Importance of climatic influences--Climate in the interplay of
geographic factors--Its direct and indirect effects--Climate determines
the habitable area of the earth--Effect of climate upon relief and hence
upon man--Man's adaptability to climatic extremes--Temperature as
modified by oceans and winds--Rainfall--Temperature and zonal
location--Mutual reactions of contrasted zones--Isothermal lines in
anthropo-geography--Historical effects of compressed
isotherms--Historical effects of slight climatic differences--Their
influence upon distribution of immigration--Temperature and race
temperament--Complexity of this problem--Monotonous climatic
conditions--Effects of Arctic cold--Effect of monotonous heat--The
tropics as goals of migration--The problem of
acclimatization--Historical importance of the temperate zone--Contrast
of the seasons--Duration of the seasons--Effect of long winters and long
summers--Zones of culture--Temperate zone as cradle of civilization
INDEX
LIST OF MAPS.
DENSITY OF POPULATION IN THE EASTERN HEMISPHERE 8
DENSITY OF POPULATION IN THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE 9
POWELL'S MAP OF INDIAN LINGUISTIC STOCKS 54
PRIMITIVE INDIAN STOCKS OF SOUTH AMERICA 101
ETHNOGRAPHICAL MAP OF INDIA 102
ETHNOGRAPHICAL MAP OF ASIA 103
ETHNOGRAPHICAL MAP OF AFRICA 105
DISTRIBUTION OF WILD AND CIVILIZED TRIBES IN THE PHILIPPINES 147
DISTRIBUTION OF POPULATION IN THE PROVINCE OF FINMARKEN 153
DISTRIBUTION OF POPULATION IN THE UNITED STATES IN 1800 156
THE SLAV-GERMAN BOUNDARY IN EUROPE 223
ETHNOGRAPHICAL MAP OF RUSSIA 225
THE GERMAN NORTH SEA COAST 243
ANCIENT PHOENICIAN AND GREEK COLONIES 251
RIPARIAN VILLAGES OF THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE 365
LAKE OF THE FOUR FOREST CANTONS 374
THE ANNUAL RAINFALL OF THE WORLD 484
THE CULTURAL REGIONS OF AFRICA AND ARABIA 487
DISTRIBUTION OF RELIGIONS IN THE OLD WORLD 513
DENSITY OF POPULATION IN ITALY 559
MEAN ANNUAL ISOTHERMS AND HEAT BELTS 612
CHAPTER I
THE OPERATION OF GEOGRAPHIC FACTORS IN HISTORY
[Sidenote: Man a product of the earth's surface.]
Man is a product of the earth's surface. This means not merely that he
is a child of the earth, dust of her dust; but that the earth has
mothered him, fed him, set him tasks, directed his thoughts, confronted
him with difficulties that have strengthened his body and sharpened his
wits, given him his problems of navigation or irrigation, and at the
same time whispered hints for their solution. She has entered into his
bone and tissue, into his mind and soul. On the mountains she has given
him leg muscles of iron to climb the slope; along the coast she has left
these weak and flabby, but given him instead vigorous development of
chest and arm to handle his paddle or oar. In the river valley she
attaches him to the fertile soil, circumscribes his ideas and ambitions
by a dull round of calm, exacting duties, narrows his outlook to the
cramped horizon of his farm. Up on the wind-swept plateaus, in the
boundless stretch of the grasslands and the waterless tracts of the
desert, where he roams with his flocks from pasture to pasture and oasis
to oasis, where life knows much hardship but escapes the grind of
drudgery, where the watching of grazing herd gives him leisure for
contemplation, and the wide-ranging life a big horizon, his ideas take
on a certain gigantic simplicity; religion becomes monotheism, God
becomes one, unrivalled like the sand of the desert and the grass of the
steppe, stretching on and on without break or change. Chewing over and
over the cud of his simple belief as the one food of his unfed mind, his
faith becomes fanaticism; his big spacial ideas, born of that ceaseless
regular wandering, outgrow the land that bred them and bear their
legitimate fruit in wide imperial conquests.
Man can no more be scientifically studied apart from the ground which he
tills, or the lands over which he travels, or the seas over which he
trades, than polar bear or desert cactus can be understood apart from
its habitat. Man's relations to his environment are infinitely more
numerous and complex than those of the most highly organized plant or
animal. So complex are they that they constitute a legitimate and
necessary object of special study. The investigation which they receive
in anthropology, ethnology, sociology and history is piecemeal and
partial, limited as to the race, cultural development, epoch, country or
variety of geographic conditions taken into account. Hence all these
sciences, together with history so far as history undertakes to explain
the causes of events, fail to reach a satisfactory solution of their
problems largely because the geographic factor which enters into them
all has not been thoroughly analyzed. Man has been so noisy about the
way he has "conquered Nature," and Nature has been so silent in her
persistent influence over man, that the geographic factor in the
equation of human development has been overlooked.
[Sidenote: Stability of geographic factors in history.]
In every problem of history there are two main factors, variously stated
as heredity and environment, man and his geographic conditions, the
internal forces of race and the external forces of habitat. Now the
geographic element in the long history of human development has been
operating strongly and operating persistently. Herein lies its
importance. It is a stable force. It never sleeps. This natural
environment, this physical basis of history, is for all intents and
purposes immutable in comparison with the other factor in the
problem--shifting, plastic, progressive, retrogressive man.
[Sidenote: Persistent effect of remoteness.]
History tends to repeat itself largely owing to this steady, unchanging
geographic element. If the ancient Roman consul in far-away Britain
often assumed an independence of action and initiative unknown in the
provincial governors of Gaul, and if, centuries later, Roman Catholicism
in England maintained a similar independence towards the Holy See, both
facts have their cause in the remoteness of Britain from the center of
political or ecclesiastical power in Rome. If the independence of the
Roman consul in Britain was duplicated later by the attitude of the
Thirteen Colonies toward England, and again within the young Republic by
the headstrong self-reliance, impatient of government authority, which
characterized the early Trans-Allegheny commonwealths in their
aggressive Indian policy, and led them to make war and conclude treaties
for the cession of land like sovereign states; and if this attitude of
independence in the over-mountain men reappeared in a spirit of
political defection looking toward secession from the Union and a new
combination with their British neighbor on the Great Lakes or the
Spanish beyond the Mississippi, these are all the identical effects of
geographical remoteness made yet more remote by barriers of mountain and
sea. This is the long reach which weakens the arm of authority, no
matter what the race or country or epoch.
[Sidenote: Effect of proximity.]
As with geographical remoteness, so it is with geographical proximity.
The history of the Greek peninsula and the Greek people, because of
their location at the threshold of the Orient, has contained a
constantly recurring Asiatic element. This comes out most often as a
note of warning; like the _motif_ of Ortrud in the opera of
"Lohengrin," it mingles ominously in every chorus of Hellenic
enterprise or paean of Hellenic victory, and finally swells into a
national dirge at the Turkish conquest of the peninsula. It comes out
in the legendary history of the Argonautic Expedition and the Trojan
War; in the arrival of Phoenician Cadmus and Phrygian Pelops in
Grecian lands; in the appearance of Tyrian ships on the coast of the
Peloponnesus, where they gather the purple-yielding murex and kidnap
Greek women. It appears more conspicuously in the Asiatic sources of
Greek culture; more dramatically in the Persian Wars, in the retreat
of Xenophon's Ten Thousand, in Alexander's conquest of Asia, and
Hellenic domination of Asiatic trade through Syria to the
Mediterranean. Again in the thirteenth century the lure of the
Levantine trade led Venice and Genoa to appropriate certain islands
and promontories of Greece as commercial bases nearer to Asia. In 1396
begins the absorption of Greece into the Asiatic empire of the Turks,
the long dark eclipse of sunny Hellas, till it issues from the shadow
in 1832 with the achievement of Greek independence.
[Sidenote: Persistent effect of natural barriers.]
If the factor is not one of geographical location, but a natural
barrier, such as a mountain system or a desert, its effect is just as
persistent. The upheaved mass of the Carpathians served to divide the
westward moving tide of the Slavs into two streams, diverting one into
the maritime plain of northern Germany and Poland, the other into the
channel of the Danube Valley which guided them to the Adriatic and the
foot of the Alps. This same range checked the westward advance of the
mounted Tartar hordes. The Alps long retarded Roman expansion into
central Europe, just as they delayed and obstructed the southward
advance of the northern barbarians. Only through the partial breaches in
the wall known as passes did the Alps admit small, divided bodies of the
invaders, like the Cimbri and Teutons, who arrived, therefore, with
weakened power and at intervals, so that the Roman forces had time to
gather their strength between successive attacks, and thus prolonged the
life of the declining empire. So in the Middle Ages, the Alpine barrier
facilitated the resistance of Italy to the German emperors, trying to
enforce their claim upon this ancient seat of the Holy Roman Empire.
It was by river-worn valleys leading to passes in the ridge that
Etruscan trader, Roman legion, barbarian horde, and German army crossed
the Alpine ranges. To-day well-made highways and railroads converge upon
these valley paths and summit portals, and going is easier; but the Alps
still collect their toll, now in added tons of coal consumed by engines
and in higher freight rates, instead of the ancient imposts of physical
exhaustion paid by pack animal and heavily accoutred soldier. Formerly
these mountains barred the weak and timid; to-day they bar the poor, and
forbid transit to all merchandise of large bulk and small value which
can not pay the heavy transportation charges. Similarly, the wide
barrier of the Rockies, prior to the opening of the first overland
railroad, excluded all but strong-limbed and strong-hearted pioneers
from the fertile valleys of California and Oregon, just as it excludes
coal and iron even from the Colorado mines, and checks the free
movement of laborers to the fields and factories of California, thereby
tightening the grip of the labor unions upon Pacific coast industries.
[Sidenote: Persistent effect of nature-made highways.]
As the surface of the earth presents obstacles, so it offers channels
for the easy movement of humanity, grooves whose direction determines
the destination of aimless, unplanned migrations, and whose termini
become, therefore, regions of historical importance. Along these
nature-made highways history repeats itself. The maritime plain of
Palestine has been an established route of commerce and war from the
time of Sennacherib to Napoleon.[1] The Danube Valley has admitted to
central Europe a long list of barbarian invaders, covering the period
from Attila the Hun to the Turkish besiegers of Vienna in 1683. The
history of the Danube Valley has been one of warring throngs, of
shifting political frontiers, and unassimilated races; but as the river
is a great natural highway, every neighboring state wants to front upon
it and strives to secure it as a boundary.
