[19] p. 10.—“As if America had emerged later from the chaotic watery covering.”
An acute enquirer into nature, Benjamin Smith Barton, said long since with great truth, (Fragments of the Natural History of Pennsylvania, P. i. p. 4), “I cannot but deem it a puerile supposition, unsupported by the evidence of nature, that a great part of America has probably later emerged from the bosom of the ocean than the other continents.” The same subject was touched on by myself in a memoir on the primitive nations of America (Neue Berlinische Monatschrift, Bd. xv. 1806, S. 190). “Writers generally and justly praised have repeated but too often that America is in every sense of the word a New Continent. Her luxuriance of vegetation, the abundant waters of her enormous rivers, the unrepose of her powerful volcanoes, all (say they) proclaim that the still trembling earth, from the face of which the waters have not yet dried off, is here nearer to the chaotic primordial state than in the Old Continent. Such ideas appeared to me, long before I commenced my travels, alike unphilosophical and contrary to generally acknowledged physical laws. Fantastic images of terrestrial youth, and unrepose associated on the one hand,—and on the other, those of increasing dryness, and inertia in maturer age,—could only have presented themselves to minds more inclined to draw ingenious or striking contrasts between the two hemispheres, than to strive to comprehend, in one general view, the construction of the entire globe. Are we to regard the south of Italy as more modern than its northern portions, because the former is almost incessantly disquieted by earthquakes and volcanic eruptions? Besides, what small phenomena are the volcanoes and earthquakes of the present day, in comparison with those revolutions of nature which the geologist must suppose to have accompanied, in the chaotic state of the earth, the elevation, solidification, disruptions, and cleavings of the mountain masses? Diversity of causes must produce diversity in the operations of natural forces, in countries remote as well as near. Perhaps the volcanoes of the new continent, (of which I still reckon above 28 in a state of activity), have only continued to burn longer than others, because the lofty mountain ridges, on which they have broken forth in rows or series above long subterranean fissures, are nearer to the sea, and because this proximity seems, with a few exceptions, to affect the energy of the subterranean fires in some way not yet sufficiently explained. Besides, both earthquakes and fire-emitting mountains have periods of activity alternating with periods of repose. At the present moment,” (I wrote thus 42 years ago!) “physical disquiet and political calm reign in the New Continent, while in the Old the desolating strife of nations disturbs the enjoyment of the repose of nature. Perhaps a time is coming when, in this singular contrast between physical and moral forces, the two sides of the Atlantic will change parts. Volcanoes are quiescent for centuries before they burst forth anew; and the idea that in the so-called older countries, a certain peace must prevail in nature, is founded on a mere play of the imagination. There exists no reason for assuming one entire side of our planet to be older or newer than the other. Islands are indeed raised from the bed of the ocean by volcanic action, and gradually heightened by coral animals, as the Azores and many low flat islands of the Pacific; and these may indeed be said to be newer than many Plutonic formations of the European central chain. A small district of the earth, surrounded, like Bohemia and Kashmeer, (and like many of the vallies in the Moon), by annular mountains, may, by partial inundations, be long covered with water; and after the flowing off of this lake or inland sea, the ground on which vegetation begins gradually to establish itself might be said, figuratively, to be of recent origin. Islands have become connected with each other by the elevation of fresh masses of land; and parts of the previously dry land have been submerged by the subsidence of the oscillating ground; but submersions so general as to embrace a hemisphere, can, from hydrostatic laws, only be imagined as extending at the same time over all parts of the earth. The sea cannot permanently overflow the boundless plains of the Orinoco and the Amazons, without also overwhelming the plains adjoining the Baltic. The sequence and identity of the sedimentary strata, and of the organic remains of plants and animals belonging to the ancient world enclosed in those strata, shew that several great depositions have taken place almost simultaneously over the entire globe.” (For the fossil vegetable remains in the coal formation in North America and in Europe, compare Adolph Brongniart, Prodrome d’une Hist. des Végétaux Fossiles, p. 179; and Charles Lyell’s Travels in North America, vol. ii. p. 20).
[20] p. 10.—“The Southern Hemisphere is cooler and moister than our Northern half of the globe.”
