CHAPTER II.

DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE POLAR COUNTRIES.

Spitzbergen extends furthest towards the north of any country yet

discovered. It is surrounded by the Arctic Ocean, or Greenland

Sea; and, though the occasional resort of persons drawn thither

for purposes of hunting and fishing, does not appear to have been

ever inhabited. It lies between the latitudes 76° 30′ and 80° 7′

north, and between the longitude of 9°, and, perhaps, 22° east;

but some of the neighbouring islands extend at least as far north

as 80° 40′, and still further towards the east than the mainland

of Spitzbergen. The western part of this country was discovered

by Barentz, Heemskerke, and Ryp, in two vessels, fitted out of

Amsterdam, on the 19th of June, 1596, who, from the numerous peaks

and acute mountains observed on the coast, gave it the appropriate

name of Spitzbergen, signifying “sharp mountains.” It was afterwards

named _Newland_, or _King James’s Newland_, and then _Greenland_,

being supposed to be a continuation towards the east of the country

so-called by the Icelanders. It was re-discovered by Henry Hudson,

an English navigator, in 1607, and four years afterwards became the

resort of the English for the purpose of taking whales, since which

period its shores have annually been visited by one or other of the

nations of Europe, with the same object, to the present time. And

though the soil of the whole of this remote country does not produce

vegetables suitable or sufficient for the nourishment of a single

human being, yet its coasts and adjacent seas have afforded riches

and independence to thousands.

This country exhibits many interesting views, with numerous examples

of the sublime. Its stupendous hills, rising by steep acclivities

from the very margin of the ocean to an immense height; its surface,

contrasting the native, protruding, dark-coloured rocks, with the

burden of purest snow and magnificent ices, altogether constitute an

extraordinary and beautiful picture.

The whole of the western coast is mountainous and picturesque, and

though it is shone upon by a four months’ sun every year, its snowy

covering is never wholly dissolved, nor are its icy monuments of

the dominion of frost ever removed. The valleys, opening towards

the coast, and terminating in the background with a transverse

chain of mountains, are chiefly filled with everlasting ice. The

inland valleys, at all seasons, present a smooth and continued bed

of snow, in some places divided by considerable rivulets, but in

others exhibiting a pure unbroken surface for many leagues in extent.

Along the western coast, the mountains take their rise from within

a league of the sea, and some from its very edge. Few tracts of

table-land, of more than a league in breadth, are to be seen, and in

many places the blunt termination of mountain ridges project beyond

the regular line of the coast, and overhang the waters of the ocean.

The southern part of Spitzbergen consists of groups of insulated

mountains, little disposed in chains, or in any determinate order,

having conical, pyramidal, or ridged summits, sometimes round-backed,

frequently terminating in points, and occasionally in acute peaks,

not unlike spires. An arm of a short mountain chain, however, forms

the southern cape, or Point Look-out, but a low flat, in the form of

a fish’s tail, of about forty square miles in surface, constitutes

the termination of the coast. Other promontories, lying nearly north

and south, are of a similar nature.

To the northward of Charles’s Island the mountains are more

dispersed in chains than they are to the southward. The principal

ridge lies nearly north and south, and the principal valley extends

from the head of Cross Bay to the northern face of the country,

a distance of forty or fifty miles. An inferior chain of hills,

two or three leagues from the coast, runs parallel with the shore,

from which lateral ridges project into the sea, and terminate in

mural precipices. Between these lateral ridges, some of the largest

icebergs on the coast occur. The most remarkable mountains I have

seen are situated near Horn Sound, on Charles’s Island, and near

King’s Bay. Horn Mount, or Hedge-hog Mount, so-called from an

appearance of spires on the top, when seen in some positions, takes

its rise from a small tract of alpine land, on the southern side

of Horn Sound. It has different summits, chiefly in the form of

spires, one of which is remarkably elevated. I had an opportunity of

determining its height in the year 1815. From one set of observations

its altitude came out 1,457 yards, and from another 1,473 yards, the

mean of which is 1,465 yards, or 4,395 feet. Another peak, a few

miles further to the northward, appeared to be 3,306 feet high.

