the former
is almost constantly disturbed by earthquakes and volcanic eruptions?
How inconsiderable, moreover, are the phenomena presented by our
volcanoes and earthquakes, when compared with the convulsions of nature
which the geognosist must conjecture to have occurred in the chaotic
condition of our globe, when mountain masses were upheaved, solidified,
or cleft asunder? Different causes must also occasion a diversity of
effects in the forces of nature in parts of the earth remote from one
another. The volcanoes in the new continent,” (of which I still count
about twenty-eight,) “may probably have continued longer active, because
the high mountain ridges on which they are erupted in rows upon long
fissures are nearer to the sea, and because this vicinity appears to
modify the energy of the subterranean fire, in a manner which, with few
exceptions, has not yet been explained. Besides, both earthquakes and
fire-erupting mountains act periodically. At present” (this I wrote
forty-two years ago,) “physical disquietude and political repose prevail
in the new continent, whilst in the old continent the calm repose of
nature is contrasted with the dissensions of different nations. The time
may however come, when this strange contrast between physical and moral
forces may change its theatre of action from one quarter of the world to
another. Volcanoes enjoy centuries of repose between their
manifestations of activity; and the idea that in the older countries
nature must be characterized by a certain repose and quietude, has no
other foundation than in the mere caprice of the imagination. There
exists no reason for assuming that one side of our planet is older or
more recent than the other. Islands, as the Azores and many flat islands
of the Pacific, which have been upheaved by volcanoes, or been gradually
formed by coral animals, are indeed more recent than many plutonic
formations of the European central chain. Small tracts of land, as
Bohemia and Kashmeer, and many of the valleys in the moon, inclosed by a
ring of mountains, may continue for a long time under the form of a sea,
owing to partial inundations, and after the flowing off of these inland
waters, the bottom, on which plants would gradually manifest themselves,
might indeed be figuratively regarded as of more recent origin. Islands
have been connected together into continental masses by upheaval, whilst
other parts of the previously existing land have disappeared in
consequence of the subsidence of the oscillating ground; but general
submersions can, from hydrostatic laws, only be imagined as embracing
simultaneously all parts of the earth. The sea cannot permanently
submerge the vast lowlands of the Orinoco and the Amazon, without at the
same time destroying our Baltic lands. Moreover the succession and
identity of the floetz strata, and of the organic remains of plants and
animals belonging to the primitive world, inclosed in those strata, show
that several great depositions have occurred almost simultaneously over
the whole earth.”[EG]
Footnote 20:
p. 8.—“_The Southern Hemisphere is cooler and more humid than the
Northern._”
Chili, Buenos Ayres, the southern part of Brazil, and Peru, enjoy the
cool summers and mild winters of a true _insular climate_, owing to the
narrowness and contraction of the continent towards the south. This
advantage of the Southern Hemisphere is manifested as far as 48° or 50°
south lat., but beyond that point, and nearer the Antarctic Pole, South
America is an inhospitable waste. The different degrees of latitude at
which the _southern_ extremities of Australia, including Van Diemen’s
Island, of Africa, and America, terminate, give to each of these
continents its peculiar character. The Straits of Magellan lie between
the parallels of 53° and 54° south lat.; and notwithstanding this, the
thermometer falls to 41° Fahr. in the months of December and January,
when the sun is eighteen hours above the horizon. Snow falls almost
daily in the lowlands, and the maximum of atmospheric heat observed by
Churruca in 1788, during the month of December, and consequently in the
summer of that region, did not exceed 52°.2 Fahr. The Cabo Pilar, whose
turret-like rock is only 1394 feet in height, and which forms the
southern extremity of the chain of the Andes, is situated in nearly the
same latitude as Berlin.[EH]
Whilst in the Northern Hemisphere all continents fall, in their
prolongation towards the Pole, within a mean limit, which corresponds
tolerably accurately with 70°, the southern extremities of America. (in
Tierra del Fuego, which is so deeply indented by intersecting arms of
the sea,) of Australia, and of Africa, are respectively 34°, 46° 30′ and
56° distant from the South Pole. The temperature of the unequal extents
of ocean which separate these southern extremities from the icy Pole
contributes essentially towards the modification of the climate. The
areas of the dry land of the two hemispheres separated by the equator
are as 3 to 1. But this deficiency of continental masses in the Southern