Chili, Buenos Ayres, and the southern parts of Brazil and Peru, have all, as a result of the narrowness of the continent of South America as it tapers towards the south, a true “insular climate;” or a climate of cool summers and mild winters. As far as the 48th or 50th parallel of latitude this character of the Southern Hemisphere may be regarded as an advantage, but farther on towards the Antarctic Pole, South America gradually becomes an inhospitable wilderness. The difference of latitude of the southern terminating points of Australia, (including Van Diemen Island), of Africa, and of America,—gives to each of these continents a peculiar character. The Straits of Magellan are between the 53d and 54th degrees of latitude, and yet in December and January, when the sun is 18 hours above the horizon, the temperature sinks to 4° Reaumur, or 41° Fahrenheit. Snow falls almost daily, and the highest atmospheric temperature observed by Churruca (1788) in December, (the summer of those regions), was not above 9° R., or 52°.2 Fahr. The Cabo Pilar, whose towering rock, though only 218 toises, or 1394 English feet high, may be regarded as the southern termination of the chain of the Andes, is almost in the same latitude as Berlin. (Relacion del Viage al Estrecho de Magallanes, apendice, 1793, p. 76.)
While in the Northern Hemisphere all the continents attain a sort of mean limit towards the Pole, coinciding pretty regularly with the parallel of 70° the terminating points in the Southern Hemisphere,—of America, in the deeply indented and intersected Tierra del Fuego,—of Australia,—and of Africa,—are respectively 34°, 46½°, and 56° distant from the south pole. The temperature of the very unequal extents of ocean, which divide these southern points from the icy pole, contributes very materially to modify their climates. The areas of dry land in the Northern and Southern Hemispheres are to each other in the proportion of 3 to 1. But this inferiority in extent of continental masses in the Southern Hemisphere, as compared with the Northern, belongs much more to the temperate than to the torrid zone. In the temperate zones of the Northern and Southern Hemispheres, the ratio is as 13 to 1; in the torrid zones as 5 to 4. The great inequality in the distribution of the dry land exercises a very sensible influence on the strength of the ascending aerial current which turns towards the southern pole, and on the temperature of the Southern Hemisphere. Some of the noblest forms of tropical vegetation, for example the tree-ferns, advance south of the equator as far as the parallels of 46°, and of even 53°; whereas north of the equator they are not found beyond the tropic of Cancer. (Robert Brown, Appendix to Flinders’ Voyage, p. 575 and 584; Humboldt, de distributione geographica Plantarum, p. 81–85.) Tree-ferns thrive extremely well at Hobart Town in Van Diemen Island, (lat. 42° 53′), where the mean annual temperature is 9° Reaumur, or 52°.2 Fahrenheit, and is therefore 1°.6 Reaumur, or 3°.6 Fahrenheit, less than that of Toulon. Rome is almost a degree of latitude farther from the equator than Hobart Town, and has an annual temperature of 12°.3 R., or 59°.8 Fahr.;—a winter temperature of 6°.5 R., or 46°.4 Fahr.,—and a summer temperature of 24° R., or 86° Fahr.; these three values being in Hobart Town 8°.9, 4°.5, and 13°.8 R., or 52°.0, 42°.2, and 63°.0 Fahr. In Dusky Bay, New Zealand, tree-ferns grow in S. lat. 46° 8′, and in the Auckland and Campbell Islands, even in 53° S. lat. (Jos. Hooker, Flora Antarctica, 1844, p. 107.)
