This, which is the last of the Lipari isles, bears in every part the
stamp of fire. It was the superstitious belief of the ancient
inhabitants that Vulcan had here established his forges, there being
constant fires during the night, and a thick smoke throughout the day.
It consists of a mountain in the form of a truncated cone, which is,
however, merely a case opening and exposing to view a second cone
within, more exact than the other, and in which the mouth of the volcano
is placed. The latter is thus enveloped on three sides by the ancient
cone, and is open only on that side which is immediately washed by the
sea.
The base of the interior cone is separated from the steep sides of the
ancient crater by a circular valley, which terminates on one side at the
junction of the two mountains, and on the other sinks into the sea. In
this valley, light pumice-stones are blended with fragments of black,
vitreous lava, and buried in ashes perfectly white. The blow of a hammer
on these stones produces a loud hollow sound, which reëchoes in the
neighboring caverns, and proves that the surface is nothing more than
the arch of a vault covering an immense abyss. The sound varies
according to the thickness of the crust, which must have considerable
solidity to support the weight of the new mountain. This, according to
Dolomieu, is higher and steeper than the cone which contains the crater
of Etna, and its access still more difficult; its perpendicular hight,
however, is not more than twenty-six hundred and forty feet, or half a
mile. He represents the crater of Vulcano as the most magnificent he
ever saw; and Spallanzani observes that, with the exception of that of
Etna, he does not know of any more capacious and majestic. It exceeds a
mile in circuit, has an oval mouth, and its greatest diameter is from
the south-east to the west, while its depth is not more than a quarter
of a mile. The bottom is flat, and from many places streams of smoke
exhale, emitting a strong sulphureous vapor. This vast cavity is very
regular, and as its entire contents are displayed to the eye, presents
one of the grandest and most imposing spectacles in nature. On large
stones being rolled down, the mountain reëchoes; and on their reaching
the bottom, they appear to sink in fluid. Indeed, with the aid of a
glass, two small lakes, supposed to be filled with melted sulphur, have
been discovered. The declivity of the interior walls is so great, that,
even when there is not any danger from fire, the descent is next to
impossible. After considerable difficulty, however, this was
accomplished by Spallanzani on the south-east side, the only one
accessible. He found the bottom to be somewhat more than one-third of a
mile in circumference, and of an oval form. The subterraneous noise was
here much louder than on the summit, sounding like an impetuous river
foaming beneath, or, rather, like a conflict of agitated waves meeting
and clashing furiously together. The ground was likewise in some places
perforated with apertures, from which hissing sounds issued, resembling
those produced by the bellows of a furnace. It shook when pressed by the
feet; and a large piece of lava, let fall five or six feet, produced a
subterraneous echoing sound, which continued some time, and was loudest
in the center. These circumstances, combined with its burning heat, and
the strong stench of sulphur it emits, prove that the fires of the
volcano are still active.
Its eruptions have been most considerable during the earthquakes which
have desolated Sicily and a greater part of Italy. In the month of
March, 1786, after subterraneous thunders and roarings, which were heard
over all the islands, to the great terror of the inhabitants, and were
accompanied by frequent concussions, the crater threw out a prodigious
quantity of sand, mixed with immense volumes of smoke and fire. This
eruption continued fifteen days, and so great was the quantity of sand
ejected that the circumjacent places were entirely covered with it to a
considerable hight. The lava did not flow at the time, at least over the
edges of the crater; and indeed, such a current is not remembered by any
living person.
THE HIMALAYA MOUNTAINS.
BETWEEN INDIA AND THIBET.
“The great Himalayan snowy range,” says Mr. Fraser, “is only the high
elevated crest of the mountainous tract that divides the plains of
Hindoostan from those of Thibet, or Lesser Tartary. Far as they
predominate over, and precipitously as they rear themselves above the
rest, all the hills that appear in distant ranges, when viewed from the
plains, are indeed only the roots and branches of this great stem; and,
however difficult to trace, the connection can always be detected
between each inferior mountain and some particular member of its great
origin.