On Charles’s Island is a curious peak, which juts into the sea. It

is crooked, perfectly naked, being equally destitute of snow and

verdure, and from its black appearance, or pointed figure, has been

denominated the Devil’s Thumb. Its height may be about 1,500 or

2,000 feet. The middle hook of the foreland, as the central part

of the chain of mountains in Charles’s Island is called, is a very

interesting part of the coast. These mountains, which are, perhaps,

the highest land adjoining the sea which is to be met with, take

their rise at the water’s edge, and, by a continued ascent of an

angle at first of about 30°, and increasing to about 45°, or more,

each comes to a point, with the elevation of about six-sevenths of

an English mile. This portion of the chain exhibits five distinct

summits, some of them to appearance are within half a league,

horizontal distance, of the margin of the sea. The points formed by

the top of two or three of them are so fine, that the imagination is

at a loss to conceive of a place on which an adventurer, attempting

the hazardous exploit of climbing one of the summits, might rest.

Were such an undertaking practicable, it is evident it could not be

effected without imminent danger. Besides extraordinary courage and

strength requisite in the adventurer, such an attempt would need

the utmost powers of exertion, as well as the most irresistible

perseverance. Frederick Martens, in his excellent account of a

“Voyage to Spitzbergen,” undertaken in the year 1671, describes

some of the cliffs as consisting of but one stone from the bottom

to the top, and as smelling very sweet where covered with lichens.

In Magdalen Bay, the rocks he describes as lying in a semicircular

form, having at each extremity two high mountains, with natural

excavations, “after the fashion of a breastwork,” and, at their

summits, points and cracks like battlements.

Some of the mountains of Spitzbergen are well-proportioned,

four-sided pyramids, rising out of a base of a mile, or a mile and

a half, to a league square; others form angular chains, resembling

the roof of a house, which recede from the shore in parallel ridges,

until they dwindle into obscurity in the distant perspective. Some

exhibit the exact resemblance of art, but in a style of grandeur

exceeding the famed pyramids of the east, or even the more wonderful

tower of Babel. An instance of such a regular and magnificent work of

nature is seen near the head of King’s Bay, consisting of three piles

of rocks, of a regular form, known by the name of the Three Crowns.

They rest on the top of the ordinary mountains, each commencing with

a square table, or horizontal stratum of rock, on the top of which

is another of similar form and height, but of smaller area; this is

continued by a third, a fourth, and so on, each succeeding stratum

being less than the next below it, until it forms a pyramid of steps,

almost as regular, to appearance, as if worked by art.

Many of the mountains of Spitzbergen are inaccessible. The steepness

of the ascent, and the looseness of the rocks, with the numerous

lodgments of ice in the cliffs, or on the sides of the cliffs,

constitute in many places insurmountable obstacles. Some hills,

indeed, may be climbed with tolerable safety, but generally the

attempt is hazardous. Many have fallen and lost their lives,

especially in the descent. When Barentz and Heemskerke discovered

Cherie Island, on their advance towards the north, they also

discovered Spitzbergen, when some daring fellows among their sailors,

who had been collecting birds’ eggs, climbed a high, steep mountain,

resembling those of Spitzbergen, and unexpectedly found themselves

in a most perilous situation, for, on turning to descend, the way

by which they had advanced presented a dismal assemblage of pointed

rocks, perpendicular precipices, and yawning chasms. The view of the

danger of the ascent struck them with terror. No relief, however,

could be afforded them, and they were bewildered among the rocks.

At length, after a most anxious and painful exercise, in which they

found it necessary to slide down the rocks, while lying flat on their

bodies, they reached the foot of the cliff in safety. Barentz, who

had observed their conduct from the shore, gave them a sharp reproof

for their temerity.

One of the most interesting appearances to be found in Spitzbergen,

is the iceberg. These mountains of ice occur in the valleys adjoining

the coast of Spitzbergen, and other Polar countries. A little to the

northward of Charles’s Island are the _Seven Icebergs_. Each of these

occupies a deep valley, opening towards the sea, formed by hills of

about two thousand feet elevation on the sides, and terminated in

the interior by the chain of mountains, of perhaps three thousand

to three thousand three hundred feet in height, which follows the

line of the coast. They are exactly of the nature and appearance of

glaciers, and there are many others of various sizes along the shores

of this remarkable country.