Hemisphere is greater in the temperate than in the torrid zone, the
ratio being in the former at 13 to 1, and in the latter as 5 to 4. This
great inequality in the distribution of dry land exerts a perceptible
influence on the strength of the ascending atmospheric current, which
turns towards the South Pole, and on the temperature of the Southern
Hemisphere generally. Some of the noblest forms of tropical vegetation,
as for instance tree-ferns, advance south of the equator to the
parallels of from 46° to 53°, whilst to the north of the equator they do
not occur beyond the tropic of Cancer.[EI] Tree-ferns thrive admirably
well at Hobart Town in Van Diemen’s Land (42° 53′ lat.), with a mean
annual temperature of 52°.2 Fahr., and therefore on an isothermal line
less by 3°.6 Fahr. than that of Toulon. Rome, which is almost one degree
of latitude further from the equator than Hobart Town, has an annual
temperature of 59°.7 Fahr.; a winter temperature of 46°.6 Fahr., and a
summer temperature of 86° Fahr.; whilst in Hobart Town these three means
are respectively 52°, 42°.1, and 63° Fahr. In Dusky Bay, New Zealand,
tree-ferns thrive in 46° 8′ lat., and in the Auckland and Campbell
Islands in 53° lat.[EJ]
In the Archipelago of Tierra del Fuego, having a mean winter temperature
of 33° Fahr., and a mean summer temperature of only 50° Fahr., in the
same latitude as Dublin, Captain King found “vegetation thriving most
luxuriantly in large woody-stemmed trees of Fuchsia and Veronica;”
whilst this vigorous vegetation, which, especially on the western coast
of America (in 38° and 40° south lat.), has been so picturesquely
described by Charles Darwin, suddenly disappears south of Cape Horn, on
the rocks of the Southern Orkney and Shetland Islands, and of the
Sandwich Archipelago. These islands, but scantily covered with grass,
moss, and lichens, _Terres de Désolation_, as they have been called by
French navigators, lie far to the north of the Antarctic Polar Circle;
whilst in the Northern Hemisphere, in 70° lat., on the extremest verge
of Scandinavia, fir-trees reach a height of more than 60 feet.[EK] If we
compare Tierra del Fuego, and more particularly Port Famine, in the
Straits of Magellan, 53° 38′ lat., with Berlin, which is situated one
degree nearer the equator, we shall find for Berlin, 47°.3
^{38°.9}/_{62°.3}; and for Port Famine, 42°.6 ^{34°.7}/_{50°.0} Fahr. I
subjoin the few certain data of temperature which we at present possess
of the temperate zones of the Southern Hemisphere, and which may be
compared with the temperatures of northern regions in which the
distribution of summer heat and winter cold is so unequal. I make use of
the convenient mode of notation already explained in which the number
standing before the fraction indicates the mean annual temperature, the
numerator the winter, and the denominator the summer temperature.
───────────────────────────────────┬───────────┬───────────────────────
│ South │ Mean Annual, Winter,
Places. │ Latitude. │ and Summer
│ │ Temperatures.
───────────────────────────────────┼───────────┼───────────┬───────────
│ │ │ 54°.5
Sydney and Paramatta (New Holland) │ 33° 50′│ 64°.6│ —————
│ │ │ 77°.5
│ │ │
│ │ │ 58°.5
Cape Town (Africa). │ 33° 55′│ 65°.7│ —————
│ │ │ 73°.2
│ │ │
│ │ │ 52°.5
Buenos Ayres │ 34° 17′│ 62°.4│ —————
│ │ │ 73°.0
│ │ │
│ │ │ 57°.4
Monte Video │ 34° 54′│ 67°│ —————
│ │ │ 77°.5
│ │ │
│ │ │ 42°.1
Hobart Town (Van Diemen’s Land) │ 42° 45′│ 52°.5│ —————
│ │ │ 63°.0
│ │ │
│ │ │ 34°.7
Port Famine (Straits of Magellan) │ 53° 38′│ 42°.6│ —————
│ │ │ 50°.0
───────────────────────────────────┴───────────┴───────────┴───────────
Footnote 21:
p. 9.—“_One connected sea of sand._”
As we may regard the social _Erica_ as furnishing one continuous
vegetable covering spread over the earth’s surface, from the mouth of
the Scheldt to the Elbe, and from the extremity of Jutland to the Harz
mountains, so may we likewise trace the sea of sand continuously through
Africa and Asia, from Cape Blanco to the further side of the Indus, over
an extent of 5,600 miles. The sandy region mentioned by Herodotus, which
the Arabs call the Desert of Sahara, and which is interrupted by oases,
traverses the whole of Africa like a dried arm of the sea. The valley of
the Nile is the eastern boundary of the Lybian desert. Beyond the
Isthmus of Suez and the porphyritic, syenitic, and greenstone rocks of
Sinai begins the Desert mountain plateau of Nedschd, which occupies the
whole interior of the Arabian Peninsula, and is bounded to the west and
south by the fruitful and more highly favoured coast-lands of Hedschaz
and Hadhramaut. The Euphrates forms the eastern boundary of the Arabian
and Syrian desert. The whole of Persia, from the Caspian Sea to the
Indian Ocean, is intersected by immense tracts of sand (_bejaban_),
among which we may reckon the soda and potash Deserts of Kerman,
Seistan, Beludschistan, and Mekran. The last of these barren wastes is
separated by the Indus from the Desert of Moultan.