“The horizontal depth of this mountainous tract, on that side which
overlooks Hindoostan, is no doubt various; but, from the difficulty of
the country, a traveler performs a journey of many days before he
reaches the foot of the immediate snowy cliffs. The best observations
and surveys do not authorize the allowance of more than an average depth
of about sixty miles from the plains to the commencement of these, in
that part of the country that forms the subject of this narrative. The
breadth of the snowy zone itself in all probability varies still more;
for huge masses advance in some places into the lower districts, and in
others the crest recedes in long ravines, that are the beds of torrents,
while behind they are clothed by a succession of the loftier cliffs.
Every account we receive of a passage through them, (and this is no
doubt found most commonly where the belt is narrowest,) gives a detail
of many days’ journey through the deserts of snow and rocks; and it is
to be inferred, that on the north-east side they advance to, and retreat
from the low ground in an equally irregular manner. Indeed, some
accounts would induce the belief, that long ranges, crowned with
snow-clad peaks, project in various places from the great spine, and
include habitable and milder districts; for, in all the routes of which
we have accounts, that proceed, in various directions toward the
Trans-Himalayan countries, hills covered with snow are occasionally
mentioned as occurring, even after the great deserts are passed, and the
grazing country entered. The breadth, then, of this crest of snow-clad
rock itself, can not fairly be estimated at less than from seventy to
eighty miles.
“The great snowy belt, although its loftiest crest is broken into
numberless cliffs and ravines, nevertheless presents a barrier perfectly
impracticable, except in those places where hollows that become the beds
of rivers have in some degree intersected it, and facilitated approach
to its more remote recesses, or courageous and attentive perseverance
has here and there, discovered a dangerous and difficult path, by which
a possibility exists of penetrating across the range. Few rivers hold
their course wholly through it: indeed, in the upper part the Sutlej
alone has been traced beyond this rocky barrier; and there is a path
along its stream, from different parts of which roads diverge, that lead
in various directions through the mountain. No reasonable doubt can now
exist of the very long and extraordinary course which this river takes.
“Captain Webb of the Bengal establishment, was at one time employed on a
survey of a province of Kumaoon. On the twenty-first day of June, his
camp was eleven thousand, six hundred and eighty feet above Calcutta.
The surface was covered with very rich vegetation as high as the knee;
there were very extensive beds of strawberries in full flower; and
plenty of currant-bushes in blossom all around, in a clear spot of rich
black mold soil, surrounded by a noble forest of pine, oak and
rhododendron. On the twenty-second of June he reached the top of
Pilgoenta-Churhaee, (or ascent,) twelve thousand, six hundred and
forty-two feet above Calcutta. He was prevented from distinguishing very
distant objects by a dense fog; but there was not the smallest patch of
snow near him; and the surface, a fat black mold through which the rock
peeped, was covered with strawberry plants, (not yet in flower,)
butter-cups, dandelions, and a profusion of other flowers. The shoulders
of the hill above him, about four hundred and fifty feet more elevated,
were covered with the same to the top; and above five hundred feet below
was a forest of pine, rhododendron and birch. There was some snow seen
below in deep hollows, but it dissolves in the course of the season.
These facts led Captain Webb to infer, that the inferior limit of
perpetual congelation on the Himalaya mountains is beyond thirteen
thousand, five hundred feet, at least, above the level of Calcutta: and
that the level of the table-land of Tartary, immediately bordering on
their range, is very far elevated beyond eight thousand feet, the hight
at which it has been estimated.
“On the night of the sixteenth of July, we slept at Bheemkeudar, near
the source of the Coonoo and Bheem streams. There is no wood near this
place, even in the very bottom of the valley, and we had left even the
stunted birch at a considerable distance below; but there was a
profusion of flowers, ferns, thistles, &c., and luxuriant pasturage.
Captain Webb’s limit of wood is at least as high as twelve thousand to
twelve thousand, three hundred feet. I would, therefore, presume the
site of Bheemkeudar to be considerably above that level; say thirteen
thousand to thirteen thousand, three hundred feet, above the level of
Calcutta. From thence we ascended at first rather gradually, and then
very rapidly, till we left all luxuriant vegetation, and entered the
region of stripped and scattered and partially melting snow. From
calculating the distance passed, and adverting to the elevation we had
attained, I would presume that this was at least fifteen hundred feet
above Bheemkeudar, or from fourteen thousand, five hundred, to fifteen
thousand feet above Calcutta.