It is not easy to form an adequate conception of these truly

wonderful productions of nature. Their magnitude, their beauty,

and the contrast they form with the gloomy rocks around, produce

sensations of lively interest. Their upper surfaces are generally

concave; the higher parts are always covered with snow, and have

a beautiful appearance, but the lower parts, in the latter end of

every summer, present a bare surface of ice. The front of each, which

varies in height from the level of the ocean to four hundred or five

hundred feet above it, lies parallel with the shore, and is generally

washed by the sea. This part, resting on the strand, is undermined

to such an extent by the sea, when any way turbulent, that immense

masses, loosened by the freezing of water, lodged in the recesses

in winter, or by the effect of streams of water running over its

surface and through its chasms in summer, break asunder, and, with a

thundering noise, fall into the sea.

On an excursion to one of the Seven Icebergs, in July, 1818, I was

particularly successful in witnessing one of the grandest effects

which these Polar glaciers ever present. A strong north-westerly

swell having, for some hours, been beating on the shore, had loosened

a number of fragments attached to the iceberg, and various heaps

of broken ice denoted recent shoots of the seaward edge. As we rode

towards it, with a view of proceeding close to its base, I observed

a few little pieces fall from the top, and, while my eye was fixed

on the place, an immense column, probably fifty feet square, and one

hundred and fifty feet high, began to leave the parent ice at the

top, and leaning majestically forward with an accelerated velocity,

fell with an awful crash into the sea. The water into which it

plunged was converted into an appearance of vapour, or smoke, like

that from a furious cannonading. The noise was equal to that of

thunder, which it nearly resembled. The column which fell was nearly

square, and in magnitude resembled a church. It broke into thousands

of pieces. This circumstance was a happy caution, for we might

inadvertently have gone to the base of the icy cliff, from whence

masses of considerable magnitude were continually breaking.

This iceberg was full of rents as high as any of our people ascended

upon it, extending in a direction perpendicularly downward, and

dividing it into innumerable columns. The surface was very uneven,

being furrowed and cracked all over. This roughness appeared to

be occasioned by the melting of the snow, some streams of water

being seen running over the surface; and others, having worn away

the superficial ice, could still be heard pursuing their course

through subglacial channels to the front of the iceberg, where, in

transparent streams, or in small cascades, they fell into the sea. In

some places, chasms of several yards in width were seen, in others

they were only a few inches or feet across. One of the sailors, who

attempted to walk across the iceberg, imprudently stepped into a

narrow chasm, filled up with snow to the general level. He instantly

plunged up to his shoulders, and might, but for the sudden extension

of his arms, have been buried in the gulf.

Icebergs are, probably, formed of more solid ice than glaciers, but,

in every other respect, they are very similar. The ice of which they

consist is, indeed, a little porous, but considerable pieces are

found of perfect transparency. Being wholly produced from rain or

snow, the water is necessarily potable. Icebergs have, probably, the

same kind of origin as glaciers, and the time of their first stratum

is nearly coeval with the land on which they are lodged. Though large

portions may be frequently separated from the lower edge, or, by

large avalanches from the mountain summit, be hurled into the sea,

yet the annual growth replenishes the loss, and, probably, on the

whole, produces a perpetual increase in thickness.

Spitzbergen and its islands, with some other countries within

the Arctic Circle, exhibit a kind of scenery which is altogether

novel. The principal objects which strike the eye are innumerable

mountainous peaks, ridges, precipices, or needles, rising immediately

out of the sea, to an elevation of three thousand or four thousand

feet, the colour of which, at a moderate distance, appears to be

blackish shades of brown, green, grey, and purple; snow or ice, in

striæ, or patches, occupying the various clefts and hollows in the

sides of the hills, capping some of the mountain summits, and filling

with extended beds the most considerable valleys; and ice of the

glacier-form occurring at intervals all along the coast in particular

situations, as already described, in prodigious accumulations. The

glistening, or vitreous appearance of the iceberg precipices, the

purity, whiteness, and beauty of the sloping expanse, formed by the

adjoining or intermixed mountains and rocks, perpetually “covered

with a mourning veil of black lichens,” with the sudden transitions

into a robe of purest white, where patches or beds of snow occur,

present a variety and extent of contrast altogether peculiar, which,

when enlightened by the occasional ethereal brilliancy of the Polar

sky, and harmonized in its serenity with the calmness of the ocean,

constitute a picture both novel and magnificent. There is, indeed, a

kind of majesty, not to be conveyed in words, in these extraordinary

accumulations of snow and ice in the valleys, and in the rocks

above rocks, and peaks above peaks, in the mountain groups, seen

rising above the ordinary elevation of the clouds, and terminating

occasionally in crests of everlasting snow, especially when you

approach the shore under shelter of the impenetrable density of

a summer fog, in which case the fog sometimes disperses like the

drawing of a curtain, when the strong contrast of light and shade,

brightened by a cloudless atmosphere and powerful sun, bursts on the

senses in a brilliant exhibition. Here are to be beheld the glories

of that one God, who is the Maker of all things in heaven and on

earth, and who, unlike the false deities of heathen nations, is not

confined in his presence and government to any particular zone of

the earth’s surface, but illustrates the skill and excellence of his

creation, both in the beauties of icy and torrid climes.