The movements of peoples constantly recur to these old grooves. The
unmarked path of the voyageur's canoe, bringing out pelts from Lake
Superior to the fur market at Montreal, is followed to-day by whaleback
steamers with their cargoes of Manitoba wheat. To-day the Mohawk
depression through the northern Appalachians diverts some of Canada's
trade from the Great Lakes to the Hudson, just as in the seventeenth
century it enabled the Dutch at New Amsterdam and later the English at
Albany to tap the fur trade of Canada's frozen forests. Formerly a line
of stream and portage, it carries now the Erie Canal and New York
Central Railroad.[2] Similarly the narrow level belt of land extending
from the mouth of the Hudson to the eastern elbow of the lower Delaware,
defining the outer margin of the rough hill country of northern New
Jersey and the inner margin of the smooth coastal plain, has been from
savage days such a natural thoroughfare. Here ran the trail of the
Lenni-Lenapi Indians; a little later, the old Dutch road between New
Amsterdam and the Delaware trading-posts; yet later the King's Highway
from New York to Philadelphia. In 1838 it became the route of the
Delaware and Raritan Canal, and more recently of the Pennsylvania
Railroad between New York and Philadelphia.[3]
The early Aryans, in their gradual dispersion over northwestern India,
reached the Arabian Sea chiefly by a route running southward from the
Indus-Ganges divide, between the eastern border of the Rajputana Desert
and the western foot of the Aravalli Hills. The streams flowing down
from this range across the thirsty plains unite to form the Luni River,
which draws a dead-line to the advance of the desert. Here a smooth and
well-watered path brought the early Aryans of India to a fertile coast
along the Gulf of Cambay.[4] In the palmy days of the Mongol Empire
during the seventeenth century, and doubtless much earlier, it became an
established trade route between the sea and the rich cities of the upper
Ganges.[5] Recently it determined the line of the Rajputana Railroad
from the Gulf of Cambay to Delhi.[6] Barygaza, the ancient seaboard
terminus of this route, appears in Pliny's time as the most famous
emporium of western India, the resort of Greek and Arab merchants.[7] It
reappears later in history with its name metamorphosed to Baroche or
Broach, where in 1616 the British established a factory for trade,[8]
but is finally superseded, under Portuguese and English rule, by nearby
Surat. Thus natural conditions fix the channels in which the stream of
humanity most easily moves, determine within certain limits the
direction of its flow, the velocity and volume of its current. Every new
flood tends to fit itself approximately into the old banks, seeks first
these lines of least resistance, and only when it finds them blocked or
pre-empted does it turn to more difficult paths.
[Sidenote: Regions of historical similarity.]
Geographical environment, through the persistence of its influence,
acquires peculiar significance. Its effect is not restricted to a given
historical event or epoch, but, except when temporarily met by some
strong counteracting force, tends to make itself felt under varying
guise in all succeeding history. It is the permanent element in the
shifting fate of races. Islands show certain fundamental points of
agreement which can be distinguished in the economic, ethnic and
historical development of England, Japan, Melanesian Fiji, Polynesian
New Zealand, and pre-historic Crete. The great belt of deserts and
steppes extending across the Old World gives us a vast territory of rare
historical uniformity. From time immemorial they have borne and bred
tribes of wandering herdsmen; they have sent out the invading hordes
who, in successive waves of conquest, have overwhelmed the neighboring
river lowlands of Eurasia and Africa. They have given birth in turn to
Scythians, Indo-Aryans, Avars, Huns, Saracens, Tartars and Turks, as to
the Tuareg tribes of the Sahara, the Sudanese and Bantu folk of the
African grasslands. But whether these various peoples have been Negroes,
Hamites, Semites, Indo-Europeans or Mongolians, they have always been
pastoral nomads. The description given by Herodotus of the ancient
Scythians is applicable in its main features to the Kirghis and Kalmuck
who inhabit the Caspian plains to-day. The environment of this dry
grassland operates now to produce the same mode of life and social
organization as it did 2,400 years ago; stamps the cavalry tribes of
Cossacks as it did the mounted Huns, energizes its sons by its dry
bracing air, toughens them by its harsh conditions of life, organizes
them into a mobilized army, always moving with its pastoral
commissariat. Then when population presses too hard upon the meager
sources of subsistence, when a summer drought burns the pastures and
dries up the water-holes, it sends them forth on a mission of conquest,
to seek abundance in the better watered lands of their agricultural
neighbors. Again and again the productive valleys of the Hoangho, Indus,
Ganges, Tigris and Euphrates, Nile, Volga, Dnieper and Danube have been
brought into subjection by the imperious nomads of arid Asia, just as
the "hoe-people" of the Niger and upper Nile have so often been
conquered by the herdsmen of the African grasslands. Thus, regardless of
race or epoch--Hyksos or Kaffir--history tends to repeat itself in these
rainless tracts, and involves the better watered districts along their
borders when the vast tribal movements extend into these peripheral
lands.
[Illustration: DENSITY OF POPULATION IN EASTERN HEMISPHERE]
[Illustration: DENSITY OF POPULATION IN WESTERN HEMISPHERE]
[Sidenote: Climatic influences.]
Climatic influences are persistent, often obdurate in their control.
Arid regions permit agriculture and sedentary life only through
irrigation. The economic prosperity of Egypt to-day depends as
completely upon the distribution of the Nile waters as in the days of
the Pharaohs. The mantle of the ancient Egyptian priest has fallen upon
the modern British engineer. Arctic explorers have succeeded only by
imitating the life of the Eskimos, adopting their clothes, food, fuel,
dwellings, and mode of travel. Intense cold has checked both native and
Russian development over that major portion of Siberia lying north of
the mean annual isotherm of degree C. (32 degrees F.); and it has had a
like effect in the corresponding part of Canada. (Compare maps pages 8
and 9.) It allows these sub-arctic lands scant resources and a
population of less than two to the square mile. Even with the intrusion
of white colonial peoples, it perpetuates the savage economy of the
native hunting tribes, and makes the fur trader their modern exploiter,
whether he be the Cossack tribute-gatherer of the lower Lena River, or
the factor of the Hudson Bay Company. The assimilation tends to be
ethnic as well as economic, because the severity of the climate excludes
the white woman. The debilitating effects of heat and humidity, aided by
tropical diseases, soon reduce intruding peoples to the dead level of
economic inefficiency characteristic of the native races. These, as the
fittest, survive and tend to absorb the new-comers, pointing to
hybridization as the simplest solution of the problem of tropical
colonization.
[Sidenote: The relation of geography to history.]
The more the comparative method is applied to the study of
history--and this includes a comparison not only of different
countries, but also of successive epochs in the same country--the more
apparent becomes the influence of the soil in which humanity is
rooted, the more permanent and necessary is that influence seen to be.
Geography's claim to make scientific investigation of the physical
conditions of historical events is then vindicated. "Which was there
first, geography or history?" asks Kant. And then comes his answer:
"Geography lies at the basis of history." The two are inseparable.
History takes for its field of investigation human events in various
periods of time; anthropo-geography studies existence in various
regions of terrestrial space. But all historical development takes
place on the earth's surface, and therefore is more or less molded by
its geographic setting. Geography, to reach accurate conclusions, must
compare the operation of its factors in different historical periods
and at different stages of cultural development. It therefore regards
history in no small part as a succession of geographical factors
embodied in events. Back of Massachusetts' passionate abolition
movement, it sees the granite soil and boulder-strewn fields of New
England; back of the South's long fight for the maintenance of
slavery, it sees the rich plantations of tidewater Virginia and the
teeming fertility of the Mississippi bottom lands. This is the
significance of Herder's saying that "history is geography set into
motion." What is to-day a fact of geography becomes to-morrow a factor
of history. The two sciences cannot be held apart without doing
violence to both, without dismembering what is a natural, vital whole.
All historical problems ought to be studied geographically and all
geographic problems must be studied historically. Every map has its
date. Those in the Statistical Atlas of the United States showing the
distribution of population from 1790 to 1890 embody a mass of history
as well as of geography. A map of France or the Russian Empire has a
long historical perspective; and on the other hand, without that map
no change of ethnic or political boundary, no modification in routes
of communication, no system of frontier defences or of colonization,
no scheme of territorial aggrandizement can be understood.
[Sidenote: Multiplicity of geographic factors.]
The study of physical environment as a factor in history was
unfortunately brought into disrepute by extravagant and ill-founded
generalization, before it became the object of investigation according
to modern scientific methods. And even to-day principles advanced in the
name of anthropo-geography are often superficial, inaccurate, based upon
a body of data too limited as to space and time, or couched in terms of
unqualified statement which exposes them to criticism or refutation.
Investigators in this field, moreover, are prone to get a squint in
their eye that makes them see one geographic factor to the exclusion of
the rest; whereas it belongs to the very nature of physical environment
to combine a whole group of influences, working all at the same time
under the law of the resolution of forces. In this plexus of influences,
some operate in one direction and some in another; now one loses its
beneficent effect like a medicine long used or a garment outgrown;
another waxes in power, reinforced by a new geographic factor which has
been released from dormancy by the expansion of the known world, or the
progress of invention and of human development.
[Sidenote: Evolution of geographic relations.]
These complex geographic influences cannot be analyzed and their
strength estimated except from the standpoint of evolution. That is one
reason these half-baked geographic principles rest heavy on our mental
digestion. They have been formulated without reference to the
all-important fact that the geographical relations of man, like his
social and political organization, are subject to the law of
development. Just as the embryo state found in the primitive Saxon tribe
has passed through many phases in attaining the political character of
the present British Empire, so every stage in this maturing growth has
been accompanied or even preceded by a steady evolution of the
geographic relations of the English people.
Owing to the evolution of geographic relations, the physical environment
favorable to one stage of development may be adverse to another, and
_vice versa_. For instance, a small, isolated and protected habitat,
like that of Egypt, Phoenicia, Crete and Greece, encourages the birth
and precocious growth of civilization; but later it may cramp progress,
and lend the stamp of arrested development to a people who were once the
model for all their little world. Open and wind-swept Russia, lacking
these small, warm nurseries where Nature could cuddle her children, has
bred upon its boundless plains a massive, untutored, homogeneous folk,
fed upon the crumbs of culture that have fallen from the richer tables
of Europe. But that item of area is a variable quantity in the equation.
It changes its character at a higher stage of cultural development.
Consequently, when the Muscovite people, instructed by the example of
western Europe, shall have grown up intellectually, economically and
politically to their big territory, its area will become a great
national asset. Russia will come into its own, heir to a long-withheld
inheritance. Many of its previous geographic disadvantages will vanish,
like the diseases of childhood, while its massive size will dwarf many
previous advantages of its European neighbors.
[Sidenote: Evolution of world relations.]
This evolution of geographic relations applies not only to the local
environment, but also to the wider world relations of a people. Greeks
and Syrians, English and Japanese, take a different rank among the
nations of the earth to-day from that held by their ancestors 2,000 years
ago, simply because the world relations of civilized peoples have been
steadily expanding since those far-back days of Tyrian and Athenian
supremacy. The period of maritime discoveries in the fifteenth and
sixteenth centuries shifted the foci of the world relations of European
states from enclosed seas to the rim of the Atlantic. Venice and Genoa
gave way to Cadiz and Lagos, just as sixteen centuries before Corinth
and Athens had yielded their ascendency to Rome and Ostia. The keen but
circumscribed trade of the Baltic, which gave wealth and historical
preeminence to Lübeck and the other Hanse Towns of northern Germany from
the twelfth to the seventeenth century, lost its relative importance
when the Atlantic became the maritime field of history. Maritime
leadership passed westward from Lübeck and Stralsund to Amsterdam and
Bristol, as the historical horizon widened. England, prior to this
sudden dislocation, lay on the outskirts of civilized Europe, a terminal
land, not a focus. The peripheral location which retarded her early
development became a source of power when she accumulated sufficient
density of population for colonizing enterprises, and when maritime
discovery opened a way to trans-oceanic lands.[9]
Meanwhile, local geographic advantages in the old basins remain the
same, although they are dwarfed by the development of relatively greater
advantages elsewhere. The broken coastline, limited area and favorable
position of Greece make its people to-day a nation of seamen, and enable
them to absorb by their considerable merchant fleet a great part of the
trade of the eastern Mediterranean,[10] just as they did in the days of
Pericles; but that youthful Aegean world which once constituted so large
a part of the _oikoumene_, has shrunken to a modest province, and its
highways to local paths. The coast cities of northern Germany still
maintain a large commerce in the Baltic, but no longer hold the
pre-eminence of the old Hanse Towns. The glory of the Venetian Adriatic
is gone; but that the sea has still a local significance is proven by
the vast sums spent by Austria and Hungary on their hand-made harbors of
Trieste and Fiume.[11] The analytical geographer, therefore, while
studying a given combination of geographic forces, must be prepared for
a momentous readjustment and a new interplay after any marked turning
point in the economic, cultural, or world relations of a people.