In the Archipelago of Tierra del Fuego,—where, in the same latitude as Dublin, the mean winter temperature is 0°.4 Reaumur, (33° Fah.) and the mean summer temperature only 8° R., or 50° Fahr.,—Captain King found the “vegetation thriving most luxuriantly in large woody-stemmed trees of Fuchsia and Veronica”; while this vigour of vegetation, which, especially on the western coast of America in 38° and 40° of south latitude, is so picturesquely described by Charles Darwin, suddenly disappears south of Cape Horn, on the rocks of the Southern Orkney and Shetland Islands, and of the Sandwich Archipelago. These Islands, but scantily covered with grass, moss, and lichens, “Terres de Désolation,” as the French navigators call them, are still far north of the Antarctic Circle; whereas in the Northern Hemisphere in 70° of latitude, at the extremity of Scandinavia, fir-trees attain a height of between 60 and 70 English feet. (Compare Darwin in the “Journal of Researches,” 1845, p. 244, with King in vol. i. of the Narrative of the Voyages of the Adventure and Beagle, p. 577.) If we compare Tierra del Fuego, and particularly Port Famine in the Straits of Magellan in lat. 53° 38′, with Berlin, which is one degree nearer the equator, we find for
| Berlin | 6°.8, | -0°.5 | R., | 47°.2, | 30°.8 | Fahr.; | and for |
| 13°.9 | 63°.2 | ||||||
| Port Famine | 4°.7, | 1°.2 | R., | 42°.6, | 34°.8 | Fahr. | |
| 8°.0 | 50°.0 |
I subjoin in one view the few well-assured temperature data which we at present possess, for the lands of the temperate zone in the Southern Hemisphere, and which may be compared with the temperatures of the Northern Hemisphere, in most parts of which the distribution into summer heat and winter cold is so different and so much less equable. I employ the convenient method of notation before used and explained in pages 129–131.
| Place. | South Latitude. | Mean Annual, Winter, and Summer Temperature. | |||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Reaumur. | Fahrenheit. | ||||
| Sidney and Paramatta (New Holland.) | 33°.50′ | 14°.5 | 10°.0 | 64°.5 | 54°.5 |
| —— | —— | ||||
| 20°.2 | 77°.5 | ||||
| Cape Town (Africa.) | 33°.55′ | 15°.0 | 11°.8 | 65°.7 | 58°.5 |
| —— | —— | ||||
| 18°.3 | 73°.3 | ||||
| Buenos Ayres | 34°.17′ | 13°.5 | 9°.1 | 62°.4 | 52°.5 |
| —— | —— | ||||
| 18°.2 | 73°.0 | ||||
| Monte Video | 34°.54′ | 15°.5 | 11°.3 | 66°.8 | 57°.3 |
| ——? | —— | ||||
| 20°.2 | 77°.5 | ||||
| Hobart Town (Van Diemen Island.) | 42°.45′ | 9°.1 | 4°.5 | 52°.5 | 42°.2 |
| —— | —— | ||||
| 13°.8 | 63°.0 | ||||
| Port Famine (Straits of Magellan.) | 53°.38′ | 4°.7 | 1°.2 | 42°.6 | 34°.8 |
| —— | —— | ||||
| 8°.0 | 50°.0 | ||||
[21] p. 11.—“A connected Sea of Sand.”
As the Heaths formed of socially growing Ericeæ, which stretch from the mouth of the Scheldt to that of the Elbe and from the point of Jutland to the Harz, may be regarded as one connected tract of vegetation,—so the seas of sand may be traced through Africa and Asia, from Cape Blanco to beyond the Indus, or through an extent of 5600 geographical miles. Herodotus’s Sandy Region interrupted by Oases, called by the Arabs the Desert of Sahara, traverses almost the whole of Africa, which it intersects like a dried-up arm of the sea. The valley of the Nile is the eastern limit of the Lybian Desert. Beyond the Isthmus of Suez, beyond the porphyritic, syenitic, and basaltic rocks of Sinai, begins the Desert mountain plateau of Nedjid, which occupies the whole of the interior of the Arabian Peninsula, and is bounded to the west and south by the fertile and happier coast lands of Hedjaz and Hadhramaut. The Euphrates bounds the Arabian and Syrian Deserts towards the east. Immense seas of sand, (bejaban), cross Persia from the Caspian to the Indian Sea. Among them are the salt and soda Deserts of Kerman, Seistan, Beloochistan, and Mekran. The latter is separated from the Desert of Moultan by the Indus.
[22] p. 11.—“The western part of the Atlas.”
The question respecting the position of the ancient Atlas has been much discussed in modern times, but the oldest Phœnician legends have been confounded in this discussion with the later fables of the Greeks and the Romans. A man who combined deep philological with thorough mathematical and astronomical knowledge, Professor Ideler, (the father,) was the first person who explained and dispelled the confusion of ideas which had previously existed on this subject. I permit myself to introduce here the remarks that clear-sighted and highly-informed writer has communicated to me on this important subject.