A remarkable deception, in the apparent distance of the land, is to

be attributed to the strong contrast of light and shade, and the

great height and steepness of the mountains, displayed in these

regions. Any strangers to the Arctic countries, however capable

of judging of the distance of land generally, must be completely

at a loss in their estimations when they approach within sight of

Spitzbergen. When at the distance of twenty miles, it would be no

difficult matter to induce even a judicious stranger to undertake a

passage in a boat to the shore, from the belief that he was within

a league of the land. At this distance, the portions of rock and

patches of snow, as well as the contour of the different hills, are

as distinctly marked as similar objects in many other countries,

not having snow about them, would be at a fourth or a fifth part of

the distance. Hence we can account, on a reasonable ground, for a

curious circumstance related in a Danish voyage, undertaken for the

recovery of the last colony in Greenland, by Mogens Heinson. This

person, who passed for a renowned seaman in his day, was sent out by

Frederick II., king of Denmark. After encountering many difficulties

and dangers from storms and ice, he got sight of the east coast of

Greenland, and attempted to reach it; but, though the sea was quite

free from ice, and the wind favourable and blowing a fresh gale, he,

after proceeding several hours without appearing to get any nearer

the land, became alarmed, backed about, and returned to Denmark. On

his arrival, he attributed this extraordinary circumstance—magnified,

no doubt, by his fears—to his vessel having been stopped in its

course by “some loadstone rocks hidden in the sea.” The true cause,

however, of what he took to be a submarine magnetic influence,

arose, I doubt not, from the deceptive character of the land, as to

distance, which I have mentioned.

Spitzbergen abounds with deep bays and extensive sounds, in many

of which are excellent harbours. From Point Look-out to Hackluyt’s

Headland, the west coast forms almost a series of rocks and foul

ground, few parts, excepting the bays, affording anchoring for

ships. Some of these rocks are dry only at low water, or only show

themselves when the sea is high, and are dangerous to shipping;

others are constantly above water, or altogether so below the surface

that they can either be seen and avoided, or sailed over in moderate

weather without much hazard. On the east side of Point Look-out, a

ridge of stony ground stretches five leagues into the sea, towards

the south-east, on which the sea occasionally breaks.

Horn Sound affords tolerable anchorage; within Bell Sound are

several anchoring places and some rivers, and in Ice Sound, at Green

Harbour, is good anchorage near the bank, in ten to eight fathoms’

water, or less. In several other places, when not encumbered with

ice, there is pretty good refuge for ships. On the north and east

sides of Spitzbergen are several harbours, some of them very safe

and commodious, but they are not so often free from ice as those

westward, and, therefore, have seldom been visited.

Though the whale-fishers in the present age generally see the level

of Spitzbergen every voyage, yet not many of them visit the shores.

My father has been several times on shore in different parts. My own

landing, for the first time in an Arctic country, was on Charles’s

Island, or Fair Forehead, at the north-west point. The number of

birds seen on the precipices and rocks adjoining the sea was

immense, and the noise which they made on our approach was quite

deafening. The weather was calm and clear when I went on shore, but

suddenly, a thick fog and breeze of wind commencing, obliged us to

put off with haste, and subjected us to great anxiety before we

reached the ship.

In the summer of 1818, I was several times on shore on the main,

and landed once in the same season on the north side of King’s Bay.

Being near the land, on the evening of the 23rd of July, the weather

beautifully clear, and all our sails becalmed by the hills, excepting

the top-gallant sails, in which we had constantly a gentle breeze, I

left the ship in charge of an officer, with orders to stand no nearer

than into thirty fathoms’ water, and with two boats and fourteen men

rowed to the shore. We arrived at the beach about half-past seven,

P.M., and landed on a track of low flat ground, extending about

six miles north and south, and two or three east and west. This

table-land lies so low that it would be overflown by the sea, were it

not for a natural embankment of shingle thrown up by the sea.