[Sidenote: Interplay of geographic factors.]
Skepticism as to the effect of geographic conditions upon human
development is apparently justifiable, owing to the multiplicity of the
underlying causes and the difficulty of distinguishing between stronger
and weaker factors on the one hand, as between permanent and temporary
effects on the other. We see the result, but find it difficult to state
the equation producing this result. But the important thing is to avoid
seizing upon one or two conspicuous geographic elements in the problem
and ignoring the rest. The physical environment of a people consists of
all the natural conditions to which they have been subjected, not merely
a part. Geography admits no single blanket theory. The slow historical
development of the Russian folk has been due to many geographic
causes--to excess of cold and deficiency of rain, an outskirt location
on the Asiatic border of Europe exposed to the attacks of nomadic
hordes, a meager and, for the most part, ice-bound coast which was
slowly acquired, an undiversified surface, a lack of segregated regions
where an infant civilization might be cradled, and a vast area of
unfenced plains wherein the national energies spread out thin and
dissipated themselves. The better Baltic and Black Sea coasts, the
fertility of its Ukraine soil, and location next to wide-awake Germany
along the western frontier have helped to accelerate progress, but the
slow-moving body carried too heavy a drag.
[Sidenote: Land and sea in co-operation.]
The law of the resolutions of forces applies in geography as in the
movement of planets. Failure to recognize this fact often enables
superficial critics of anthropo-geography to make a brave show of
argument. The analysis of these interacting forces and of their various
combinations requires careful investigation. Let us consider the
interplay of the forces of land and sea apparent in every country with
a maritime location. In some cases a small, infertile, niggardly country
conspires with a beckoning sea to drive its sons out upon the deep; in
others a wide territory with a generous soil keeps its well-fed children
at home and silences the call of the sea. In ancient Phoenicia and
Greece, in Norway, Finland, New England, in savage Chile and Tierra del
Fuego, and the Indian coast district of British Columbia and southern
Alaska, a long, broken shoreline, numerous harbors, outlying islands,
abundant timber for the construction of ships, difficult communication
by land, all tempted the inhabitants to a seafaring life. While the sea
drew, the land drove in the same direction. There a hilly or mountainous
interior putting obstacles in the way of landward expansion, sterile
slopes, a paucity of level, arable land, an excessive or deficient
rainfall withholding from agriculture the reward of tillage--some or all
of these factors combined to compel the inhabitants to seek on the sea
the livelihood denied by the land. Here both forces worked in the same
direction.
In England conditions were much the same, and from the sixteenth century
produced there a predominant maritime development which was due not
solely to a long indented coastline and an exceptional location for
participating in European and American trade. Its limited island area,
its large extent of rugged hills and chalky soil fit only for pasturage,
and the lack of a really generous natural endowment,[12] made it slow to
answer the demands of a growing population, till the industrial
development of the nineteenth century exploited its mineral wealth. So
the English turned to the sea--to fish, to trade, to colonize. Holland's
conditions made for the same development. She united advantages of
coastline and position with a small infertile territory, consisting
chiefly of water-soaked grazing lands. When at the zenith of her
maritime development, a native authority estimated that the soil of
Holland could not support more than one-eighth of her inhabitants. The
meager products of the land had to be eked out by the harvest of the
sea. Fish assumed an important place in the diet of the Dutch, and when
a process of curing it was discovered, laid the foundation of Holland's
export trade. A geographical location central to the Baltic and North
Sea countries, and accessible to France and Portugal, combined with a
position at the mouth of the great German rivers made it absorb the
carrying trade of northern Europe.[13] Land and sea coöperated in its
maritime development.
[Sidenote: Land and sea opposed.]
Often the forces of land and sea are directly opposed. If a country's
geographic conditions are favorable to agriculture and offer room for
growth of population, the land forces prevail, because man is primarily
a terrestrial animal. Such a country illustrates what Chisholm, with
Attic nicety of speech, calls "the influence of bread-power on
history,"[14] as opposed to Mahan's sea-power. France, like England, had
a long coastline, abundant harbors, and an excellent location for
maritime supremacy and colonial expansion; but her larger area and
greater amount of fertile soil put off the hour of a redundant
population such as England suffered from even in Henry VIII's time.
Moreover, in consequence of steady continental expansion from the
twelfth to the eighteenth century and a political unification which made
its area more effective for the support of the people, the French of
Richelieu's time, except those from certain districts, took to the sea,
not by national impulse as did the English and Dutch, but rather under
the spur of government initiative. They therefore achieved far less in
maritime trade and colonization.[15] In ancient Palestine, a long
stretch of coast, poorly equipped with harbors but accessible to the
rich Mediterranean trade, failed to offset the attraction of the gardens
and orchards of the Jezreel Valley and the pastures of the Judean hills,
or to overcome the land-born predilections and aptitudes of the
desert-bred Jews. Similarly, the river-fringed peninsulas of Virginia
and Maryland, opening wide their doors to the incoming sea, were
powerless, nevertheless, to draw the settlers away from the riotous
productiveness of the wide tidewater plains. Here again the geographic
force of the land outweighed that of the sea and became the dominant
factor in directing the activities of the inhabitants.
The two antagonistic geographic forces may be both of the land, one born
of a country's topography, the other of its location. Switzerland's
history has for centuries shown the conflict of two political policies,
one a policy of cantonal and communal independence, which has sprung
from the division of that mountainous country into segregated districts,
and the other one of political centralization, dictated by the necessity
for coöperation to meet the dangers of Switzerland's central location
mid a circle of larger and stronger neighbors. Local geographic
conditions within the Swiss territory fixed the national ideal as a
league of "sovereign cantons," to use the term of their constitution,
enjoying a maximum of individual rights and privileges, and tolerating a
minimum of interference from the central authority. Here was physical
dismemberment coupled with mutual political repulsion. But a location at
the meeting place of French, German, Austrian and Italian frontiers laid
upon them the distasteful necessity of union within to withstand
aggressions crowding upon them from without. Hence the growth of the
Swiss constitution since 1798 has meant a fight of the Confederation
against the canton in behalf of general rights, expanding the functions
of the central government, contracting those of canton and commune.[16]
[Sidenote: Local and remote geographic factors.]
Every country forms an independent whole, and as such finds its national
history influenced by its local climate, soil, relief, its location
whether inland or maritime, its river highways, and its boundaries of
mountain, sea, or desert. But it is also a link in a great chain of
lands, and therefore may feel a shock or vibration imparted at the
remotest end. The gradual desiccation of western Asia which took a fresh
start about 2,000 years ago caused that great exodus and displacement of
peoples known as the _Völkerwanderung_, and thus contributed to the
downfall of Rome; it was one factor in the Saxon conquest of Britain and
the final peopling of central Europe. The impact of the Turkish hordes
hurling themselves against the defenses of Constantinople in 1453 was
felt only forty years afterward by the far-off shores of savage America.
Earlier still it reached England as the revival of learning, and it gave
Portugal a shock which started its navigators towards the Cape of Good
Hope in their search for a sea route to India. The history of South
Africa is intimately connected with the Isthmus of Suez. It owes its
Portuguese, Dutch, and English populations to that barrier on the
Mediterranean pathway to the Orient; its importance as a way station on
the outside route to India fluctuates with every crisis in the history
of Suez.
[Sidenote: Direct and indirect effects of environment.]
The geographic factors in history appear now as conspicuous direct
effects of environment, such as the forest warfare of the American
Indian or the irrigation works of the Pueblo tribes, now as a group of
indirect effects, operating through the economic, social and political
activities of a people. These remoter secondary results are often of
supreme importance; they are the ones which give the final stamp to the
national temperament and character, and yet in them the causal
connection between environment and development is far from obvious. They
have, therefore, presented pitfalls to the precipitate theorizer. He has
either interpreted them as the direct effect of some geographic cause
from which they were wholly divorced and thus arrived at conclusions
which further investigation failed to sustain; or seeing no direct and
obvious connection, he has denied the possibility of a generalization.
Montesquieu ascribes the immutability of religion, manners, custom and
laws in India and other Oriental countries to their warm climate.[17]
Buckle attributes a highly wrought imagination and gross superstition to
all people, like those of India, living in the presence of great
mountains and vast plains, knowing Nature only in its overpowering
aspects, which excite the fancy and paralyze reason. He finds, on the
other hand, an early predominance of reason in the inhabitants of a
country like ancient Greece, where natural features are on a small
scale, more comprehensible, nearer the measure of man himself.[18] The
scientific geographer, grown suspicious of the omnipotence of climate
and cautious of predicating immediate psychological effects which are
easy to assert but difficult to prove, approaches the problem more
indirectly and reaches a different solution. He finds that geographic
conditions have condemned India to isolation. On the land side, a great
sweep of high mountains has restricted intercourse with the interior; on
the sea side, the deltaic swamps of the Indus and Ganges Rivers and an
unbroken shoreline, backed by mountains on the west of the peninsula and
by coastal marshes and lagoons on the east, have combined to reduce its
accessibility from the ocean. The effect of such isolation is ignorance,
superstition, and the early crystallization of thought and custom.
Ignorance involves the lack of material for comparison, hence a
restriction of the higher reasoning processes, and an unscientific
attitude of mind which gives imagination free play. In contrast, the
accessibility of Greece and its focal location in the ancient world made
it an intellectual clearing-house for the eastern Mediterranean. The
general information gathered there afforded material for wide
comparison. It fed the brilliant reason of the Athenian philosopher and
the trained imagination which produced the masterpieces of Greek art and
literature.
[Sidenote: Indirect mental effects.]
Heinrich von Treitschke, in his recent "Politik," imitates the direct
inference of Buckle when he ascribes the absence of artistic and poetic
development in Switzerland and the Alpine lands to the overwhelming
aspect of nature there, its majestic sublimity which paralyzes the
mind.[19] He reinforces his position by the fact that, by contrast, the
lower mountains and hill country of Swabia, Franconia and Thuringia,
where nature is gentler, stimulating, appealing, and not overpowering,
have produced many poets and artists. The facts are incontestable. They
reappear in France in the geographical distribution of the awards made
by the Paris _Salon_ of 1896. Judged by these awards, the rough
highlands of Savoy, Alpine Provence, the massive eastern Pyrenees, and
the Auvergne Plateau, together with the barren peninsula of Brittany,
are singularly lacking in artistic instinct, while art nourishes in all
the river lowlands of France. Moreover, French men of letters, by the
distribution of their birthplaces, are essentially products of fluvial
valleys and plains, rarely of upland and mountain.[20]
This contrast has been ascribed to a fundamental ethnic distinction
between the Teutonic population of the lowlands and the Alpine or Celtic
stock which survives in the isolation of highland and peninsula, thus
making talent an attribute of race. But the Po Valley of northern Italy,
whose population contains a strong infusion of this supposedly
stultifying Alpine blood, and the neighboring lowlands and hill country
of Tuscany show an enormous preponderance of intellectual and artistic
power over the highlands of the peninsula.[21] Hence the same contrast
appears among different races under like geographic conditions.
Moreover, in France other social phenomena, such as suicide, divorce,
decreasing birth-rate, and radicalism in politics, show this same
startling parallelism of geographic distribution,[22] and these cannot
be attributed to the stimulating or depressing effect of natural scenery
upon the human mind.