“We proceeded onward, ascending very rapidly, while vegetation decreased
gradually to a mere green moss, with here and there a few snow-flowers
starting through it; snow fast increasing, till at length we entered on
what I presume was the perennial and unmelting snow, entirely beyond the
line of vegetation, where the rock was bare even of lichens: and in this
we ascended, as I think, about eight hundred feet; for, though Bamsooroo
Ghat may not be so far above this line, we continued ascending, even
after crossing that point, and I would incline to estimate this utmost
extent of ascent at two thousand feet more, or nearly seventeen thousand
feet above the level of Calcutta.
“Whilst proposing to consider the point of sixteen thousand to sixteen
thousand, five hundred feet, as that of inferior congelation, I must
observe that there was no feeling of _frost_ in the air, and the snow
was moist, though hard, chiefly through the influence of a thick mist,
which, in fact, amounted to a very small drizzling rain, which fell
around: all which would seem to indicate, that the true line of
congelation had not there been attained; but we were surrounded by snow
which evidently never melted. To a great depth below it extended all
over the hills, very little broken, while on the valleys from whence the
Coonoo and Bheem streams issue, at full two thousand feet below, it lay
covering them and the surrounding mountains in an unbroken mass, many
hundred feet thick. Thus, though it may seem contradictory, the line of
perpetual congelation, in fact seems fixable at even below the point I
have ventured to indicate, and, I presume, might, on these grounds, be
placed somewhere between fifteen and sixteen thousand feet above the
level of Calcutta.
“The result of all the considerations that arise out of the foregoing
remarks is a belief, that the loftiest peaks of the Himalaya range will
be found to fall considerably short of the hight attributed to them by
Mr. Colebrooke; and that their loftiest peaks do not more than range
from eighteen thousand to twenty-two or twenty-three thousand feet above
the level of the sea.
“Having reached the top of an ascent, we looked down upon a very deep
and dark glen, called Palia Gadh, which is the outlet to the waters of
one of the most terrific and gloomy valleys I have ever seen. But it
would not be easy to convey by any description a just idea of the
peculiarly rugged and gloomy wildness of this glen: it looks like the
ruins of nature, and appears, as it is said to be, completely
impracticable and impenetrable. Little is to be seen except dark rock:
wood only fringes the lower parts and the waters’ edge: perhaps the
spots and streaks of snow, contrasting with the general blackness of the
scene, highten the appearance of desolation. No living thing is seen; no
motion is visible but that of the waters; no sound is heard but their
roar. Such a spot is suited to engender superstition, and here it is
accordingly found in full growth. Many wild traditions are preserved,
and many extravagant stories related of it.
“The glen above described, is by far the most gloomy, savage scene we
have yet met with. I regret that the weather did not permit a sketch of
it to be attempted. Beyond this we could see nothing in the course of
the river but rocky banks. The opposite side is particularly
precipitous; yet along its face a road is carried, which is frequented
as much as this, and leads to villages still farther up. By the time we
had reached the village, the clouds which had lowered around and sunk
down on the hills, began to burst with loud thunder and heavy rain. The
noise was fearfully reverberated among the hills; and during the night
more than once the sound was heard of fragments from the brows of the
mountains, crashing down to the depths below with a terrific din. Our
quarters were good. I slept in a temple, neat, clean and secure from the
weather.”
[Illustration: SOURCE OF THE JUMNA.]
GUNGOTREE, THE SOURCE OF THE JUMNA, A BRANCH OF THE
GANGES, IN THE HIMALAYA MOUNTAINS.
Gungotree, the source of the Jumna, represented in the cut below, the
most sacred branch of the Ganges, ought to hold, and does hold the first
rank among its holy places. Here all is mythological ground. Here
Mahadeo sits enthroned in clouds and mist, amid rocks that defy the
approach of living thing, and snows that make desolation more awful.
Gods, goddesses and saints here continually adore him at mysterious
distance, and you traverse their familiar haunts. But, although
Gungotree be the most sacred, it is not the most frequented shrine,
access to it being far more difficult than to Buddrinauth; and
consequently to this latter, pilgrims flock in crowds, appalled at the
remoteness and danger of the former place of worship. This may pretty
fully account for the superior riches and splendor of Buddrinauth. Here
are temples of considerable extent, priests and officials in abundance,
who preserve an imposing exterior, and an appearance venerable from
power and comparative magnificence, and consequently procure rich and
ample offerings to keep up their comfortable dignity.