After advancing about half a furlong, we met with mica slate,

in nearly perpendicular strata; and a little further on with an

extensive bed of limestone, in small angular fragments. Here and

there we saw large ponds of fresh water, derived from melted ice and

snow; in some places, small remains of snow; and lastly, near the

base of the mountains, a considerable morass, into which we sank

nearly to the knees. Some unhealthy-looking mosses appeared on this

swamp, but the softest part, as well as most of the ground we had

hitherto traversed, was entirely void of vegetation. This swamp had

a moorish look, and consisted, apparently, of black alluvial soil,

mixed with some vegetable remains, and was curiously marked on the

surface with small polygonal ridges, from one to three yards in

diameter, so combined as to give the ground an appearance such as

that exhibited by a section of honeycomb. An ascent of a few yards

from the morass, of somewhat firmer ground, brought us to the foot of

the mountain, to the northward of the Mitre Cape. Here some pretty

specimens of _Saxifraga oppositifolia_ and _Greenlandica_, _Salix

herbacea_, _Draba alpina_, _Papaver alpina_, (of Mr. Don,) etc.,

and some other plants in full flower, were found on little tufts of

soil, and scattered about on the ascent. The first hill rose at an

inclination of 45°, to the height of about fifteen hundred feet, and

was joined on the north side to another of about twice the elevation.

We began to climb the acclivity on the most accessible side, at

about 10, P.M.; but, from the looseness of the stones, and the

steepness of the ascent, we found it a most difficult undertaking.

There was scarcely a possibility of advancing by the common movement

of walking in this attempt; for the ground gave way at every step,

and no progress was made; hence, the only method of succeeding

was by the effort of leaping or running, which, under the peculiar

circumstances, could not be accomplished without excessive fatigue.

In the direction we traversed, we met with angular fragments of

limestone and quartz, chiefly of one or two pounds’ weight, and a

few naked rocks protruding through the loose materials, of which the

side of the mountain, to the extent it was visible, was principally

composed. These rocks appeared solid at a little distance, but, on

examination, were found to be full of fractures in every direction,

so that it was with difficulty that a specimen of five or six pounds’

weight, in a solid mass, could be obtained. Along the side of the

first range of hills, near the summit, was extended a band of ice and

snow, which, in the direct ascent, we tried in vain to surmount. By

great exertion, however, in tracing the side of the hill for about

two hundred yards, where it was so uncommonly steep that at every

step showers of stones were precipitated to the bottom, we found a

sort of angle of the hill, free from ice, by which the summit was

scaled.

Here we rested until I took a few angles and bearings of the most

prominent parts of the coast, when, having collected specimens of

the minerals, and such few plants as the barren ridge afforded, we

proceeded on our excursion. In our way to the principal mountain

near us, we passed along a ridge of the secondary mountains, which

was so acute that I sat across it with a leg on each side as on

horseback. To the very top it consisted of loose sharp limestones,

of a yellowish or reddish colour, smaller in size than the stones

generally used for repairing high roads, few pieces being above a

pound in weight. The fracture appeared rather fresh. After passing

along this ridge about three or four furlongs, and crossing a

lodgment of ice and snow, we descended by a sort of ravine to the

side of the principal mountain, which arose with a uniformly steep

ascent, similar to that we had already surmounted, to the very

summit. The ascent was now even more difficult than before; we could

make no considerable progress, but by the exertion of leaping and

running, so that we were obliged to rest after every fifty or sixty

paces. No solid rock was met with, and no earth or soil. The stones,

however, were larger, appeared more decayed, and were more uniformly

covered with black lichens; but several plants of the _Saxifraga_,

_Salix_, _Draba_, _Cochlearia_, and _Juncus genera_, which had been

met with here and there for the first two thousand feet of elevation,

began to disappear as we approached the summit. The invariably broken

state of the rocks appeared to have been the effect of frost. On

calcareous rocks, some of which are not impervious to moisture, the

effect is such as might be expected; but how frost can operate in

this way on quartz is not so easily understood.

As we completed the arduous ascent, the sun had just reached the

meridian below the Pole, and still shed his reviving rays of

unimpaired brilliancy on a small surface of snow, which capped the

mountain summit. A thermometer, placed among stones in the shade

of the brow of the hill, indicated a temperature as high as 37°.