“At a very early period of the world the Phœnicians ventured beyond the Straits of Gibraltar. They built Gades and Tartessus on the Spanish, and Lixus and several other towns on the Mauritanian coasts of the Atlantic. They sailed along those coasts northwards to the Cassiterides where they obtained tin, and to the Prussian coast from whence they brought amber; and southwards, past Madeira, to the Cape de Verde Islands. They visited, among other places, the Canaries, and were struck by the appearance of the lofty Peak of Teneriffe, enhanced by its rising immediately from the sea. Through the colonies which they sent to Greece, and especially through that which came under Cadmus to Bœotia, the notice of this mountain rising high above the region of clouds, and of the “Fortunate Islands,” adorned with fruits of every kind, and especially with the golden orange, spread into Greece. Here the tradition was propagated by the songs of the bards, and thus reached Homer. He speaks in the Odyssey (i. 52) of an “Atlas who knows all the depths of the sea, and who supports the great pillars which divide heaven and earth from each other.” He speaks, too, in the Iliad, of the Elysian fields, which he describes as a lovely land in the west. (Il. iv. 561.) Hesiod expresses himself in a similar manner respecting Atlas, who he makes a neighbour of the nymphs the daughters of Hesperus. (Theog. V. 517.) He calls the Elysian fields, which he places at the western limit of the earth, the islands of the Blest. (Op. et dies, v. 167.) Later poets have added further embellishments to these myths of Atlas, of the Hesperides, their golden apples, and the Islands of the Blest, assigned as the dwelling-place of the virtuous after death; and have combined with them the expeditions of the Tyrian god of trade, Melicertes (the Grecian Hercules).
“The Greeks only began at a very late date to rival the Phœnicians and Carthaginians in navigation. They visited the coasts of the Atlantic it is true, but never appear to have penetrated far into the ocean. I doubt whether they ever saw the Canaries and the Peak of Teneriffe. They believed that Atlas, which their poets and legends described as a very high mountain placed at the western limit of the earth, must be sought on the west coast of Africa. It was placed there also by their later geographers, Strabo, Ptolemy, and others. As there is not any single mountain distinguished by its elevation in north-western Africa, the true situation of Mount Atlas has been a subject of perplexity; and it has been sought, sometimes on the coast, sometimes in the interior, sometimes near the Mediterranean, and sometimes further towards the south. It became the custom (in the first century of our era, when the Roman arms penetrated into the interior of Mauritania and Numidia,) to give the name of Atlas to the African chain of mountains which runs from west to east almost parallel with the coast of the Mediterranean. Pliny and Solinus were, however, very sensible that the descriptions of Mount Atlas given by the Greek and Roman poets were not applicable to this long mountain chain; and they therefore thought it necessary to transfer the Atlas, of which they gave a picturesque description in accordance with the poetic legends, to the terra incognita of Central Africa. According to what has been said, the Atlas of Homer and Hesiod can only be the Peak of Teneriffe; and the Atlas of the Greek and Roman geographers must be in Northern Africa.”
I will only add the following remarks to this instructive discussion by Professor Ideler. According to Pliny and Solinus, Atlas rises from a sandy plain (e medio arenarum); and elephants (which certainly were never known in Teneriffe) feed on its declivity. What we now term Atlas is a long ridge. How came the Romans to recognise in this long ridge the isolated conical mountain of Herodotus? May not the reason be found in the optical delusion by which every mountain chain seen in profile, in the prolongation of its direction, has the appearance of a narrow cone? I have often seen in this manner, from the sea, the ends of long chains or ridges, which might be taken for isolated mountains. According to Höst the Atlas is covered near Morocco with perpetual snow, which implies an elevation of above 1800 toises, or 11510 English feet. It is also remarkable that, according to Pliny, the “Barbarians,” i. e. the ancient Mauritanians, called the Atlas “Dyris.” The chain of the Atlas is still called by the Arabs Daran, a word which has almost the same consonants as Dyris. Hornius, on the other hand (de Originibus Americanorum, p. 195), thinks that he recognises the word Dyris in the Guanche name of the Peak of Teneriffe, Aya-Dyrma. On the connection between purely mythical ideas and geographical traditions, and on the way in which the Titan Atlas gave occasion to the image of a mountain supporting the heavens, beyond the Pillars of Hercules, see Letronne’s “Essai sur les Idées cosmographiques qui se rattachent au nom d’Atlas,” in Férussac’s Bulletin universel des Sciences, Mars 1831, p. 10.