Footnote 22:
p. 9.—“_The western portion of Mount Atlas._”
The question of the position of the Atlas of the ancients has often been
agitated in our own day. In making this inquiry, ancient Phœnician
traditions are confounded with the statements of the Greeks and Romans
regarding Mount Atlas at a less remote period. The elder Professor
Ideler, who combined a profound knowledge of languages with that of
astronomy and mathematics, was the first to throw light on this obscure
subject; and I trust I may be pardoned if I insert the communications
with which I have been favoured by this enlightened observer.
“The Phœnicians ventured at a very early period in the world’s history
to penetrate beyond the Straits of Gibraltar. They founded Gades and
Tartessus on the Spanish, and Lixus, together with many other cities on
the Mauritanian coasts of the Atlantic Ocean. They sailed northward
along these shores to the Cassiterides, from whence they obtained tin,
and to the Prussian coasts where they procured amber found there; whilst
southward they penetrated as far as Madeira and the Cape de Verd
Islands. Amongst other regions they visited the Archipelago of the
Canary Isles, where their attention was arrested by the Peak of
Teneriffe, whose great height appears to be even more considerable than
it actually is from the circumstance of the mountain projecting directly
from the sea. Through their colonies established in Greece, especially
under Cadmus in Bœotia, the Greeks were made acquainted with the
existence of this mountain which soared high above the region of clouds,
and with the ‘Fortunate Islands’ on which this mountain was situated,
and which were adorned with fruits of all kinds, and particularly with
the golden orange. By the transmission of this tradition through the
songs of the bards, Homer became acquainted with these remote regions,
and he speaks of an Atlas to whom all the depths of ocean are known, and
who bears upon his shoulders the great columns which separate from one
another the heavens and the earth,[EL] and of the _Elysian Plains_,
described as a wondrously beautiful land in the west.”[EM] Hesiod
expresses himself in a similar manner regarding Atlas, whom he
represents as the neighbour of the Hesperides.[EN] The Elysian Plains,
which he places at the western limits of the earth, he terms the
‘Islands of the Blessed.’[EO] Later poets have still further embellished
these myths of Atlas, the Hesperides, their golden apples, and the
Islands of the Blessed, which are destined to be the abode of good men
after death, and have connected them with the expeditions of the Tyrian
God of Commerce, Melicertes, the Hercules of the Greeks.
“The Greeks did not enter into rivalship with the Phœnicians and
Carthaginians in the art of navigation until a comparatively late
period. They indeed visited the shores of the Atlantic, but they never
appear to have advanced very far. It is doubtful whether they had
penetrated as far as the Canary Isles and the Peak of Teneriffe; but be
this as it may, they were aware that Mount Atlas, which their poets had
described as a very high mountain situated on the western limits of the
earth, must be sought on the western coast of Africa. This too was the
locality assigned to it by their later geographers Strabo, Ptolemy, and
others. As however no mountain of any great elevation was to be met with
in the north-west of Africa, much perplexity was entertained regarding
the actual position of Mount Atlas, which was sought sometimes on the
coast, sometimes in the interior of the country, and sometimes in the
vicinity of the Mediterranean, or further southward. In the first
century of the Christian era, when the armies of Rome had penetrated to
the interior of Mauritania and Numidia, it was usual to give the name of
Atlas to the mountain chain which traverses Africa from west to east in
a parallel direction with the Mediterranean. Pliny and Solinus were
both, however, fully aware that the description of Atlas given by the
Greek and Roman poets did not apply to this mountain range, and they
therefore deemed it expedient to transfer the site of Mount Atlas, which
they described in picturesque terms, in accordance with poetic legends,
to the _terra incognita_ of Central Africa. The Atlas of Homer and
Hesiod can, therefore, be none other than the Peak of Teneriffe, while
the Atlas of Greek and Roman geographers must be sought in the north of
Africa.”