At the top of the first hill, the temperature was 42°; and at the

foot, on the plain, 44° to 46°; so that, at the very peak of the

mountain, estimated at three thousand feet elevation, the power of

the sun at midnight produced a temperature several degrees above the

freezing point, and occasioned the discharge of streams of water from

the snow-capped summit. In Spitzbergen, the frost relaxes in the

months of July and August, and the thawing temperature prevails for

considerable intervals on the greatest heights that have been visited.

As the capacity of air for heat increases as its density decreases,

and that in such a degree that about every ninety yards of elevation

in the lower atmosphere produces a depression of one degree of

temperature of Fahrenheit, we find that the elevation of some of

the Alps, Pyrenees, and mountains of Nepaul in the temperate zone,

is such, that their summits are above the level where a temperature

of thawing can at any time prevail; and though, by the application

of this principle to the mountains of Spitzbergen, we find that

a thawing temperature may be occasionally expected, yet we do

not see how the prevalence of a thaw should be so continual as to

disperse the winter’s coat of snow, where the mean temperature of

the hottest month in the year must, on a mountain fifteen hundred

feet elevation or upward, probably be below the freezing point.

Perhaps the difficulty is to be thus resolved. The weather, in the

months of June, July, and August, is much clearer at Spitzbergen than

it is near the neighbouring ice, where most of my observations on

temperature were made, and as such the temperature of these months

on shore must be warmer than at sea, and so much higher indeed as is

requisite for occasioning the dissolution of snow even on the tops of

the mountains.

The highest temperature I ever observed in Spitzbergen was 48°; but

in the summer of 1773, when captain Phipps visited Spitzbergen,

a temperature of 58½° once occurred. Supposing this to be the

greatest, degree of height which takes place, it will require an

elevation of 7,791 feet for reducing that temperature to the freezing

point, and hence we may reckon this to be about the altitude of the

upper line of congelation, where frost perpetually prevails.

The prospect from the mountain which we ascended was most extensive

and grand. A fine sheltered bay was seen on the east of us, an arm

of the same on the north-east, and the sea, whose glassy surface was

unruffled by the breeze, formed an immense expanse on the west;

the icebergs, rearing their proud crests almost to the tops of the

mountains between which they were lodged, and defying the power of

the solar beams, were scattered in various directions about the

sea-coast, and in the adjoining bays. Beds of snow and ice, filling

extensive hollows, and giving an enamelled coat to adjoining valleys,

one of which, commencing at the foot of the mountain where we stood,

extended in a continued line across the north, as far as the eye

could reach; mountain rising above mountain, until by distance they

dwindled into insignificance; the whole contrasted by a cloudless

canopy of deepest azure, and enlightened by the rays of a blazing

sun, and the effect aided by a feeling of danger, seated as we

were on the pinnacle of a rock, almost surrounded by tremendous

precipices; all united to constitute a picture singularly sublime.

A gentle breeze of wind, that prevailed on the summit, much refreshed

us, and strengthened us for the descent, which, though we had

regarded it with indifference, we found really a very hazardous, and,

in some instances, a painful undertaking. On the flat of land next

the sea, we met with the horns of reindeer, many skulls and other

bones of sea-horses, whales, narwhales, foxes, and seals, and some

human skeletons, laid in chest-like coffins, exposed naked on the

strand. Two Russian lodges formed of logs of pine, with a third in

ruins, were also seen; the former, from a quantity of fresh chips

about them, and other appearances, gave evidence of having been

recently inhabited. These huts were built upon a ridge of shingle,

adjoining the sea. Among the shingle on the beach were numbers of

nests, containing the eggs of terns, ducks, and burgomasters, and in

some of them were young birds. One of the latter, which we took on

board, was very lively, and grew rapidly, but having taken a fancy to

a cake of white lead, with which the surgeon was finishing a drawing,

he was poisoned. The only insect I saw was a small green fly, which

swarmed upon the shingle about the beach. The sea along the coast

teemed with a species of _helix_, with the _clio borealis_, and

with small shrimps. No animal of the class _Vermes_, and no living

quadruped, was observed. Drift-wood was in some abundance, and, owing

to the prevalence of a strong west wind, the shore was covered in

many places with deep beds of sea-weed.