Considering that our present (it is true, very limited) geological knowledge of the mountainous parts of North Africa does not make us acquainted with any trace of volcanic eruptions within historic times, it is very remarkable to find among the ancients so many indications of a belief in the existence of this class of phenomena, in the Western Atlas, and in the neighbouring west coast of the continent. The streams of fire, so often mentioned in Hanno’s ship-journal, may indeed have only been strips of burning grass, or signal fires kindled by the wild inhabitants of the coasts to give to each other notice of the danger threatened by the appearance of the hostile vessels. The lofty flame-enlightened summit of the “chariot of the gods” (θεῶν ὅχημα), may recall obscurely the Peak of Teneriffe; but farther on Hanno describes a singular conformation of ground. He finds in the Gulf near the Western Horn, a large island, and in it a salt lake which again contains a smaller island. South of the bay of the Gorilla Apes, the same conformation is repeated. Is this a description of coral productions, of “lagoon islands, (Atolls)” or volcanic “crater lakes” in the middle of which a cone has been upheaved? The Triton lake was not in the neighbourhood of the lesser Syrtis, but near the Atlantic coast. (Asie Cent. T. i. p. 179.) The lake disappeared in consequence of earthquakes which were accompanied by great outbursts of fire. Diodorus (Lib. iii. 53, 55) says expressly, πυρὸς ἐκφυσήματα μεγάλα. But the most wonderful conformation is ascribed to the “hollow Atlas” in a passage hitherto little noticed, occurring in one of the philosophic Dialexes of Maximus Tyrius. This Platonic philosopher lived in Rome, under Commodus. The situation of his Atlas is “on the continent, where the Western Lybians inhabit a projecting peninsula. The mountain has in it towards the sea a semicircular deep abyss.” The precipices are so steep that they cannot be descended; the abyss below is filled with trees, and “one looks down upon their summits, and on the fruits which they bear, as if one was looking into a well.” (Maximus Tyrius, viii., 7, ed. Markland.) The description is so graphic and so individually marked, that it doubtless conveys the recollections impressed by a real prospect.
[23] p. 11.—“The Mountains of the Moon, Djebel al Komr.”
The Mountains of the Moon of Ptolemy (Lib. iv. cap. 9,) (σελήνης ὅρος) form on our older maps an immense uninterrupted mountain zone, traversing Africa from east to west. The existence of these mountains appears certain; but their extent, their distance from the Equator, and their general direction, are all unsolved problems. I have already alluded in another work, (Cosmos, vol. ii. p. 191, and note 297, Engl. ed.) to the manner in which a closer acquaintance with Indian languages, and with the ancient Persian idiom, the Zend, teaches us that part of the geographical nomenclature of Ptolemy forms an historic monument of the commercial connection of the west with the most distant regions of Southern Asia and Eastern Africa. The same direction of ideas shews itself in a question very recently brought forward. It is asked, whether the great geographer and astronomer of Pelusium meant in the name of “Mountains of the Moon,” as in that of the “Island of Barley” (Jabadiu, Java), merely to give the Greek translation of a native name;—whether (as is most probable) El Istachri, Edrisi, Ibn-al-Vardi, and other early Arabian geographers, only transferred the nomenclature of Ptolemy into their own language;—or whether they were misled by similarity in the sound of the words and the manner of writing. In the notes to the translation of Abd-Allatif’s celebrated description of Egypt, my great instructor, Silvestre de Sacy, (éd. de 1810, p. 7 and 353,) says expressly: “On traduit ordinairement le nom de ces montagnes que Léon Africain regarde comme les sources du Nil, par montagnes de la lune, et j’ai suivi cet usage. Je ne sais si les Arabes ont pris originairement cette dénomination de Ptolémée. On peut croire qu’ils entendent effectivement aujourd’hui le mot قمر dans le sens de la lune en le prononçant ‘Kamar’; je ne crois pas cependant que ç’ait été l’opinion des anciens écrivains arabes qui prononcent, comme le prouve Makrizi, Komr. Aboulféda rejette positivement l’opinion de ceux qui prononcent kamar, et qui dérivent ce nom de celui de la lune. Comme le mot komr, considéré comme pluriel de اقمر, signifie un objet d’une couleur verdâtre ou d’un blanc sale, suivant l’auteur du Kamous, il paroit que quelques écrivains ont cru que cette montagne tiroit son nom de sa couleur.”