I will only venture to add the following remarks to the learned
explanations of Professor Ideler. According to Pliny and Solinus, Atlas
rises from the midst of a sandy plain (_e medio arenarum_), and its
declivity affords pasture to elephants, which have undoubtedly never
been known in Teneriffe. That which we now term Atlas is a long mountain
ridge. How could the Romans have recognised one isolated conical
elevation in this mountain range of Herodotus? May the cause not be
ascribed to the optical illusion by which every mountain chain, when
seen laterally from an oblique point of view, appears to be of a narrow
and conical form? I have often, when at sea, mistaken long mountain
ranges for isolated mountains. According to Höst, Mount Atlas is covered
with perpetual snow near Morocco. Its elevation must therefore be
upwards of 11,500 feet at that particular spot. It seems to me very
remarkable that the barbarians, the ancient Mauritanians, if we are to
believe the testimony of Pliny, called Mount Atlas _Dyris_. This
mountain chain is still called by the Arabs _Daran_, a word that is
almost identical in its consonants with _Dyris_. Hornius,[EP] on the
other hand, thinks that he recognises the term Dyris in the word
_Ayadyrma_, the name applied by the Guanches to the Peak of
Teneriffe.[EQ]
As our present geological knowledge of the mountainous parts of North
Africa, which, however, must be admitted to be very limited, does not
make us acquainted with any traces of volcanic eruptions within historic
times, it seems the more remarkable that so many indications should be
found in the writings of the Ancients of a belief in the existence of
such phenomena in the Western Atlas and the contiguous west coast of the
continent. The streams of fire so often mentioned in Hanno’s Ship’s
Journal might indeed have been tracks of burning grass, or beacon fires
lighted by the wild inhabitants of the coasts as a signal to warn each
other of threatening danger on the first appearance of hostile vessels.
The high summit of the “Chariot of the Gods,” of which Hanno speaks (the
θεῶν ὄχημα), may also have had some faint reference to the Peak of
Teneriffe; but farther on he describes a singular configuration of the
land. He finds in the gulf, near the Western Horn, a large island, in
which there is a salt lake, which again contains a smaller island. South
of the Bay of the Gorilla Apes the same conformation is repeated. Does
he refer to coral structures, lagoon islands (Atolls), and to volcanic
crater lakes, in the middle of which a conical mountain has been
upheaved? The Triton Lake was not in the neighbourhood of the lesser
Syrtis, but on the western shores of the Atlantic.[ER] The lake
disappeared in an earthquake, which was attended with great
fire-eruptions. Diodorus[ES] says expressly πυρὸς εκφυτήματα μεγάλα. But
the most wonderful configuration is ascribed to the hollow Atlas, in a
passage hitherto but little noticed in one of the philosophical Dialexes
of Maximus Tyrius, a Platonic philosopher who lived in Rome under
Commodus. _His_ Atlas is situated “on the continent where the Western
Lybians inhabit a projecting peninsula.” The mountain has a deep
semi-circular abyss on the side nearest the sea; and its declivities are
so steep that they cannot be descended. The abyss is filled with trees,
and “one looks down upon their summits and the fruits they bear as if
one were looking into a well.”[ET] The description is so minute and
graphic that it no doubt sprung from the recollection of some actual
view.