Of all the objects, however, that we met with in the course of our

research, none excited so much interest as the carcase of a dead

whale, found stranded on the beach, which, though much swollen,

and not a little putrid, fixed our attention, and diverted us from

objects of mere curiosity. It proved a prize to us of the value of

about £400, but was not secured without much labour. From a harpoon

found in its body, it appeared to have been struck by some of the

fishers on the Elbe, and having escaped from them, it had probably

stranded itself where we found it.

The climate of Spitzbergen is no doubt more disagreeable to human

feeling than that of any other country yet discovered. Extending

to within ten degrees of the Pole, it is generally intensely cold,

and even in the three warmest months, the temperature not averaging

more than 34½°, it is then subject to a cold of three, four,

or more degrees below the freezing point. It has the advantage,

however, of being visited by the sun for an uninterrupted period

of four months in each year, thus having a summer’s day—if so

long an interval between the rising and setting of the sun may be

so denominated—consisting of one-third part of the year. But its

winter is proportionably desolate; the sun, in the northern parts

of the country, remaining perpetually below the horizon from about

the 22nd of October to about the 22nd of February. This great

winter night, though sufficiently dreary, is by no means so dark as

might be expected, God having, by wise and merciful arrangements,

distributed, with some approach to equality, the blessings of his

providence. The sun, even during its greatest south declination,

approaches within 13½° of the horizon, and affords a faint twilight

for about one-fourth part of every twenty-four hours. Added to

this twilight, the aurora borealis, which sometimes exhibits a

brilliancy approaching a blaze of fire—the stars, which shine with

an uncommon degree of brightness—and the moon, which, in north

declination, appears for twelve or fourteen days together without

setting—altogether have an effect, which, when heightened by the

reflection of a constant surface of snow, generally give sufficient

light for going abroad; but, with the light afforded by the heavens,

when the moon is below the horizon, it is seldom possible to read.

The first human beings who are known to have passed the winter

in Spitzbergen, were two parties of seamen, belonging to English

whalers, who were left on shore by accident, on two different

occasions; the first party, consisting of nine persons, all perished;

but the latter, composed of eight individuals, survived the rigours

of the winter of 1630-1, and were all rescued. In the year 1633,

seven volunteers, belonging to the Dutch fleet, were induced, by

certain emoluments, to attempt the same enterprise, and succeeded

in passing the winter without sustaining any injury; but, on the

same hazardous experiment being tried by seven other persons the

following winter, they all fell a sacrifice to the ravages of the

scurvy. Some Russians seem to have been the next to attempt this

adventurous exploit, who, from being inured to a winter little less

severe at home, were enabled to accomplish it with more safety.

Four men, who landed on an island on the east side of Spitzbergen,

in the year 1743, and were deprived of the means of getting away

by an unexpected calamity having overtaken the vessel to which they

belonged, remained there some years. Being exposed to uncommon

privations, they were led by their necessities to adopt some most

ingenious devices for providing themselves with food and raiment in

their long and severe banishment. One of their number died; but the

others were relieved, after a stay of three years and six months, by

a vessel providentially driven on the coast, and restored to their

friends, enriched with skins and other produce of the country in

which they had been exiled.

In modern times, people of the same nation have been in the habit of

submitting to a voluntary transportation, with the object of making

some considerable advantage by the opportunities which such a measure

affords them of hunting and fishing. These persons were formerly

employed in the service of the “White Sea Fishing Company;” but this

company being now no longer in existence, the trade is conducted by

private adventurers. They now proceed from Megen, Archangel, Onega,

Rala, and other places bordering the White Sea, in vessels of sixty

to one hundred and sixty tons, some intended for the summer fishing,

and others for the winter. The former put to sea in the beginning

of June, and sometimes return in September; the latter sail about a

month later, and wintering in the most secure coves of Devil Bay,

Bell Sound, Horn Sound, Cross Bay, Magdalen Bay, Love Bay, and

others, return home in the months of August or September of the

following year. The fishermen reside on shore during the winter, in

huts of the same kind as those used by the peasants in Russia, which,

being taken out with them in pieces, are constructed with but little

trouble, in the most convenient situations. They build their stoves

with bricks, or with clay, found in the country. Their largest hut,

which is erected near the place where their vessels or boats are

laid up, is from twenty to twenty-five feet square, and is used as a

station and magazine; but the huts used by the men who go in quest of

skins, which are erected along shore, are only seven or eight feet

square. The smaller huts are usually occupied by two or three men,

who take care to provide themselves from the store with the necessary

provisions for serving them the whole winter.