The temple of Bhadrinath, is situated on the west bank of the Alackunda,
in a valley four miles long, and one mile in its greatest breadth. The
east bank rises considerably higher than the west bank, and is on a
level with the top of the temple. The position of the sanctuary is
considered equidistant from two lofty mountains, which are designated by
the names of the Nar and the Narayena Purvatas. The former is to the
east, the latter to the west, and completely covered with snow from the
summit to the base.
The temple of Bhadri-Nath has more beneficed lands attached to it than
any sacred Hindoo establishment in this part of India. It is said to
possess seven hundred villages in different parts of Gurwhal and
Kumaoon: many of them have been conferred by the government; others have
been given in pledge for loans; and some few, purchased by individuals,
have been presented as religious offerings.
The annual ceremony of carrying the images of their gods to wash in the
sacred stream of the Jumna, is, it appears, one of much solemnity among
the inhabitants of the neighborhood; and the concourse of people that
here assemble, are busily engaged, and continue to be fully occupied in
doing honor to it. They dance to the sound of strange music, and
intoxicate themselves with a sort of vile spirit, brewed from grain and
particular roots, sometimes, it is said, sharpened by pepper. The dance
is most grotesque and savage; a multitude of men taking hands sometimes
in a circle, sometimes in a line, beating time with their feet, bend
with one accord, first nearly to the earth with their faces, then
backward, and then sidewise, with various wild contortions. These, and
their uncouth dress of black and gray blankets, give a peculiar air of
brutal ferocity to the assemblage. The men dance all day, and in the
evening they are joined by the women, who mix indiscriminately with
them, and keep up dancing and intoxication till the night is far
advanced. They continue this frantic kind of worship for several days;
and, in truth, it is much in unison with their general manners and
habits, savage and inconsistent. At a place so sacred, the residence of
so many Brahmins, and the resort of so many pilgrims, we might expect to
find a strict attention to the forms of religion, and a scrupulous
observance of the privations and austerities enjoined by it. So far,
however, is this from the truth, that much is met with, shocking even to
those Hindoos who are less bigoted.
“There were several points to be arranged,” says Mr. Fraser, “before we
could set off for Gungotree, the source of the Jumna. I did not deem it
proper to go unarmed; but agreed that only five men should be accoutered
to attend us, and that I should myself carry my gun. But all these
weapons of war were to be put aside before we got within sight of the
holy spot, and deposited in a cave near it, under a guard. I also
pledged myself that no use should be made of these instruments, nor any
life sacrificed for the purpose of food, either by myself or by any of
my people, after leaving the village, until we returned; moreover, that
I would not even carry meat of any sort, dead or alive, along with me,
but eat only rice and bread. As to the putting off my shoes, they did
not even propose it to me, and it could not have been done; but I
volunteered to put them off, when entering into the precincts of the
temple and holier places, which pleased them greatly. All the Hindoos,
including the Ghoorkhas, went from the village barefoot.
“Just at the end of the bridge there is an overhanging rock, under which
worship is performed to Bhyram, and a black stone partly painted red, is
the image of the god; and here not only were prayers and worship
performed, but every one was obliged to bathe and eat bread baked by the
Brahmins, as preparatory to the great and effectual ablutions at the
holier Gungotree. This occupied a considerable time, as the party was
numerous: in the mean time I took a very imperfect sketch of the scene,
after which I bathed myself at the proper place, which is the junction
of the two streams, while the Brahmin prayed over me. Among the
ceremonies performed, he made me hold a tuft of grass while he prayed,
which at the conclusion he directed me to throw into the eddy occasioned
by the meeting of the two waters.
“By an unpleasant path we reached a step, or level spot on the first
stage of the mountain, where, in a thick grove of fir-trees, is placed a
small temple to Bhyram, a plain white building, built by order of Umur
Sing T’happa, who gave a sum of money to repair the road, and erect
places of worship here, and at Gungotree. Having paid our respects to
Byramjee, we proceeded along the side of the hill on the right bank,
north of the river, gradually ascending by a path equally difficult and
dangerous as the first part of our ascent, but more fearful, as the
precipice to the river, which rolls below us, increases in hight, and
exceedingly toilsome from the nature of the ground over which it passes,
and which consists wholly of sharp fragments from the cliffs above, with
fallen trunks and broken branches of trees.