Footnote 23:
p. 9.—“_The Mountains of the Moon, Djebel-al-Komr._”
The Mountains of the Moon described by Ptolemy,[EU] σελήνης ὄρος, form
on our older maps a vast uninterrupted mountain chain, traversing the
whole of Africa from east to west. The existence of these mountains
seems certain; but their extent, their distance from the equator, and
their mean direction, still remain problematical. I have indicated in
another work[EV] the manner in which a more intimate acquaintance with
Indian idioms and the ancient Persian or Zend teaches us that a part of
the geographical nomenclature of Ptolemy constitutes an historical
memorial of the commercial relations that existed between the West and
the remotest regions of Southern Asia and Eastern Africa. The same
direction of ideas is apparent in relation to a subject that has very
recently become a matter of investigation. It is asked, whether the
great geographer and astronomer of Pelusium merely meant in the
denomination of Mountains of the Moon (as in that of “Island of Barley,”
(Jabadiu, Java) to give the Greek translation of the native name of
those mountains; whether, as is most probable, El-Istachri, Edrisi,
Ibn-al-Vardi, and other early Arabian geographers, simply transferred
the Ptolemaic nomenclature into their own language; or whether
similarity in the sound of the word and the manner in which it was
written misled them? In the notes to the translation of Abd-Allatif’s
celebrated description of Egypt, my great teacher, Silvestre de
Sacy,[EW] expressly says, “The name of the mountains regarded by Leo
Africanus as furnishing the sources of the Nile, has generally been
rendered ‘Mountains of the Moon,’ and I have adhered to the same
practice. I do not know whether the Arabs originally borrowed this
denomination from Ptolemy. It may indeed be inferred that at the present
day they understand the word قمر in the sense of _moon_, pronouncing
it _kamar_; I do not think however, that such was the practice of the
older Arabs, who pronounced it _komr_, as has been proved by Makrizi.
Aboulfeda positively rejects the opinion of those who would adopt the
pronunciation _kamar_, and derive the word from the name of the moon.
As, according to the author of _Kamous_, the word _komr_, considered as
the plural of اقمر, signifies an object of a greenish or dirty white
colour, it would appear that some authors have supposed that this
mountain derived its name from its colour.”
The learned Reinaud, in his recent excellent translation of Abulfeda (t.
ii., p. i., pp. 81, 82), regards it as probable that the Ptolemaic
interpretation of the name of Mountains of the Moon (ὄρη σεληναῖα) was
that originally adopted by the Arabs. He observes that in the Moschtarek
of Yakut, and in Ibn-Said, the mountain is written al-Komr, and that
Yakut writes in a similar manner the name of the Island of Zendj
(Zanguebar). The Abyssinian traveller Beke, in his learned and critical
treatise on the Nile and its tributaries,[EX] endeavours to prove that
Ptolemy, in his σελήνης ὄρος, merely followed the native name, for the
knowledge of which he was indebted to the extensive commercial
intercourse which then existed. He says, “Ptolemy knew that the Nile
rises in the mountainous district of Moezi, and in the languages which
are spoken over a great part of Southern Africa (as, for instance, in
Congo, Monjou, and Mozambique), the word _moezi_ signifies the moon. A
large tract of country situated in the south-west was called Mono-Muezi,
or Mani-Moezi, _i.e._, the land of the King of Moezi (or Moon-land); for
in the same family of languages in which _moezi_ or _muezi_ signifies
the moon, _mono_ or _mani_ signifies a king. Alvarez[EY] speaks of the
‘regno di Manicongo,’ or territory of the king of Congo.” Beke’s
opponent, Ayrton, seeks the sources of the White Nile (Bahr el-Abiad),
not as do Arnaud, Werne, and Beke, near the equator, or south of it (in
31° 22′ E. long. from Greenwich), but far to the north-east, as does
Antoine d’Abbadie, in the Godjeb and Gibbe of Eneara (Iniara), therefore
in the high mountains of Habesch, in 7° 20′ north lat., and 35° 22′ east
long. from Greenwich. He is of opinion that the Arabs, from a similarity
of sound, may have interpreted the native name Gamaro, which was applied
to the Abyssinian mountains lying south-west of Gaka, and in which the
Godjeb (or White Nile) takes its rise, to signify a mountain of the moon
(Djebel al-Kamar); so that Ptolemy himself, who was familiar with the
intercourse existing between Abyssinia and the Indian Ocean, may have
adopted the Semitic interpretation, as given by the descendants of the
early Arab immigrants.[EZ]
The lively interest which has recently been felt in England for the
discovery of the most southern sources of the Nile induced the
Abyssinian traveller above referred to, (Charles Beke) at a recent
meeting of the “British Association for the advancement of Science,”