Mountain regions discourage the budding of genius because they are areas
of isolation, confinement, remote from the great currents of men and
ideas that move along the river valleys. They are regions of much labor
and little leisure, of poverty to-day and anxiety for the morrow, of
toil-cramped hands and toil-dulled brains. In the fertile alluvial
plains are wealth, leisure, contact with many minds, large urban centers
where commodities and ideas are exchanged. The two contrasted
environments produce directly certain economic and social results,
which, in turn, become the causes of secondary intellectual and artistic
effects. The low mountains of central Germany which von Treitschke cites
as homes of poets and artists, owing to abundant and varied mineral
wealth, are the seats of active industries and dense populations,[23]
while their low reliefs present no serious obstacle to the numerous
highways across them. They, therefore, afford all conditions for
culture.
[Sidenote: Indirect effects in differentiation of colonial peoples.]
Let us take a different example. The rapid modification in physical and
mental constitution of the English transplanted to North America, South
Africa, Australia and New Zealand has been the result of several
geographic causes working through the economic and social media; but it
has been ascribed by Darwin and others to the effect of climate. The
prevailing energy and initiative of colonists have been explained by the
stimulating atmosphere of their new homes. Even Natal has not escaped
this soft impeachment. But the enterprise of colonials has cropped out,
under almost every condition of heat and cold, aridity and humidity, of
a habitat at sea-level and on high plateau. This blanket theory of
climate cannot, therefore, cover the case. Careful analysis supersedes
it by a whole group of geographic factors working directly and
indirectly. The first of these was the dividing ocean which, prior to
the introduction of cheap ocean transportation and bustling steerage
agents, made a basis of artificial selection. Then it was the man of
abundant energy who, cramped by the narrow environment of a Norwegian
farm or Irish bog, came over to America to take up a quarter-section of
prairie land or rise to the eminence of Boston police sergeant. The
Scotch immigrants in America who fought in the Civil War were nearly two
inches taller than the average in the home country.[24] But the ocean
barrier culled superior qualities of mind and character
also--independence of political and religious conviction, and the
courage of those convictions, whether found in royalist or Puritan,
Huguenot or English Catholic.
[Sidenote: Indirect effect through isolation.]
Such colonists in a remote country were necessarily few and could not be
readily reinforced from home. Their new and isolated geographical
environment favored variation. Heredity passed on the characteristics of
a small, highly selected group. The race was kept pure from intermixture
with the aborigines of the country, owing to the social and cultural
abyss which separated them, and to the steady withdrawal of the natives
before the advance of the whites. The homogeneity of island peoples
seems to indicate that individual variations are in time communicated by
heredity to a whole population under conditions of isolation; and in
this way modifications due to artificial selection and a changed
environment become widely spread.
Nor is this all. The modified type soon becomes established, because the
abundance of land at the disposal of the colonists and the consequent
better conditions of living encourage a rapid increase of population. A
second geographic factor of mere area here begins to operate. Ease in
gaining subsistence, the greater independence of the individual and the
family, emancipation from carking care, the hopeful attitude of mind
engendered by the consciousness of an almost unlimited opportunity and
capacity for expansion, the expectation of large returns upon labor,
and, finally, the profound influence of this hopefulness upon the
national character, all combined, produce a social rejuvenation of the
race. New conditions present new problems which call for prompt and
original solution, make a demand upon the ingenuity and resourcefulness
of the individual, and therefore work to the same end as his previous
removal from the paralyzing effect of custom in the old home country.
Activity is youth and sluggishness or paralysis is age. Hence the
energy, initiative, adaptability, and receptivity to new ideas--all
youthful qualities--which characterize the Anglo-Saxon American as well
as the English Africander, can be traced back to the stimulating
influences, not of a bracing or variable climate, but of the abundant
opportunities offered by a great, rich, unexploited country. Variation
under new natural conditions, when safe-guarded by isolation, tends to
produce modification of the colonial type; this is the direct effect of
a changed environment. But the new economic and social activities of a
transplanted people become the vehicle of a mass of indirect geographic
influences which contribute to the differentiation of the national
character.
[Sidenote: General importance of indirect effects.]
The tendency to overlook such links between conspicuous effects and
their remote, less evident geographic causes has been common in
geographic investigation. This direct rather than indirect approach to
the heart of the problem has led to false inferences or to the
assumption that reliable conclusions were impossible. Environment
influences the higher, mental life of a people chiefly through the
medium of their economic and social life; hence its ultimate effects
should be traced through the latter back to the underlying cause. But
rarely has this been done. Even so astute a geographer as Strabo, though
he recognizes the influence of geographic isolation in differentiating
dialects and customs in Greece,[25] ascribes some national
characteristics to the nature of the country, especially to its climate,
and the others to education and institutions. He thinks that the nature
of their respective lands had nothing to do with making the Athenians
cultured, the Spartans and Thebans ignorant; that the predilection for
natural science in Babylonia and Egypt was not a result of environment
but of the institutions and education of those countries.[26] But here
arise the questions, how far custom and education in their turn depend
upon environment; to what degree natural conditions, molding economic
and political development, may through them fundamentally affect social
customs, education, culture, and the dominant intellectual aptitudes of
a people. It is not difficult to see, back of the astronomy and
mathematics and hydraulics of Egypt, the far off sweep of the rain-laden
monsoons against the mountains of Abyssinia and the creeping of the
tawny Nile flood over that river-born oasis.
[Sidenote: Indirect political and moral effects.]
Plutarch states in his "Solon" that after the rebellion of Kylon in 612
B.C. the Athenian people were divided into as many political factions as
there were physical types of country in Attica. The mountaineers, who
were the poorest party, wanted something like a democracy; the people of
the plains, comprising the greatest number of rich families, were
clamorous for an oligarchy; the coast population of the south,
intermediate both in social position and wealth, wanted something
between the two. The same three-fold division appeared again in 564 B.C.
on the usurpation of Peisistratus.[27] Here the connection between
geographic condition and political opinion is clear enough, though the
links are agriculture and commerce. New England's opposition to the War
of 1812, culminating in the threat of secession of the Hartford
Convention, can be traced back through the active maritime trade to the
broken coastline and unproductive soil of that glaciated country.
In all democratic or representative forms of government permitting free
expression of popular opinion, history shows that division into
political parties tends to follow geographical lines of cleavage. In our
own Civil War the dividing line between North and South did not always
run east and west. The mountain area of the Southern Appalachians
supported the Union and drove a wedge of disaffection into the heart of
the South. Mountainous West Virginia was politically opposed to the
tidewater plains of old Virginia, because slave labor did not pay on the
barren "upright" farms of the Cumberland Plateau; whereas, it was
remunerative on the wide fertile plantations of the coastal lowland. The
ethics of the question were obscured where conditions of soil and
topography made the institution profitable. In the mountains, as also in
New England, a law of diminishing financial returns had for its
corollary a law of increasing moral insight. In this case, geographic
conditions worked through the medium of direct economic effects to more
important political and ethical results.
The roots of geographic influence often run far underground before
coming to the surface, to sprout into some flowering growth; and to
trace this back to its parent stem is the necessary but not easy task of
the geographer.
[Sidenote: Time element.]
The complexity of this problem does not end here. The modification of
human development by environment is a natural process; like all other
natural processes, it involves the cumulative effects of causes
operating imperceptibly but persistently through vast periods of time.
Slowly and deliberately does geography engrave the subtitles to a
people's history. Neglect of this time element in the consideration of
geographic influences accounts equally for many an exaggerated assertion
and denial of their power. A critic undertakes to disprove modification
through physical environment by showing that it has not produced
tangible results in the last fifty or five hundred years. This attitude
recalls the early geologists, whose imaginations could not conceive the
vast ages necessary in a scientific explanation of geologic phenomena.
The theory of evolution has taught us in science to think in larger
terms of time, so that we no longer raise the question whether European
colonists in Africa can turn into negroes, though we do find the recent
amazing statement that the Yankee, in his tall, gaunt figure, "the
colour of his skin, and the formation of his hair, has begun to
differentiate himself from his European kinsman and approach the type of
the aboriginal Indians."[28] Evolution tells the story of modification
by a succession of infinitesimal changes, and emphasizes the permanence
of a modification once produced long after the causes for it cease to
act. The mesas of Arizona, the earth sculpture of the Grand Canyon
remain as monuments to the erosive forces which produced them. So a
habitat leaves upon man no ephemeral impress; it affects him in one way
at a low stage of his development, and differently at a later or higher
stage, because the man himself and his relation to his environment have
been modified in the earlier period; but traces of that earlier
adaptation survive in his maturer life. Hence man's relation to his
environment must be looked at through the perspective of historical
development. It would be impossible to explain the history and national
character of the contemporary English solely by their twentieth century
response to their environment, because with insular conservatism they
carry and cherish vestiges of times when their islands represented
different geographic relations from those of to-day. Witness the
wool-sack of the lord chancellor. We cannot understand the location of
modern Athens, Rome or Berlin from the present day relations of urban
populations to their environment, because the original choice of these
sites was dictated by far different considerations from those ruling
to-day. In the history of these cities a whole succession of geographic
factors have in turn been active, each leaving its impress of which the
cities become, as it were, repositories.
[Sidenote: Effect of a previous habitat.]
The importance of this time element for a solution of
anthropo-geographic problems becomes plainer, where a certain locality
has received an entirely new population, or where a given people by
migration change their habitat. The result in either case is the same, a
new combination, new modifications superimposed on old modifications.
And it is with this sort of case that anthropo-geography most often has
to deal. So restless has mankind been, that the testimony of history and
ethnology is all against the assumption that a social group has ever
been subjected to but one type of environment during its long period of
development from a primitive to a civilized society. Therefore, if we
assert that a people is the product of the country which it inhabits at
a given time, we forget that many different countries which its forbears
occupied have left their mark on the present race in the form of
inherited aptitudes and traditional customs acquired in those remote
ancestral habitats. The Moors of Granada had passed through a wide range
of ancestral experiences; they bore the impress of Asia, Africa and
Europe, and on their expulsion from Spain carried back with them to
Morocco traces of their peninsula life.
A race or tribe develops certain characteristics in a certain region,
then moves on, leaving the old abode but not all the accretions of
custom, social organization and economic method there acquired. These
travel on with the migrant people; some are dropped, others are
preserved because of utility, sentiment or mere habit. For centuries
after the settlement of the Jews in Palestine, traces of their pastoral
life in the grasslands of Mesopotamia could be discerned in their social
and political organization, in their ritual and literature. Survivals of
their nomadic life in Asiatic steppes still persist among the Turks of
Europe, after six centuries of sedentary life in the best agricultural
land of the Balkan Peninsula. One of these appears in their choice of
meat. They eat chiefly sheep and goats, beef very rarely, and swine not
at all.[29] The first two thrive on poor pastures and travel well, so
that they are admirably adapted to nomadic life in arid lands; the last
two, far less so, but on the other hand are the regular concomitant of
agricultural life. The Turk's taste to-day, therefore, is determined by
the flocks and herds which he once pastured on the Trans-Caspian plains.
The finished terrace agriculture and methods of irrigation, which the
Saracens had learned on the mountain sides of Yemen through a schooling
of a thousand years or more, facilitated their economic conquest of
Spain. Their intelligent exploitation of the country's resources for the
support of their growing numbers in the favorable climatic conditions
which Spain offered was a light-hearted task, because of the severe
training which they had had in their Arabian home.
The origin of Roman political institutions is intimately connected with
conditions of the naturally small territory where arose the greatness of
Rome. But now, after two thousand years we see the political impress of
this narrow origin spreading to the governments of an area of Europe
immeasurably larger than the region that gave it birth. In the United
States, little New England has been the source of the strongest
influences modifying the political, religious and cultural life of half
a continent; and as far as Texas and California these influences bear
the stamp of that narrow, unproductive environment which gave to its
sons energy of character and ideals.