“The path increases in difficulty from the very irregular nature of the
ground, as well as the steepness of the hill face across which it leads,
ascending and descending as the small, though deep water-courses furrow
the mountain side, in loose soil, formed of small fragments fallen from
above, and which slip down, threatening to carry the traveler to the
gulf below. The shapeless blocks of rock now more completely obstruct
the way, and for hundreds of yards, at times, the passenger must clamber
over these masses, heaped as they are one upon another, in monstrous
confusion, and so uncertain and unsteady, that, huge though they are,
they shake and move even under the burden of a man’s weight. So painful
indeed is this track, that it might be conceived as meant to serve as a
penance to the unfortunate pilgrims with bare feet, thus to prepare them
for the special and conclusive act of piety they have in view, as the
object of their journey to these extreme wilds.
“The spot which bears the name of Gungotree, is concealed by the
roughness of the ground, and the masses of fallen rock, so as not to be
seen till the traveler comes close upon it. The temple is situated
precisely on the sacred stone on which Bhagirutte used to worship
Mahadeo, and is a small building of a square shape for about twelve feet
high, and rounding in, in the usual form of pagodas, to the top. It is
quite plain, painted white, with red moldings, and surmounted with the
usual melon-shaped ornaments of these buildings. From the eastern face
of the square, which is turned nearly to the sacred source, there is a
small projection covered with a stone roof, in which is the entrance
facing the east, and just opposite this there is a small pagoda-shaped
temple to Bhyramjee. The whole is surrounded by a wall of unhewn stone
and lime, and the space this contains is paved with flat stones. In this
space too, there is a comfortable but small house for the residence of
the Brahmins who come to officiate. Without the inclosure there are two
or three sheds constructed of wood, called _dhurum sallahs_, built for
the accommodation of pilgrims who resort here; and there are many caves
around formed by overhanging stones, which yield a shelter to those who
can not find accommodation in the sheds.
“The scene in which this holy place is situated, is worthy of the
mysterious sanctity attributed to it, and the reverence with which it is
regarded. We have not here the confined gloominess of Bhyram Gattee: the
actual dread which can not but be inspired by the precipices and
torrents, and perils of the place, here gives way to a sensation of awe,
imposing but not embarrassing, that might be compared to the dark and
dangerous pass to the center of the ruins of a former world; for, most
truly, there is little here that recalls the recollection of that which
we seem to have quitted. The bare and peaked cliffs which shoot to the
skies, yield not in ruggedness or elevation to any we have seen; their
ruins lie in wild chaotic masses at their feet, and scantier wood
imperfectly relieves their nakedness: even the dark pine more rarely
roots itself in the deep chasms which time has worn. Thus on all sides
is the prospect closed, except in front to the eastward; where, from
behind a mass of bare spires, four huge, lofty, snowy peaks arise: these
are the peaks of Roodroo-Himala. There could be no finer finishing, no
grander close to such a scene, as is visible in the engraving.
“We approach it through a labyrinth of enormous shapeless masses of
granite, which during ages have fallen from the cliffs above, that frown
over the very temple, and in all probability will some day themselves
descend in ruins and crush it. Around the inclosure, and among these
masses, for some distance up the mountain, a few fine old pine-trees
throw a dark shade and form a magnificent foreground; while the river
runs impetuously in its shingly bed, and the stifled but fearful sound
of the stones which it rolls along with it, crushing together, mixes
with the roar of its waters.
“It is easy to write of rocks and wilds, of torrents and precipices; it
is easy to tell of the awe such scenes inspire: this style and these
descriptions are common and hackneyed. But it is not so simple, to many
surely not very possible, to convey an adequate idea of the stern and
rugged majesty of some scenes; to paint their lonely desertness, or
describe the undefinable sensation of reverence and dread that steals
over the mind while contemplating the death-like, ghastly calm that is
shed over them: and when at such a moment we remember our homes, our
friends, our firesides, and all social intercourse with our fellows, and
feel our present solitude, and far distance from all these dear ties,
how vain it is to strive at description! Surely such a scene is
Gungotree. [See cut, page 109.] Nor is it, independently of the nature
of the surrounding scenery, a spot which lightly calls forth powerful
feelings. We were now in the center of the stupendous Himalaya, the
loftiest and perhaps most rugged range of mountains in the world. We
were at the acknowledged source of that noble river, which is equally an
object of veneration and a source of fertility, plenty and opulence to
Hindoostan; and we had now reached the holiest shrine of Hindoo worship
which these holy hills contain. These are surely striking
considerations, combining with the solemn grandeur of the place, to move
the feelings strongly.