held at Swansea, more fully to develope his ideas respecting the
connection between the Mountains of the Moon and those of Habesch. “The
Abyssinian elevated plain,” he says, “generally above 8000 feet high,
extends towards the south to nearly 9° or 10° north latitude. The
eastern declivity of the highlands has, to the inhabitants of the coast,
the appearance of a mountain chain. The plateau, which diminishes
considerably in height towards its southern extremity, passes into the
Mountains of the Moon, which run not east and west, but parallel to the
coast, or from N.N.E. to S.S.W., extending from 10° north to 5° south
latitude. The sources of the White Nile are situated in the Mono-Moezi
country, probably in 2° 30′ south latitude, not far from where the river
Sabaki, on the eastern side of the Mountains of the Moon, falls into the
Indian Ocean, near Melindeh, north of Mombaza. Last autumn (1847), the
two Abyssinian missionaries Rebmann and Dr. Krapf were still on the
coast of Mombaza. They have established in the vicinity, among the
Wakamba tribe, a missionary station, called Rabbay Empie, which seems
likely to be very useful for geographical discoveries. Families of the
Wakamba tribe have advanced westward five or six hundred miles into the
interior of the country, as far as the upper course of the river
Lusidji, the great lake Nyassi or Zambeze (5° south lat.?), and the
vicinal sources of the Nile. The expedition to these sources, which
Friedrich Bialloblotzky, of Hanover, is preparing to undertake” (by the
advice of Beke), “is to start from Mombaza. The Nile coming from the
west referred to by the ancients is probably the Bahr-el-Ghazal, or
Keilah, which falls into the Nile in 9° north lat., above the mouth of
the Godjeb or Sobat.”
Russegger’s scientific expedition—undertaken in 1837 and 1838, in
consequence of Mehemet Ali’s eager desire to participate in the gold
washings of Fazokl on the Blue (Green) Nile, Bahr el-Azrek—has rendered
the existence of a Mountain of the Moon very doubtful. The Blue Nile,
the Astapus of Ptolemy, rising from Lake Coloe (now called Lake Tzana),
winds through the colossal Abyssinian range of mountains; while to the
south-west there appears a far extended tract of low land. The three
exploring expeditions which the Egyptian Government sent from Chartum to
the confluence of the Blue and the White Nile (the first under the
command of Selim Bimbaschi, in November, 1839; the next, which was
attended by the French engineers Arnaud, Sabatier, and Thibaut, in the
autumn of 1840; and the third, in the month of August, 1841), first
removed some of the obscurity which had hitherto shrouded our knowledge
of the high mountains, which between the parallels of 6°–4°, and
probably still further southward, extend first from west to east, and
subsequently from north-west to south-east, towards the left bank of the
Bahr-el-Abiad. The second of Mehemet Ali’s expeditions first saw the
mountain chain, according to Werne’s account, in 11° 20′ north lat.,
where Gebel Abul and Gebel Kutak rise to the height of 3623 feet. The
high land continued to approach the river more to the south from 4° 45′
north lat. to the parallel of the Island of Tchenker in 4° 4′, near the
point at which terminated the expedition commanded by Selim and Feizulla
Effendi. The shallow river breaks its way through the rocks, and
separate mountains again rise in the land of Bari to the height of more
than 3200 feet. These are probably a part of the Mountains of the Moon,
as they are given in our most recent maps, although they are not covered
with perpetual snow, as asserted by Ptolemy.[FA] The line of perpetual
snow would assuredly not be found in these parallels of latitude below
an elevation of nearly 15,500 feet above the sea’s level. It is not
improbable that Ptolemy extended the knowledge he may have possessed of
the high mountains of Habesch, near Upper Egypt and the Red Sea, to the
country of the sources of the White Nile. In Godjam, Kaffa, Miecha, and
Sami, the Abyssinian mountains rise from 10,000 to nearly 15,000 feet,
as we learn from exact measurements; (not according to those of Bruce,
who gives to Chartum an elevation of 5041 feet, instead of the true
height, 1524 feet!) Rüppell, who ranks amongst the most accurate
observers of the present day, found Abba Jarat (in 13° 10′ north lat.)
only 70 feet below the elevation of Mont Blanc,[FB] The same observer
states that a plain, elevated 13,940 feet above the Red Sea, was barely
covered with a thin layer of freshly fallen snow.[FC] The celebrated
inscription of Adulis, which, according to Niebuhr, is of somewhat later
date than the age of Juba and Augustus, speaks of “Abyssinian snow that
reaches to the knee,” and affords, I believe, the most ancient record in
antiquity of snow within the tropics,[FD] as the Paropanisus is 12° lat.
north of that limit.