[Sidenote: Transplanted religions.]
Ideas especially are light baggage, and travel with migrant peoples
over many a long and rough road. They are wafted like winged seed by the
wind, and strike root in regions where they could never have originated.
Few classes of ideas bear so plainly the geographic stamp of their
origin as religious ones, yet none have spread more widely. The abstract
monotheism sprung from the bare grasslands of western Asia made slow but
final headway against the exuberant forest gods of the early Germans.
Religious ideas travel far from their seedbeds along established lines
of communication. We have the almost amusing episode of the brawny
Burgundians of the fifth century, who received the Arian form of
Christianity by way of the Danube highway from the schools of Athens and
Alexandria, valiantly supporting the niceties of Greek religious thought
against the Roman version of the faith which came up the Rhone Valley.
If the sacred literature of Judaism and Christianity take weak hold upon
the western mind, this is largely because it is written in the symbolism
of the pastoral nomad. Its figures of speech reflect life in deserts and
grasslands. For these figures the western mind has few or vague
corresponding ideas. It loses, therefore, half the import, for instance,
of the Twenty-third Psalm, that picture of the nomad shepherd guiding
his flock across parched and trackless plains, to bring them at evening,
weary, hungry, thirsty, to the fresh pastures and waving palms of some
oasis, whose green tints stand out in vivid contrast to the tawny wastes
of the encompassing sands. "He leadeth me beside the still waters," not
the noisy rushing stream of the rainy lands, but the quiet desert pool
that reflects the stars. What real significance has the tropical
radiance of the lotus flower, the sacred symbol of Buddhism, for the
Mongolian lama in the cold and arid borders of Gobi or the wind-swept
highlands of sterile Tibet? And yet these exotic ideas live on, even if
they no longer bloom in the uncongenial soil. But to explain them in
terms of their present environment would be indeed impossible.
[Sidenote: Partial response to environment]
A people may present at any given time only a partial response to their
environment also for other reasons. This may be either because their
arrival has been too recent for the new habitat to make its influence
felt; or because, even after long residence, one overpowering
geographic factor has operated to the temporary exclusion of all others.
Under these circumstances, suddenly acquired geographic advantages of a
high order or such advantages, long possessed but tardily made available
by the release of national powers from more pressing tasks, may
institute a new trend of historical development, resulting more from
stimulating geographic conditions than from the natural capacities or
aptitudes of the people themselves. Such developments, though often
brilliant, are likely to be short-lived and to end suddenly or
disastrously, because not sustained by a deep-seated national impulse
animating the whole mass of the people. They cease when the first
enthusiasm spends itself, or when outside competition is intensified, or
the material rewards decrease.
[Sidenote: The case of Spain.]
An illustration is found in the mediæval history of Spain. The
intercontinental location of the Iberian Peninsula exposed it to the
Saracen conquest and to the constant reinforcements to Islam power
furnished by the Mohammedanized Berbers of North Africa. For seven
centuries this location was the dominant geographic factor in Spain's
history. It made the expulsion of the Moors the sole object of all the
Iberian states, converted the country into an armed camp, made the
gentleman adventurer and Christian knight the national ideal. It placed
the center of political control high up on the barren plateau of
Castile, far from the centers of population and culture in the river
lowlands or along the coast. It excluded the industrial and commercial
development which was giving bone and sinew to the other European
states. The release of the national energies by the fall of Granada in
1492 and the now ingrained spirit of adventure enabled Spain and
Portugal to utilize the unparalleled advantage of their geographical
position at the junction of the Mediterranean and Atlantic highways, and
by their great maritime explorations in the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries, to become foremost among European colonial powers. But the
development was sporadic, not supported by any widespread national
movement. In a few decades the maritime preëminence of the Iberian
Peninsula began to yield to the competition of the Dutch and English,
who were, so to speak, saturated with their own maritime environment.
Then followed the rapid decay of the sea power of Spain, followed by
that of Portugal, till by 1648 even her coasting trade was in the hands
of the Dutch, and Dutch vessels were employed to maintain communication
with the West Indies.[30]
[Sidenote: Sporadic response to a new environment.]
We have a later instance of sporadic development under the stimulus of
new and favorable geographic conditions, a similar anti-climax. The
expansion of the Russians across the lowlands of Siberia was quite in
harmony with the genius of that land-bred people; but when they reached
Bering Sea, the enclosed basin, the proximity of the American continent,
the island stepping-stones between, and the lure of rich sealskins to
the fur-hunting Cossacks determined a sudden maritime expansion, for
which the Russian people were unfitted. Beginning in 1747, it swept the
coast of Alaska, located its American administrative center first on
Kadiak, then on Baranof Island, and by 1812 placed its southern outposts
on the California coast near San Francisco Bay and on the Farralone
Islands.[31] Russian convicts were employed to man the crazy boats built
of green lumber on the shores of Bering Sea, and Aleutian hunters with
their _bidarkas_ were impressed to catch the seal.[32] The movement was
productive only of countless shipwrecks, many seal skins, and an
opportunity to satisfy an old grudge against England. The territory
gained was sold to the United States in 1867. This is the one instance
in Russian history of any attempt at maritime expansion, and also of any
withdrawal from territory to which the Muscovite power had once
established its claim. This fact alone would indicate that only
excessively tempting geographic conditions led the Russians into an
economic and political venture which neither the previously developed
aptitudes of the people nor the conditions of population and historical
development on the Siberian seaboard were able to sustain.
[Sidenote: The larger conception of the environment.]
The history and culture of a people embody the effects of previous
habitats and of their final environment; but this means something more
than local geographic conditions. It involves influences emanating from
far beyond the borders. No country, no continent, no sea, mountain or
river is restricted to itself in the influence which it either exercises
or receives. The history of Austria cannot be understood merely from
Austrian ground. Austrian territory is part of the Mediterranean
hinterland, and therefore has been linked historically with Rome, Italy,
and the Adriatic. It is a part of the upper Danube Valley and therefore
shares much of its history with Bavaria and Germany, while the lower
Danube has linked it with the Black Sea, Greece, the Russian steppes,
and Asia. The Asiatic Hungarians have pushed forward their ethnic
boundary nearly to Vienna. The Austrian capital has seen the warring
Turks beneath its walls, and shapes its foreign policy with a view to
the relative strength of the Sultan and the Czar.
[Sidenote: Unity of the earth.]
The earth is an inseparable whole. Each country or sea is physically and
historically intelligible only as a portion of that whole. Currents and
wind-systems of the oceans modify the climate of the nearby continents,
and direct the first daring navigations of their peoples. The
alternating monsoons of the Indian Ocean guided Arab merchantmen from
ancient times back and forth between the Red Sea and the Malabar coast
of India.[33] The Equatorial Current and the northeast trade-wind
carried the timid ships of Columbus across the Atlantic to America. The
Gulf Stream and the prevailing westerlies later gave English vessels the
advantage on the return voyage. Europe is a part of the Atlantic coast.
This is a fact so significant that the North Atlantic has become a
European sea. The United States also is a part of the Atlantic coast:
this is the dominant fact of American history. China forms a section of
the Pacific rim. This is the fact back of the geographic distribution of
Chinese emigration to Annam, Tonkin, Siam, Malacca, the Philippines,
East Indies, Borneo, Australia, Hawaiian Islands, the Pacific Coast
States, British Columbia, the Alaskan coast southward from Bristol Bay
in Bering Sea, Ecuador and Peru.
As the earth is one, so is humanity. Its unity of species points to some
degree of communication through a long prehistoric past. Universal
history is not entitled to the name unless it embraces all parts of the
earth and all peoples, whether savage or civilized. To fill the gaps in
the written record it must turn to ethnology and geography, which by
tracing the distribution and movements of primitive peoples can often
reconstruct the most important features of their history.
Anthropo-geographic problems are never simple. They must all be viewed
in the long perspective of evolution and the historical past. They
require allowance for the dominance of different geographic factors at
different periods, and for a possible range of geographic influences
wide as the earth itself. In the investigator they call for pains-taking
analysis and, above all, an open mind.
NOTES TO CHAPTER I
[1] George Adam Smith, Historical Geography of the Holy Land, pp.
149-157. New York, 1897.
[2] A.P. Brigham, Geographic Influences in American History, Chap. I.
Boston, 1903.
[3] R.H. Whitbeck, Geographic Influences in the Development of New
Jersey, _Journal of Geography_, Vol. V, No. 6. January, 1908.
[4] Hans Helmolt, History of the World, Vol. II, p. 372. London and New
York, 1902-1906.
[5] Jean Baptiste Tavernier, Travels in India, 1641-1667. Vol. I, chap.
V and map. London, 1889.
[6] Sir Thomas Holdich, India, p. 305. London, 1905.
[7] Bunbury, History of Ancient Geography, Vol. II, pp. 464-465, 469.
London, 1883.
[8] _Imperial Gazetteer for India_, Vol. III, p. 109. London, 1885.
[9] G.G. Chisholm, The Relativity of Geographic Advantages, _Scottish
Geog. Mag_., Vol. XIII, No. 9, Sept. 1897.
[10] Hugh Robert Mill, International Geography, p. 347. New York, 1902.
[11] Joseph Partsch, Central Europe, pp. 228-230. London, 1903.
[12] H.J. Mackinder, Britain and the British Seas, pp. 317-323. London,
1904.
[13] Captain A.T. Mahan, Influence of Sea Power upon History, pp. 36-38.
Boston, 1902.
[14] G.G. Chisholm, Economic Geography, _Scottish Geog. Mag_., March,
1908.
[15] Captain A.T. Mahan, Influence of Sea Power upon History, pp. 37-38.
Boston, 1902.
[16] Boyd Winchester, The Swiss Republic, pp. 123, 124, 145-147.
Philadelphia, 1891.
[17] Montesquieu, Spirit of the Laws, Book XIV, chap. IV.
[18] Henry Buckle, History of Civilization in England, Vol. I, pp.
86-106.
[19] Heinrich von Treitschke, _Politik_, Vol. I, p. 225. Leipzig, 1897.
This whole chapter on _Land und Leute_ is suggestive.
[20] W.Z. Ripley, Races of Europe, pp. 524-525. New York, 1899.
[21] _Ibid._, 526.
[22] _Ibid._, 517-520, 533-536.
[23] Joseph Partsch, Central Europe, pp. 256-257, 268-271. London, 1903.
[24] W.Z. Ripley, Races of Europe, p. 89. New York, 1899.
[25] Strabo, Book VII, chap. I, 2.
[26] Strabo, Book II, chap. III, 7.
[27] Plutarch, Solon, pp. 13, 29, 154.
[28] Hans Helmolt, History of the World, Vol. II, pp. 244-245. New York,
1902-1906.
[29] Roscher, _National-oekonomik des Ackerbaues_, p. 33, note 3.
Stuttgart, 1888.
[30] Captain A.T. Mahan, Influence of Sea Power upon History, pp. 41-42,
50-53. Boston, 1902.
[31] H. Bancroft, History of California, Vol. I, pp. 298, 628-635. San
Francisco.
[32] Agnes Laut, Vikings of the Pacific, pp. 64-82. New York, 1905.
[33] Bunbury, History of Ancient Geography, Vol. II, pp. 351, 470-471.
London, 1883.
CHAPTER II
CLASSES OF GEOGRAPHIC INFLUENCES
Into almost every anthropo-geographical problem the element of
environment enters in different phases, with different modes of
operation and varying degrees of importance. Since the causal conception
of geography demands a detailed analysis of all the relations between
environment and human development, it is advisable to distinguish the
various classes of geographic influences.
[Sidenote: Physical effects.]