“The fortuitous circumstance of being the first European that ever
penetrated to this spot, was no matter of boast, for no great danger had
been braved, no extraordinary fatigues undergone; the road is now open
to any other who chooses to attempt it; but it was a matter of
satisfaction to myself. The first object of inquiry that naturally
occurs to the traveler, after casting a glance over the general
landscape, is the source of the river. Here, as at Jumnotree, you are
told that no mortal has gone, or can go further toward its extreme
origin than this spot; and the difficulty is indeed very apparent. I
made a trial to gain a point about two furlongs beyond the temple, both
for the purpose of observing the course of the river, and of seeing
Gungotree in another point of view. But having with considerable
difficulty made my way over the unsteady fragments for some hundred
yards, at the risk of being precipitated into the stream, I was forced
to turn back.
“The source is not more than five miles’ horizontal distance from the
temple, and in a direction south-east, eighty-five degrees nearly; and
beyond this place it is in all probability chiefly supplied by the
melting of the great bosom of snow which terminates the valley, and
which lies between the peaks of the great mountain above mentioned.
“This mountain, which is considered to be the loftiest and greatest of
the snowy range in this quarter, and probably yields to none in the
whole Himalaya, obtains the name of Roodroo Himala, and is held to be
the throne or residence of Mahadeo himself. It is also indiscriminately
called Pauch Purbut, from its five peaks, and Soomeroo Purbot, which is
not to be confounded with the mountain so called near Bunderbouch; and
sometimes the general appellation of Kylas is given, which literally
signifies any snowy hill, but is applied to this mountain by way of
preëminence. It has five principal peaks, called Roodroo Himala,
Burrumpooree, Bissenpooree, Oodgurre Kanta and Soorga Rounee. These form
a sort of semicircular hollow of very considerable extent, filled with
eternal snow, from the gradual dissolution of the lower parts of which
the principal part of the stream is generated: probably there may be
smaller hollows beyond the point to the right above Gungotree, which
also supply a portion.
“Within the temple there are three images; one, that of Kali; and the
elevated stone shelf on which they were placed was wet and soiled with
the offerings made; there was a peculiar smell, but I know not whence it
proceeded. The place, as usual, was lighted by a small lamp: no daylight
had admittance. Just below the temple, on the river side, grew three
poplar trees, and a few small larches; above there are the remains of a
fine old silver fir-tree, which overshadows some of the caves and sheds.
The whole people also bathed, and contributed something to the
priesthood; and it was a matter of serious importance, as well as of
great joy to every one, that we had thus happily reached a place of such
supereminent sanctity: such, indeed, that the act of bathing here is
supposed to cleanse from every sin heretofore committed, and the
difficulty of which is so great, that few, except professional devotees,
ever attempt reaching the holy place.
“It is customary that those who have lost their father and mother, or
either of these, shall be shaved at this spot; and it was curious to
observe the whimsical changes produced by the operation, which numbers
underwent. It appears also, that one chief ordinance was the going
frequently round the holy temple; and we particularly observed that
those who were noted as the greatest rogues were most forward in this
pious exercise: one man, in particular, who had been a notorious thief,
was unwearied in his perseverance.
“Well, indeed, do they say, that Seeva has made these recesses which he
inhabits, inaccessible to all but those whom true devotion leads to his
shrine. That man must have been indeed strongly impelled by devotion,
ambition, or curiosity, who first explored the way to Gungotree. It were
unavailing to inquire, and perhaps of little use, if known, to which of
these motives we owe the enterprise; but patience, perseverance, and
courage, must have been strongly united with it to lead him safely and
successfully through those awful cliffs, that would bar the way to most
men. Another omen of favor pointed out was, the increase of the river
after bathing, as at Jumnotree; and it is singular enough, that during
the time we remained here, I remarked several increases and decreases of
the water, without any obvious causes; but these may fairly be referred
to the effects of sudden changes of temperature occurring frequently
among the hills, and acting on the body of snow that feeds the river.”