Zimmermann’s map of the district of the Upper Nile shows the dividing
line where the basin of the great river terminates in the south-east,
and which separates it from the domain of the rivers belonging to the
Indian Ocean, viz.; from the Doara which empties itself north of
Magadoxo; from the Teb on the amber coast of Ogda; from the Goschop
whose abundant waters are derived from the confluence of the Gibu and
the Zebi, and which must be distinguished from the Godjeb, rendered
celebrated since 1839 by Antoine d’Abbadie, Beke, and the Missionary
Krapf. In a letter to Carl Ritter I hailed with the most lively joy the
appearance of the combined results of the recent travels of Beke, Krapf,
Isenberg, Russegger, Rüppel, Abbadie, and Werne, as ably and
comprehensively brought together in 1843 by Zimmermann. “If a prolonged
span of life,” I wrote to him, “bring with it many inconveniences to the
individual himself, and some to those about him, it yields a
compensation in the mental enjoyment, afforded by comparing the earlier
state of our knowledge with its more recent condition, and of seeing the
growth and development of many branches of science that had long
continued torpid, or whose actual fruits hypercriticism may even have
attempted to set aside. This genial enjoyment has from time to time
fallen to our lot in our geographical studies, and more especially in
reference to those portions of which we could hitherto only speak with a
certain timid hesitation. The internal configuration and articulation of
a continent depends in its leading characters on several plastic
relations which are usually among the latest to be elucidated. A new and
excellent work of our friend, Carl Zimmermann, on the district of the
Upper Nile and of the eastern portions of Central Africa, has made me
more vividly sensible of these considerations. This new map indicates,
in the clearest manner, by means of a special mode of shading, all that
still remains unknown, and all that by the courage and perseverance of
travellers of all nations (among which our own countrymen happily play
an important part), has already been disclosed to us. We may regard it
as alike important and useful that the actual condition of our
knowledge, should, at different periods, be graphically represented by
men well acquainted with the existing and often widely scattered
materials of knowledge, and who not merely delineate and compile, but
who know how to compare, select, and, where it is practicable, test the
routes of travellers by astronomical determinations of place. Those who
have contributed as much to the general stock of knowledge as you have
done, have indeed an especial right to expect much, since their
combinations have greatly increased the number of connecting points; yet
I scarcely think that when, in the year 1822, you executed your great
work on Africa, you could have anticipated so many additions as we have
received.” It must be admitted that, in some cases, we have only
acquired a knowledge of rivers, their direction, their branches, and
their numerous synonymes according to various languages and dialects;
but the courses of rivers indicate the configuration of the surface of
the earth, and exert a threefold influence; they promote vegetation,
facilitate general intercourse, and are pregnant with the future destiny
of man.
The northern course of the White Nile, and the south-eastern course of
the great Goschop, show that both rivers are separated by an elevation
of the surface of the earth; although we are as yet but imperfectly
acquainted with the manner in which such an elevation is connected with
the highlands of Habesch, or how it may be prolonged in a southerly
direction beyond the equator. Probably, and this is also the opinion of
my friend Carl Ritter, the Lupata Mountains, which, according to the
excellent Wilhelm Peters, extend to 26° south lat., are connected by
means of the Mountains of the Moon with this northern swelling of the
earth’s surface (the Abyssinian Highlands). _Lupata_, according to the
last-named African traveller, signifies, in the language of Tette,
_closed_, when used as an adjective. This mountain-range which is only
intersected by some few rivers would thus be the _closed_ or _barred_.
“The Lupata chain of the Portuguese writers,” says Peters, “is situated
about 90 leagues from the mouth of the Zambeze, and has an elevation of
little more than 2000 feet. This mural chain has a direction due north
and south, although it frequently deflects to the east or the west. It
is sometimes interrupted by plains. Along the coast of Zanzibar the
traders in the interior appear to be acquainted with this long, but not
very high range, which extends between 6° and 26° south lat. to the
Factory of Lourenzo-Marques on the Rio de Espirito Santo (in the Delagoa
Bay of the English). The further the Lupata chain extends to the south,
the nearer it approaches the coast, until at Lourenzo-Marques it is only
15 leagues distant from it.”
Footnote 24:
p. 10.—“_The consequence of the great rotatory movement of the waters._”