Four fundamental classes of effects can be distinguished.
1. The first class includes direct physical effects of environment,
similar to those exerted on plants and animals by their habitat. Certain
geographic conditions, more conspicuously those of climate, apply
certain stimuli to which man, like the lower animals, responds by an
adaption of his organism to his environment. Many physiological
peculiarities of man are due to physical effects of environment, which
doubtless operated very strongly in the earliest stages of human
development, and in those shadowy ages contributed to the
differentiation of races. The unity of the human species is as clearly
established as the diversity of races and peoples, whose divergences
must be interpreted chiefly as modifications in response to various
habitats in long periods of time.
[Sidenote: Variation and natural conditions.]
Such modifications have probably been numerous in the persistent and
unending movements, shiftings, and migrations which have made up the
long prehistoric history of man. If the origin of species is found in
variability and inheritance, variation is undoubtedly influenced by a
change of natural conditions. To quote Darwin, "In one sense the
conditions of life may be said, not only to cause variability, either
directly or indirectly, but likewise to include natural selection, for
the conditions determine whether this or that variety shall survive."[34]
The variability of man does not mean that every external influence
leaves its mark upon him, but that man as an organism, by the
preservation of beneficent variations and the elimination of deleterious
ones, is gradually adapted to his environment, so that he can utilize
most completely that which it contributes to his needs. This
self-maintenance under outward influences is an essential part of the
conception of life which Herbert Spencer defines as the correspondence
between internal conditions and external circumstances, or August Comte
as the harmony between the living being and the surrounding medium or
_milieu_.
According to Virchow, the distinction of races rests upon hereditary
variations, but heredity itself cannot become active till the
characteristic or _Zustand_ is produced which is to be handed down.[35]
But environment determines what variation shall become stable enough to
be passed on by heredity. For instance, we can hardly err in attributing
the great lung capacity, massive chests, and abnormally large torsos of
the Quichua and Aymara Indians inhabiting the high Andean plateaus to
the rarified air found at an altitude of 10,000 or 15,000 feet above sea
level. Whether these have been acquired by centuries of extreme lung
expansion, or represent the survival of a chance variation of undoubted
advantage, they are a product of the environment. They are a serious
handicap when the Aymara Indian descends to the plains, where he either
dies off or leaves descendants with diminishing chests.[36] [See map page
101.]
[Sidenote: Stature and environment]
Darwin holds that many slight changes in animals and plants, such as
size, color, thickness of skin and hair, have been produced through food
supply and climate from the external conditions under which the forms
lived.[37] Paul Ehrenreich, while regarding the chief race distinctions
as permanent forms, not to be explained by external conditions,
nevertheless concedes the slight and slow variation of the sub-race
under changing conditions of food and climate as beyond doubt.[38]
Stature is partly a matter of feeding and hence of geographic condition.
In mountain regions, where the food resources are scant, the varieties
of wild animals are characterized by smaller size in general than are
corresponding species in the lowlands. It is a noticeable fact that
dwarfed horses or ponies have originated in islands, in Iceland, the
Shetlands, Corsica and Sardinia. This is due either to scanty and
unvaried food or to excessive inbreeding, or probably to both. The
horses introduced into the Falkland Islands in 1764 have deteriorated so
in size and strength in a few generations that they are in a fair way to
develop a Falkland variety of pony.[39] On the other hand, Mr. Homer
Davenport states that the pure-bred Arabian horses raised on his New
Jersey stock farm are in the third generation a hand higher than their
grandsires imported from Arabia, and of more angular build. The result
is due to more abundant and nutritious food and the elimination of long
desert journeys.
The low stature of the natives prevailing in certain "misery spots" of
Europe, as in the Auvergne Plateau of southern France, is due in part to
race, in part to a disastrous artificial selection by the emigration of
the taller and more robust individuals, but in considerable part to the
harsh climate and starvation food-yield of that sterile soil; for the
children of the region, if removed to the more fertile valleys of the
Loire and Garonne, grow to average stature.[40] The effect of a scant and
uncertain food supply is especially clear in savages, who have erected
fewer buffers between themselves and the pressure of environment. The
Bushmen of the Kalahari Desert are shorter than their Hottentot kindred
who pasture their flocks and herds in the neighboring grasslands.[41]
Samoyedes, Lapps, and other hyperborean races of Eurasia are shorter
than their more southern neighbors, the physical record of an immemorial
struggle against cold and hunger. The stunted forms and wretched aspect
of the Snake Indians inhabiting the Rocky Mountain deserts distinguished
these clans from the tall buffalo-hunting tribes of the plains.[42] Any
feature of geographic environment tending to affect directly the
physical vigor and strength of a people cannot fail to prove a potent
factor in their history.
[Sidenote: Physical effects of dominant activities.]
Oftentimes environment modifies the physique of a people indirectly by
imposing upon them certain predominant activities, which may develop one
part of the body almost to the point of deformity. This is the effect of
increased use or disuse which Darwin discusses. He attributes the thin
legs and thick arms of the Payaguas Indians living along the Paraguay
River to generations of lives spent in canoes, with the lower
extremities motionless and the arm and chest muscles in constant
exercise.[43] Livingstone found these same characteristics of broad
chests and shoulders with ill-developed legs among the Barotse of the
upper Zambesi;[44] and they have been observed in pronounced form,
coupled with distinctly impaired powers of locomotion, among the
Tlingit, Tsimshean, and Haida Indians of the southern Alaskan and
British Columbia coast, where the geographic conditions of a mountainous
and almost strandless shore interdicted agriculture and necessitated
sea-faring activities.[45] An identical environment has produced a like
physical effect upon the canoemen of Tierra del Fuego[46] and the
Aleutian Islanders, who often sit in their boats twenty hours at a
time.[47] These special adaptations are temporary in their nature and
tend to disappear with change of occupation, as, for instance, among the
Tlingit Indians, who develop improved leg muscles when employed as
laborers in the salmon canneries of British Columbia.
[Sidenote: Effects of climate.]
Both the direct and indirect physical effects of environment thus far
instanced are obvious in themselves and easily explained. Far different
is it with the majority of physical effects, especially those of
climate, whose mode of operation is much more obscure than was once
supposed. The modern geographer does not indulge in the naive hypothesis
of the last century, which assumed a prompt and direct effect of
environment upon the form and features of man. Carl Ritter regarded the
small, slit eyes and swollen lids of the Turkoman as "an obvious effect
of the desert upon the organism." Stanhope Smith ascribed the high
shoulders and short neck of the Tartars of Mongolia to their habit of
raising their shoulders to protect the neck against the cold; their
small, squinting eyes, overhanging brows, broad faces and high cheek
bones, to the effect of the bitter, driving winds and the glare of the
snow, till, he says, "every feature by the action of the cold is harsh
and distorted."[48] These profound influences of a severe climate upon
physiognomy he finds also among the Lapps, northern Mongolians,
Samoyedes and Eskimo.
[Sidenote: Acclimatization]
Most of these problems are only secondarily grist for the geographer's
mill. For instance, when the Aryans descended to the enervating lowlands
of tropical India, and in that debilitating climate lost the qualities
which first gave them supremacy, the change which they underwent was
primarily a physiological one. It can be scientifically described and
explained therefore only by physiologists and physico-chemists; and upon
their investigations the geographer must wait before he approaches the
problem from the standpoint of geographical distribution. Into this
sub-class of physical effects come all questions of acclimatization.[49]
These are important to the anthropo-geographer, just as they are to
colonial governments like England or France, because they affect the
power of national or racial expansion, and fix the historical fate of
tropical lands. The present populations of the earth represent physical
adaptation to their environments. The intense heat and humidity of most
tropical lands prevent any permanent occupation by a native-born
population of pure whites. The catarrhal zone north of the fortieth
parallel in America soon exterminates the negroes.[50]
The Indians of South America, though all fundamentally of the same
ethnic stock, are variously acclimated to the warm, damp, forested
plains of the Amazon; to the hot, dry, treeless coasts of Peru; and to
the cold, arid heights of the Andes. The habitat that bred them tends to
hold them, by restricting the range of climate which they can endure. In
the zone of the Andean slope lying between 4,000 and 6,000 feet of
altitude, which produces the best flavored coffee and which must be
cultivated, the imported Indians from the high plateaus and from the low
Amazon plains alike sicken and die after a short time; so that they take
employment on these coffee plantations for only three or five months,
and then return to their own homes. Labor becomes nomadic on these
slopes, and in the intervals these farm lands of intensive agriculture
show the anomaly of a sparse population only of resident managers.[51]
Similarly in the high, dry Himalayan valley of the upper Indus, over
10,000 feet above sea level, the natives of Ladak are restricted to a
habitat that yields them little margin of food for natural growth of
population but forbids them to emigrate in search of more,--applies at
the same time the lash to drive and the leash to hold, for these
highlanders soon die when they reach the plains.[52] Here are two
antagonistic geographic influences at work from the same environment,
one physical and the other social-economic. The Ladaki have reached an
interesting resolution of these two forces by the institution of
polyandry, which keeps population practically stationary.
[Sidenote: Pigmentation and climate.]
The relation of pigmentation to climate has long interested geographers
as a question of environment; but their speculations on the subject have
been barren, because the preliminary investigations of the physiologist,
physicist and chemist are still incomplete. The general fact of
increasing nigrescence from temperate towards equatorial regions is
conspicuous enough, despite some irregularity of the shading.[53] This
fact points strongly to some direct relation between climate and
pigmentation, but gives no hint how the pigmental processes are
affected. The physiologist finds that in the case of the negro, the dark
skin is associated with a dense cuticle, diminished perspiration,
smaller chests and less respiratory power, a lower temperature and more
rapid pulse,[54] all which variations may enter into the problem of the
negroes coloring. The question is therefore by no means simple.
Yet it is generally conceded by scientists that pigment is a protective
device of nature. The negro's skin is comparatively insensitive to a sun
heat that blisters a white man. Livingstone found the bodies of albino
negroes in Bechuana Land always blistered on exposure to the sun,[55]
and a like effect has been observed among albino Polynesians, and
Melanesians of Fiji.[56] Paul Ehrenreich finds that the degree of
coloration depends less upon annual temperature than upon the direct
effect of the sun's rays; and that therefore a people dwelling in a
cool, dry climate, but exposed to the sun may be darker than another in
a hot, moist climate but living in a dense forest. The forest-dwelling
Botokudos of the upper San Francisco River in Brazil are fairer than the
kindred Kayapo tribe, who inhabit the open campos; and the Arawak of the
Purus River forests are lighter than their fellows in the central Matto
Grosso.[57] Sea-faring coast folk, who are constantly exposed to the
sun, especially in the Tropics, show a deeper pigmentation than their
kindred of the wooded interior.[58] The coast Moros of western Mindanao
are darker than the Subanos, their Malay brethren of the back country,
the lightness of whose color can be explained by their forest life.[59]
So the Duallas of the Kamerun coast of Africa are darker than the
Bakwiri inhabiting the forested mountains just behind them, though both
tribes belong to the Bantu group of people.[60] Here light, in
contradistinction to heat, appears the dominant factor in pigmentation.
A recent theory, advanced by von Schmaedel in 1895, rests upon the
chemical power of light. It holds that the black pigment renders the
negro skin insensitive to the luminous or actinic effects of solar
radiation, which are far more destructive to living protoplasm than the
merely calorific effects.[61]
[Sidenote: Pigmentation and altitude]
Coloration responds to other more obscure influences of environment. A
close connection between pigmentation and elevation above sea level has
been established: a high altitude operates like a high latitude.