The learned Reinaud, in his recent excellent translation of Abulfeda (T. ii., P. i., p. 81–82), considers it probable that the Ptolemaic interpretation of the name, by “Mountains of the Moon” (ὅρη σεληναῖα), was that originally adopted by the Arabian writers. He remarks that in the Moschtarek of Yakut, and in Ibn-Said, the mountains are written al-Komr, and that Yakut writes in the same way the name of the island of Zendj (Zanguebar). The Abyssinian traveller Beke, in his learned critical memoir on the Nile and its tributaries (Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London, vol. xvii. 1847, p. 74–76), seeks to prove that Ptolemy had merely formed his σελήνης ὅρος from a native name, for which he was indebted to intelligence received through the medium of the extensive commercial intercourse which prevailed. He says, “Ptolemy knew that the Nile rises in the mountainous country of Moezi; and in the languages which extend over a great portion of South Africa (for example, in the languages of Congo, Monjou, and Mozambique), the word Moezi signifies the moon. A great south-western country was called Mono-Muezi, or Mani-Moezi, i. e. the land of the king of Moezi (of the king of the Moon country), for in the same family of languages in which Moezi or Muezi signifies the Moon, Mono or Mani signifies a king. Alvarez, in the Viaggio nella Ethiopia (Ramusio, vol. i, p. 249,) speaks of the ‘regne di Manicongo,’ the kingdom of the king of Congo.” Beke’s opponent, Ayrton, seeks the origin of the White Nile (Bahr el Abiad), not as do Arnaud, Werne, and Beke, near the equator, or even south of it (and in 29° E. long. from Paris, or 31° 22′ from Greenwich), but with Antoine d’Abbadie far to the north-east, in the Godjeb and Gibbe of Eneara (Iniara); therefore in the high mountains of Habesch, in 7° 20′ N. latitude, and 33° E. long. from Paris, or 35° 22′ from Greenwich. He conjectures that the Arabs, from a similarity of sound, may have interpreted the native name Gamaro belonging to the Abyssinian mountains, in the south-west of Gaka in which the Godjeb (or White Nile?) has its source, to mean Moon Mountains (Djebel al-Kamar); so that Ptolemy himself, familiar with the intercourse between Abyssinia and the Indian Ocean, may have taken the Semitic version, given by early Arab immigrants. (Compare Ayrton in the Journal of the Royal Geogr. Soc. vol. xviii. 1848, p. 53, 55, and 59–63, with Fred. Werne’s instructive expedition for the discovery of the sources of the Nile, Exped. zur Entd. der Nil-Quellen, 1848, S. 534–536.)
The lively interest which has again been excited in England for the discovery of the most southern sources of the Nile, induced the above-named Abyssinian traveller, Charles Beke, at the recent meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, held at Swansea, August 1848, to develop more in detail his ideas respecting the connection between the Mountains of the Moon and the Mountains of Habesch. He says:—“The Abyssinian elevated plain, generally above 8000 feet high, extends towards the south to nearly 9° or 10° N. latitude. The eastern declivity of the highlands has to the inhabitants of the coast the appearance of a mountain chain. The plateau at its southern extremity passes into the Mountains of the Moon, which run, not east and west, but parallel to the coast, or from NNE. to SSW.; extending from 10° N. to 5° S. latitude. The sources of the White Nile are situated in the Mono-Moezi country, probably in 2½° S., not far from where the river Sabaki, on the eastern side of the Mountains of the Moon, falls into the Indian Ocean near Melindeh, north of Mombaza. Last autumn (1847) the two Abyssinian missionaries Rebmann and Krapf were still on the coast of Mombaza. They have established in the vicinity, among the Wakamba tribe, a missionary station called Rabbay Empie, which promises to be very useful also for geographical discovery. Families belonging to the Wakamba tribe have advanced to the west five or six hundred miles into the interior of the country, as far as the upper course of the river Lusidji, the great lake Nyassi or Zambeze (5° S. lat.?), and the sources of the Nile which are not far distant. An expedition to these sources, which Herr Friedrich Bialloblotzky, of Hanover, is preparing to undertake, (by the advice of Beke), is to set out from Mombaza. The Nile coming from the west referred to by the ancients is probably the Bahr-el-Ghazal, or Keilah, which falls into the Nile in 9° N. lat., above the mouth of the Godjeb or Sobat.”