I have visited several of these huts, some constructed of logs,

others of deals, two inches in thickness. During the stay of the

hunters, they employ themselves in killing seals, sea-horses, etc.,

in the water; and bears, foxes, deer, or whatever else they meet

with, on land. They are furnished with provisions for eighteen months

by their employers, consisting of rye-flour for bread, oatmeal,

barley-meal, peas, salt beef, salt cod, and salt halibut, together

with curdled milk, honey, and linseed oil; besides which, they

procure for themselves _lion_-deer in winter, and birds in summer.

Their drink chiefly consists of a liquor called _nuas_, made from

rye-flour and water; malt or spirituous liquors being entirely

forbidden, to prevent drunkenness, as these persons, when they

were allowed it, drank so immoderately, that their work was often

altogether neglected. For general purposes, they use spring water

when it is to be had, or, in lieu of it, take water from lakes;

but, when neither can be got, they use melted snow. Their fuel, for

the most part, is brought with them from Russia, and drift-wood is

used for the same purpose. The hunters defend themselves from the

rigour of the frost by a covering made of skin, over which they wear

a garment called _kushy_, made of the skin of rein-deer, with boots

of the same. A warm cap, called a _trucchy_, defends the whole head

and neck, and part of the face; and gloves of sheep-skin, the hands.

They seldom travel far in winter, but the short excursions they have

occasion to make they perform on foot, on snow-skates, and draw their

food after them on hand-sledges, but such as have dogs employ them in

this service. Their huts, in stormy weather, are often buried in the

snow, and in such cases they are obliged to make their way through

the chimney to get out. As an anti-scorbutic, they make use of a herb

produced in the country, a stock of which they generally provide

themselves with on the approach of winter, but sometimes they are

under the necessity of digging through the snow to obtain it. They

either eat it without any preparation, or drink the liquor prepared

from it by infusion in water. For the same purpose, they use a kind

of raspberry, and a decoction of fir-tops.

Spitzbergen does not afford many vegetables. It may be remarked,

that vegetation goes on uncommonly quick in this country. Most of

the plants spring up, flower, and afford seed in the course of a

month or six weeks. They are chiefly of a dwarfish size. Some of the

flowers are really pretty, but exhibit few colours, excepting yellow,

white, and purple. The only plant I met with partaking of the nature

of a tree, (a _salix_, allied to _S. herbacea_,) grows but to the

height of three or four inches. Although Spitzbergen is probably

rich in minerals, yet so partial has been the examination of it that

nothing of any value, excepting marble and coal, has yet been met

with. The remarks made concerning the appearances and productions of

Spitzbergen apply in general to the islands adjacent. The principal

of these are Moffen Island, Low Island, Hope Island, and Cherie

Island. The last abounds in sea-horses, bears, foxes, and sea-fowl.

Lead ore, in veins at the surface, has been found here, and specimens

of virgin silver.

Between the latitudes of 70° 49′ and 71° 8′ 20″ north, and between

the longitudes 7° 26′ and 8° 44′, lies the island of Jan Mayen, said

to have been first seen by a Dutch navigator of this name in the year

1611. The west side, affording the greatest number of anchorages,

having the best convenience for landing, and being better sheltered

from the most frequent storms, was selected by the Dutch for their

_boiling_ stations. I was successful, in my passage homeward, in

the year 1817, in effecting a landing. On approaching, the first

object which strikes attention is the peak of Beerenberg, which I

subsequently saw at a distance (by observation) of ninety-five to a

hundred miles. It rears its icy summit to an elevation of 6,780 feet

above the level of the sea. After leaving the sea-shore, fragments

of lava were seen at every step, and numerous undoubted marks of

recent volcanic action. On reaching a summit, estimated at 1,500 feet

above the sea, we beheld a beautiful crater, forming a basin of 500

or 600 feet in depth, and 600 or 700 yards in diameter. The bottom

of the crater was filled with alluvial matter to such a height that

it presented a horizontal flat of an elliptical form, measuring 400

feet by 240. In the spring of the following year, some volcano was, I

believe, in action in this neighbourhood, as I observed considerable

jets of smoke discharged from the earth at intervals of every three

or four minutes.

The Arctic regions and the northern whale-fishery · 第 2 / 6 章