Blondness increases appreciably on the higher slopes of the Black
Forest, Vosges Mountains, and Swiss Alps, though these isolated
highlands are the stronghold of the brunette Alpine race.[62] Livi, in
his treatise on military anthropometry, deduced a special action of
mountains upon pigmentation on observing a prevailing increase of
blondness in Italy above the four-hundred meter line, a phenomenon which
came out as strongly in Basilicata and Calabria provinces of the south
as in Piedmont and Lombardy in the north.[63] The dark Hamitic Berbers
of northern Africa have developed an unmistakable blond variant in high
valleys of the Atlas range, which in a sub-tropical region rises to the
height of 12,000 feet. Here among the Kabyles the population is fair;
grey, blue or green eyes are frequent, as is also reddish blond or
chestnut hair.[64] Waitz long ago affirmed this tendency of mountaineers
to lighter coloring from his study of primitive peoples.[65] The
modification can not be attributed wholly to climatic contrast between
mountain and plain. Some other factor, like the economic poverty of the
environment and the poor food-supply, as Livi suggests, has had a hand
in the result; but just what it is or how it has operated cannot yet be
defined.[66]
[Sidenote: Difficulty of Generalization]
Enough has been said to show that the geographer can formulate no broad
generalization as to the relation of pigmentation and climate from the
occurrence of the darkest skins in the Tropics; because this fact is
weakened by the appearance also of lighter tints in the hottest
districts, and of darker ones in arctic and temperate regions. The
geographer must investigate the questions when and where deeper shades
develop in the skins of fair races; what is the significance of dark
skins in the cold zones and of fair ones in hot zones. His answer must
be based largely on the conclusions of physiologists and physicists, and
only when these have reached a satisfactory solution of each detail of
the problem can the geographer summarize the influence of environment
upon pigmentation. The rule can therefore safely be laid down that in
all investigation of geographic influences upon the permanent physical
characteristics of races, the geographic distribution of these should be
left out of consideration till the last, since it so easily
misleads.[67] Moreover, owing to the ceaseless movements of mankind,
these effects do not remain confined to the region that produced them,
but pass on with the wandering throng in whom they have once developed,
and in whom they endure or vanish according as they prove beneficial or
deleterious in the new habitat.
[Sidenote: Psychical effects.]
II. More varied and important are the psychical effects of geographic
environment. As direct effects they are doubtless bound up in many
physiological modifications; and as influences of climate, they help
differentiate peoples and races in point of temperament. They are
reflected in man's religion and his literature, in his modes of thought
and figures of speech. Blackstone states that "in the Isle of Man, to
take away a horse or ox was no felony, but a trespass, because of the
difficulty in that little territory to conceal them or to carry them
off; but to steal a pig or a fowl, which is easily done, was a capital
misdemeanour, and the offender punished with death." The judges or
deemsters in this island of fishermen swore to execute the laws as
impartially "as the herring's backbone doth lie in the middle of the
fish."[68] The whole mythology of the Polynesians is an echo of the
encompassing ocean. The cosmography of every primitive people, their
first crude effort in the science of the universe, bears the impress of
their habitat. The Eskimo's hell is a place of darkness, storm and
intense cold;[69] the Jew's is a place of eternal fire. Buddha, born in
the steaming Himalayan piedmont, fighting the lassitude induced by heat
and humidity, pictured his heaven as Nirvana, the cessation of all
activity and individual life.
[Sidenote: Indirect effect upon language]
Intellectual effects of environment may appear in the enrichment of a
language in one direction to a rare nicety of expression; but this may
be combined with a meager vocabulary in all other directions. The
greatest cattle-breeders among the native Africans, such as the Hereros
of western Damaraland and the Dinkas of the upper White Nile, have an
amazing choice of words for all colors describing their animals--brown,
dun, red, white, dapple, and so on in every gradation of shade and hue.
The Samoyedes of northern Russia have eleven or twelve terms to
designate the various grays and browns of their reindeer, despite their
otherwise low cultural development.[70] The speech of nomads has an
abundance of expressions for cattle in every relation of life. It
includes different words for breeding, pregnancy, death, and
slaughtering in relation to every different kind of domestic animal. The
Magyars, among whom pastoral life still survives on the low plains of
the Danube and Theiss, have a generic word for herd, _csorda_, and
special terms for herds of cattle, horses, sheep, and swine.[71] While
the vocabulary of Malays and Polynesians is especially rich in nautical
terms, the Kirghis shepherd tribes who wander over the highlands of
western Asia from the Tian Shan to the Hindu Kush have four different
terms for four kinds of mountain passes. A _daban_ is a difficult, rocky
defile; an _art_ is very high and dangerous; a _bel_ is a low, easy
pass, and a _kutal_ is a broad opening between low hills.[72]
To such influences man is a passive subject, especially in the earlier
stages of his development; but there are more important influences
emanating from his environment which affect him as an active agent,
challenge his will by furnishing the motives for its exercise, give
purpose to his activities, and determine the direction which they shall
take.[73] These mold his mind and character through the media of his
economic and social life, and produce effects none the less important
because they are secondary. About these anthropo-geography can reach
surer conclusions than regarding direct psychical effects, because it
can trace their mode of operation as well as define the result. Direct
psychical effects are more matters of conjecture, whose causation is
asserted rather than proved. They seem to float in the air, detached
from the solid ground under foot, and are therefore subject matter for
the psychologist rather than the geographer.
[Sidenote: The great man in history.]
What of the great man in this geographical interpretation of history? It
seems to take no account of him, or to put him into the melting-pot with
the masses. Both are to some extent true. As a science,
anthropo-geography can deal only with large averages, and these exclude
or minimize the exceptional individual. Moreover, geographic conditions
which give this or that bent to a nation's purposes and determine its
aggregate activities have a similar effect upon the individual; but he
may institute a far-seeing policy, to whose wisdom only gradually is the
people awakened. The acts of the great man are rarely arbitrary or
artificial; he accelerates or retards the normal course of development,
but cannot turn it counter to the channels of natural conditions. As a
rule he is a product of the same forces that made his people. He moves
with them and is followed by them under a common impulse. Daniel Boone,
that picturesque figure leading the van of the westward movement over
the Allegheny Mountains, was born of his frontier environment and found
a multitude of his kind in that region of backwoods farms to follow him
into the wilderness. Thomas Jefferson of Virginia, in the Louisiana
Purchase, carried out the policy of expansion adumbrated in Governor
Spottswood's expedition with the Knights of the Golden Horseshoe over
the Blue Ridge in 1712. Jefferson's daring consummation of the purchase
without government authority showed his community of purpose with the
majority of the people. Peter the Great's location of his capital at St.
Petersburg, usually stigmatized as the act of a despot, was made in
response to natural conditions offering access to the Baltic nations,
just as certainly as ten centuries before similar conditions and
identical advantages led the early Russian merchants to build up a town
at nearby Novgorod, in easy water connection with the Baltic
commerce.[74]
[Sidenote: Economic and social effects.]
III. Geographic conditions influence the economic and social development
of a people by the abundance, paucity, or general character of the
natural resources, by the local ease or difficulty of securing the
necessaries of life, and by the possibility of industry and commerce
afforded by the environment. From the standpoint of production and
exchange, these influences are primarily the subject matter of economic
and commercial geography; but since they also permeate national life,
determine or modify its social structure, condemn it to the dwarfing
effects of national poverty, or open to it the cultural and political
possibilities resident in national wealth, they are legitimate material
also for anthropo-geography.
[Sidenote: Size of the social group.]
They are especially significant because they determine the size of the
social group. This must be forever small in areas of limited resources
or of limited extent, as in the little islands of the world and the yet
smaller oases. The desert of Chinese Turkestan supports, in certain
detached spots of river-born fertility, populations like the 60,000 of
Kashgar, and from this size groups all the way down to the single
families which Younghusband found living by a mere trickle of a stream
flowing down the southern slope of the Tian Shan. Small islands,
according to their size, fertility, and command of trade, may harbor a
sparse and scant population, like the five hundred souls struggling for
an ill-fed existence on the barren Westman Isles of Iceland; or a
compact, teeming, yet absolutely small social group, like that crowding
Malta or the Bermudas. Whether sparsely or compactly distributed, such
groups suffer the limitations inherent in their small size. They are
forever excluded from the historical significance attaching to the
large, continuously distributed populations of fertile continental
lands.
[Sidenote: Effect upon movements of peoples.]
IV. The next class belongs exclusively to the domain of geography,
because it embraces the influence of the features of the earth's surface
in directing the movements and ultimate distribution of mankind. It
includes the effect of natural barriers, like mountains, deserts,
swamps, and seas, in obstructing or deflecting the course of migrating
people and in giving direction to national expansion; it considers the
tendency of river valleys and treeless plains to facilitate such
movements, the power of rivers, lakes, bays and oceans either to block
the path or open a highway, according as navigation is in a primitive or
advanced stage; and finally the influence of all these natural features
in determining the territory which a people is likely to occupy, and the
boundaries which shall separate from their neighbors.
[Sidenote: River routes.]
The lines of expansion followed by the French and English in the
settlement of America and also the extent of territory covered by each
were powerfully influenced by geographic conditions. The early French
explorers entered the great east-west waterway of the St. Lawrence River
and the Great Lakes, which carried them around the northern end of the
Appalachian barrier into the heart of the continent, planted them on the
low, swampy, often navigable watershed of the Mississippi, and started
them on another river voyage of nearly two thousand miles to the Gulf of
Mexico. Here were the conditions and temptation for almost unlimited
expansion; hence French Canada reached to the head of Lake Superior, and
French Louisiana to the sources of the Missouri, To the lot of the
English fell a series of short rivers with fertile valleys, nearly
barred at their not distant sources by a wall of forested mountains, but
separated from one another by low watersheds which facilitated lateral
expansion over a narrow belt between mountains and sea. Here a region of
mild climate and fertile soil suited to agriculture, enclosed by strong
natural boundaries, made for compact settlement, in contrast to the wide
diffusion of the French. Later, when a growing population pressed
against the western barrier, mountain gates opened at Cumberland Gap and
the Mohawk Valley; the Ohio River and the Great Lakes became interior
thoroughfares, and the northwestern prairies lines of least resistance
to the western settler. Rivers played the same part in directing and
expediting this forward movement, as did the Lena and the Amoor in the
Russian advance into Siberia, the Humber and the Trent in the progress
of the Angles into the heart of Britain, the Rhone and Danube in the
march of the Romans into central Europe.
[Sidenote: Segregation and accessibility.]
The geographical environment of a people may be such as to segregate
them from others, and thereby to preserve or even intensify their
natural characteristics; or it may expose them to extraneous influences,
to an infusion of new blood and new ideas, till their peculiarities are
toned down, their distinctive features of dialect or national dress or
provincial customs eliminated, and the people as a whole approach to the
composite type of civilized humanity. A land shut off by mountains or
sea from the rest of the world tends to develop a homogeneous people,
since it limits or prevents the intrusion of foreign elements; or when
once these are introduced, it encourages their rapid assimilation by the
strongly interactive life of a confined locality. Therefore large or
remote islands are, as a rule, distinguished by the unity of their
inhabitants in point of civilization and race characteristics. Witness
Great Britain, Ireland, Japan, Iceland, as also Australia and New
Zealand at the time of their discovery. The highlands of the Southern
Appalachians, which form the "mountain backyards" of Kentucky, Tennessee
and North Carolina, are peopled by the purest English stock in the
United States, descendants of the backwoodsmen of the late eighteenth
century. Difficulty of access and lack of arable land have combined to
discourage immigration. In consequence, foreign elements, including the
elsewhere ubiquitous negro, are wanting, except along the few railroads
which in recent years have penetrated this country. Here survive an
eighteenth century English, Christmas celebrated on Twelfth Night, the
spinning wheel, and a belief in Joshua's power to arrest the course of
the sun.[75]
An easily accessible land is geographically hospitable to all
new-comers, facilitates the mingling of peoples, the exchange of
commodities and ideas. The amalgamation of races in such regions depends
upon the similarity or diversity of the ethnic elements and the duration
of the common occupation. The broad, open valley of the Danube from the
Black Sea to Vienna contains a bizarre mixture of several stocks--Turks,
Bulgarians, various families of pure Slavs, Roumanians, Hungarians, and
Germans. These elements are too diverse and their occupation of the
valley too recent for amalgamation to have advanced very far as yet. The
maritime plain and open river valleys of northern France show a complete
fusion of the native Celts with the Saxons, Franks, and Normans who have
successively drifted into the region, just as the Teutonic and scanter
Slav elements have blended in the Baltic plains from the Elbe to the
Vistula.