Russegger’s scientific expedition,—which by Mehemet Ali’s desire was sent to the gold-washings of Fazokl on the Blue (Green) Nile, Bahr-el-Azrek, in 1837 and 1838,—had made the existence of the “Mountains of the Moon” appear very doubtful. The Blue Nile, the Astapus of Ptolemy, issuing from the lake of Coloe (now called lake Tzana) winds from amongst the colossal Abyssinian mountains; but towards the south-west an extensive low tract of country appears. The three exploring expeditions sent by the Egyptian government, (one in November 1839 from Chartum to the confluence of the Blue and the White Nile, under the command of Selim Bimbashi; another in the autumn of 1840, which was accompanied by the French engineers Arnaud, Sabatier, and Thibaud; and a third in August 1841), first unveiled the high mountains which, between the parallels of 6°-4°, and probably still farther to the south, run at first from west to east, and afterwards from north-west to south-east, and approach the left bank of the Bahr-el-Abiad. The second of Mehemet Ali’s expeditions first saw the mountain chain, according to Werne’s account, in lat. 11⅓° where Gebel Abul and Gebel Kutak rise to 3400 (3623 Eng.) feet. The high land continued and approached nearer to the river more to the south, between 4¾° lat., to the parallel of the island of Tschenker in 4° 4′, where the expedition of Commander Selim and Feizulla Effendi terminated. The shallow river makes its way between rocks, and detached mountains rise again in the country of Bari to 3000 (3197 Eng.) feet. These probably belong to the Mountains of the Moon as represented in our most recent maps, although they are not indeed mountains covered with perpetual snow such as Ptolemy had described (lib. iv. cap. 9). The limit of perpetual snow in these latitudes would not certainly be found below an elevation of 14500 (15450 Eng.) feet. Perhaps Ptolemy transferred to the country of the sources of the White Nile the knowledge which he may have had of the high mountains of Habesch, which are nearer to Upper Egypt and to the Red Sea. In Godiam, Kaffa, Miecha, and Sami, the Abyssinian mountains rise to 10000 and 14000 (10657 and 14920 Eng.) feet, according to exact measurements; not according to Bruce, who gives the elevation of Chartum exceedingly wide of the truth, i. e., 4730 (5041 Eng.) feet, instead of 1430 (1524 Eng.) feet! Rüppell, one of the most accurate observers of the present day, found Abba Jaret, in 13° 10′ of latitude, only 66 (70 Eng.) feet lower than Mont Blanc. (Compare Rüppell, Reise in Abyssinien, Bd. i. S. 414, and Bd. ii. S. 443). Rüppell found, adjoining the Buahat, an elevated plain 13080 (13939 Eng.) feet above the Red Sea, barely covered with a small quantity of fresh fallen snow (Humboldt, Asie Centrale, T. iii. p. 272). The celebrated inscription of Adulis, which Niebuhr considers to be somewhat later than Juba and than Augustus, also speaks of Abyssinian snow “that reaches to the knees.” This is, I believe, the earliest mention in antiquity of snow within the tropics (Asie Centrale, T. iii. p. 235); as the Paropanisus is 12° of latitude north of the northern limit of the torrid zone.