[Sidenote: Change of habitat.]
Here are four different classes of geographic influences, all which may
become active in modifying a people when it changes its habitat. Many of
the characteristics acquired in the old home still live on, or at best
yield slowly to the new environment. This is especially true of the
direct physical and psychical effects. But a country may work a prompt
and radical change in the social organization of an immigrant people by
the totally new conditions of economic life which it presents. These may
be either greater wealth or poverty of natural resources than the race
has previously known, new stimulants or deterrents to commerce and
intercourse, and new conditions of climate which affect the efficiency
of the workman and the general character of production. From these a
whole complex mass of secondary effects may follow.
The Aryans and Mongols, leaving their homes in the cool barren highlands
of Central Asia where nature dispensed her gifts with a miserly hand,
and coming down to the hot, low, fertile plains of the Indian rivers,
underwent several fundamental changes in the process of adaptation to
their new environment. An enervating climate did its work in slaking
their energies; but more radical still was the change wrought by the
contrast of poverty and abundance, enforced asceticism and luxury,
presented by the old and new home. The restless, tireless shepherds
became a sedentary, agricultural people; the abstemious nomads,--spare,
sinewy, strangers to indulgence--became a race of rulers, revelling in
luxury, lording it over countless subjects; finally, their numbers
increased rapidly, no longer kept down by the scant subsistence of arid
grasslands and scattered oases.
In a similar way, the Arab of the desert became transformed into the
sedentary lord of Spain. In the luxuriance of field and orchard which
his skilful methods of irrigation and tillage produced, in the growing
predominance of the intellectual over the nomadic military life, of the
complex affairs of city and mart over the simple tasks of herdsman or
cultivator, he lost the benefit of the early harsh training and
therewith his hold upon his Iberian empire. Biblical history gives us
the picture of the Sheik Abraham, accompanied by his nephew Lot, moving
up from the rainless plains of Mesopotamia with his flocks and herds
into the better watered Palestine. There his descendants in the garden
land of Canaan became an agricultural people; and the problem of Moses
and the Judges was to prevent their assimilation in religion and custom
to the settled Semitic tribes about them, and to make them preserve the
ideals born in the starry solitudes of the desert.
[Sidenote: Retrogression in new habitat.]
The change from the nomadic to the sedentary life represents an economic
advance. Sometimes removal to strongly contrasted geographic conditions
necessitates a reversion to a lower economic type of existence. The
French colonists who came to Lower Canada in the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries found themselves located in a region of intense
cold, where arable soil was inferior in quality and limited in amount,
producing no staple like the tobacco of Virginia or the wheat of
Maryland or the cotton of South Carolina or the sugar of the West
Indies, by which a young colony might secure a place in European trade.
But the snow-wrapped forests of Canada yielded an abundance of
fur-bearing animals, the fineness and thickness of whose pelts were born
of this frozen north. Into their remotest haunts at the head of Lake
Superior or of Hudson Bay, long lines of rivers and lakes opened level
water roads a thousand miles or more from the crude little colonial
capital at Quebec. And over in Europe beaver hats and fur-trimmed
garments were all the style! So the plodding farmer from Normandy and
the fisherman from Poitou, transferred to Canadian soil, were
irresistibly drawn into the adventurous life of the trapper and
fur-trader. The fur trade became the accepted basis of colonial life;
the _voyageur_ and _courier de bois_, clad in skins, paddling up
ice-rimmed streams in their birch-bark canoes, fraternizing with Indians
who were their only companions in that bleak interior, and married often
to dusky squaws, became assimilated to the savage life about them and
reverted to the lower hunter stage of civilization.[76]
[Sidenote: The Boers of South Africa]
Another pronounced instance of rapid retrogression under new unfavorable
geographic conditions is afforded by the South African Boer. The
transfer from the busy commercial cities of the Rhine mouths to the
far-away periphery of the world's trade, from the intensive agriculture
of small deltaic gardens and the scientific dairy farming of the moist
Netherlands to the semi-arid pastures of the high, treeless _veldt_,
where they were barred from contact with the vivifying sea and its
ship-borne commerce, has changed the enterprising seventeenth century
Hollander into the conservative pastoral Boer. Dutch cleanliness has
necessarily become a tradition to a people who can scarcely find water
for their cattle. The comfort and solid bourgeois elegance of the Dutch
home lost its material equipment in the Great Trek, when the long wagon
journey reduced household furniture to its lowest terms. House-wifely
habits and order vanished in the semi-nomadic life which followed.[77]
The gregarious instinct, bred by the closely-packed population of little
Holland, was transformed to a love of solitude, which in all lands
characterizes the people of a remote and sparsely inhabited frontier. It
is a common saying that the Boer cannot bear to see another man's smoke
from his _stoep_, just as the early Trans-Allegheny pioneer was always
on the move westward, because he could not bear to hear his neighbor's
watch-dog bark. Even the Boer language has deteriorated under the
effects of isolation and a lower status of civilization. The native
_Taal_ differs widely from the polished speech of Holland; it preserves
some features of the High Dutch of two centuries ago, but has lost
inflexions and borrowed words for new phenomena from the English,
Kaffirs and Hottentots; can express no abstract ideas, only the concrete
ideas of a dull, work-a-day world.[78]
The new habitat may eliminate many previously acquired characteristics
and hence transform a people, as in the case of the Boers; or it may
intensify tribal or national traits, as in the seafaring propensities of
the Angles and Saxons when transferred to Britain, and of the
seventeenth century English when transplanted to the indented coasts of
New England; or it may tolerate mere survival or the slow dissuetude of
qualities which escape any particular pressure in the new environment,
and which neither benefit nor handicap in the modified struggle for
existence.
NOTES TO CHAPTER II
[34] Darwin, Origin of Species, Chap. V, p. 166. New York, 1895.
[35] E. Virchow, _Rassenbildung und Erblichkeit_, Bastian
Festschrift, pp. 14, 43, 44. Berlin, 1896.
[36] Darwin, Descent of Man, pp. 34-35. New York, 1899.
[37] Darwin, Origin of Species, Chap. I, pp. 8-9. New York, 1895.
[38] P. Ehrenreich, _Die Urbewohner Brasiliens_, p. 30. Braunschweig,
1897.
[39] Ratzel, _Die Erde und das Leben_, Vol. I, pp. 364, 365. Leipzig and
Vienna, 1901.
[40] W.Z. Ripley, Races of Europe, pp. 79-86, 96, 100. New York, 1899.
[41] T. Waitz, Anthropology, pp. 57-58. Edited by J.F. Collingwood.
London, 1863.
[42] Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes of the United States, Vol. I, pp.
198-200, 219. Philadelphia, 1853.
[43] Darwin, Descent of Man, p. 33. New York, 1899.
[44] D. Livingstone, Missionary Travels, p. 266. New York, 1858.
[45] Alaska, _Eleventh Census Report_, pp. 54, 56. Washington, 1893, and
Albert P. Niblack, The Coast Indians of Southern Alaska and Northern
British Columbia, p. 237. Washington, 1888.
[46] Fitz-Roy, Voyage of the Beagle, Vol. II, pp. 130-132, 137, 138.
London, 1839.
[47] H. Bancroft, Native Races, Vol. I, pp. 88-89. San Francisco, 1886.
[48] S. Stanhope Smith, Essay on the Causes of the Variety of Complexion
and Figure in the Human Species, pp. 103-110. New Brunswick and New
York, 1810.
[49] For full discussion see A.R. Wallace's article on acclimatization
in Encyclopedia Britanica, and W.Z. Ripley, Races of Europe. Chap. XXI.
New York, 1899.
[50] D.G. Brinton, Races and Peoples, pp. 39-41. Philadelphia, 1901.
[51] Darwin, Descent of Man, pp. 34-35. New York, 1899.
[52] E.F. Knight, Where Three Empires Meet, pp. 137-138. London, 1897.
[53] W.Z. Ripley, Races of Europe, pp. 58-71, Map. New York, 1898.
[54] _Ibid._, p. 566. D.G. Brinton, Races and Peoples, pp. 29-30.
Philadelphia, 1901.
[55] D. Livingstone, Missionary Travels, p. 607. New York, 1858.
[56] Williams and Calvert, Fiji and the Fijians, p. 83, New York, 1859.
[57] P. Ehrenreich, _Die Urbewohner Brasiliens_, p. 32. Braunschweig,
1897.
[58] T. Waitz, Anthropology, pp. 46-49. Edited by Collingwood, London,
1863.
[59] _Philippine Census_, Vol. I, p. 552. Washington, 1903.
[60] F. Ratzel, History of Mankind, Vol. III, p. 106. London, 1908.
[61] Major Charles E. Woodruff, The Effect of Tropical Light on the
White Man, New York, 1905, is a suggestive but not convincing discussion
of the theory.
[62] W.Z. Ripley, Races of Europe, pp. 74-77. New York, 1899.
[63] Quoted in G. Sergi, The Mediterranean Race, p. 73. London and New
York, 1901.
[64] _Ibid._, pp. 63-69, 74-75.
[65] T. Waitz, Anthropology, pp. 44-45. Edited by J.F. Collingwood,
London, 1863.
[66] W.Z. Ripley, Races of Europe, p. 76. New York, 1899.
[67] For able discussion, see Topinard, Anthropology, pp. 385-392. Tr.
from French, London, 1894.
[68] J. Johnson, Jurisprudence of the Isle of Man, pp. 44, 71.
Edinburgh, 1811.
[69] Charles F. Hall, Arctic Researches and Life among the Eskimo, p.
571. New York, 1866. Franz Boas, The Central Eskimo, _Sixth Annual
Report of the Bureau of Ethnology_, pp. 588-590. Washington, 1888.
[70] Ratzel, History of Mankind, Vol. I, p. 35. London, 1896-1898.
[71] Roscher, _National-Oekonomik des Ackerbaues_, p. 34, note 8.
Stuttgart, 1888.
[72] Elisée Reclus, The Earth and Its Inhabitants, _Asia_, Vol. I, p.
171. New York, 1895.
[73] Alfred Hettner, _Die Geographie des Menschen_, pp. 409-410 in
_Geographische Zeitschrift_, Vol. XIII, No. 8. Leipzig, 1907.
[74] S.B. Boulton, The Russian Empire, pp. 60-64. London, 1882.
[75] E.C. Semple, The Anglo-Saxons of the Kentucky Mountains, _The
Geographical Journal_, Vol. XVII, No. 6, pp. 588-623. London, 1901.
[76] E.C. Semple, American History and its Geographic Conditions, pp.
25-31. Boston, 1903. The Influence of Geographic Environment on the
Lower St. Lawrence, Bull. _Amer. Geog. Society_, Vol. XXXVI, p. 449-466.
New York, 1904.