Zimmermann’s map of the countries about the Upper Nile shews the dividing line which determines the basin of the Great River, and separates it on the south-east from the domain of the rivers which flow into the Indian Ocean;—that is to say, from the Doara, which enters the sea north of Magadoxo; from the Teb, which has its embouchure on the Amber coast, near Ogda; and from the Goschop, whose abundant stream is formed by the confluence of the Gibu and the Zebi, and which he distinguishes from the Godjeb, rendered celebrated since 1839 by Antoine d’Abbadie, the missionary Krapf, and Beke. These results of the travels of Beke, Krapf, Isenberg, Russegger, Rüppell, Abbadie, and Werne, brought together and shewn in the most comprehensive and convenient manner by Zimmermann, were hailed by me on their appearance in 1843 with the most lively joy, as expressed in a letter to Carl Ritter. “If,” I wrote to him, “a life prolonged to an advanced period brings with it several inconveniences to the individual, and perhaps some even to those who live with him, there is a compensation in the delight of being able to compare older states of knowledge with that which now exists, and to see great advances in knowledge grow and develope themselves under our eyes in departments where all had long slumbered in inactivity, with the exception, perhaps, of attempts by hypercriticism to render previous acquisitions doubtful. This enjoyment has from time to time fallen to our share, yours and mine, in our geographical studies, and this particularly in reference to those very parts of the world which formerly could only be treated of with timid hesitating uncertainty. The conformation of a continent depends in its leading traits on several plastic relations which are usually among the latest to be discovered and unravelled. A new and excellent work of our friend Carl Zimmermann, on the upper country of the Nile and the eastern parts of central Africa, has again brought these considerations very vividly before me. His new map shews in the clearest manner to the eye, by means of a particular method of shading, what is still unknown, and what, by the courage and perseverance of travellers of all nations,—among whom our own countrymen happily hold an important place,—has been already disclosed to us. It is a valuable service, and one which opens the way for farther advances and more comprehensive inferences, when persons, thoroughly acquainted with the existing, often widely scattered, materials,—men who do not merely draw and compile, but compare, select, and, wherever it is possible, check and control the routes of travellers by astronomical determinations of position,—undertake to represent graphically the results of the elements of knowledge possessed at the time. Those who have themselves given to the world so much as you have done, have an especial right to expect much; since their combinations have largely augmented the number of connecting points; yet I believe that when you executed your great work on Africa in 1822 you could hardly have expected so many accessions as we have now received.” The knowledge acquired is, indeed, often only that of rivers, their direction, their branches, and the various synonyms by which they are called in dialects belonging to different families of languages; but rivers reveal to us by their course the form of the surface of the earth, and are at once the nourishers of vegetation, the channels of intercourse between men, and pregnant with unknown influences on the future.
The northerly course of the White Nile, and the south-easterly course of the great Goschop, would indicate that a swelling of the ground separates the domains or basins of these rivers. We know, indeed, but imperfectly, how such a swelling or elevation may be connected with the mountains of Habesch, and in what manner it may be continued southward beyond the equator. Probably, and this is also the opinion of my friend Carl Ritter, the Lupata mountains, which, according to the excellent Wilhelm Peters, extend to 26° S. latitude, are connected with the elevated parts of the Earth’s surface on the north side of the equator, (or with the Abyssinian mountains), by the mountains of the Moon. The word “Lupata,” we learn from the last-named African traveller, is used in the language of Tette as an adjective, meaning “closed.” The chain of mountains would thus be called the “closed” or “barred.” “The Lupata chain, of Portuguese writers,” says Peters, “is about 90 legoas or leagues from the mouth of the Zambeze, and is only about two thousand feet high. The direction of this mountain rampart is north and south, but with occasional bends alternately to the east and to the west. It is sometimes interrupted by plains. Along the whole of the Zanzibar coast, the traders into the interior speak of this long but not very elevated ridge, which extends from 6° to 26° S. latitude, as far as the Factory of Lourenzo-Marques, on the Rio de Espiritu Santo (in the Bay da Lagoa, or Delagoa Bay of the English). The farther the Lupata chain advances towards the south, the nearer it approaches the coast, from which it is only fifteen legoas distant at Lourenzo-Marques.”
[24] p. 12.—“Caused by the great revolving current.”
In the northern part of the Atlantic, between Europe, North Africa, and the New Continent, the waters of the ocean are driven round in a true revolving current, or circle. This general current,—which, from its cause, might be called a “Rotation Current,”—moves between the tropics, as is well known, with the trade wind, from east to west. It accelerates the passage of ships sailing from the Canaries to South America, and makes it almost impossible to sail “up stream,” or in a direct line from Cartagena de Indias to Cumana. This set to the west, attributed to the trade winds, receives, however, in the Caribbean Sea, the accession of a much stronger movement, originating in a very remote cause, which was discovered as early as 1560 by Sir Humphrey Gilbert, (Hakluyt, Voyages, vol. iii. p. 14), and developed with greater certainty by Rennell in 1832. The Mosambique current, flowing from north to south between Madagascar and the east coast of Africa, sets on the Lagullas Bank, turns on the north side of it round the south point of Africa, and advances with much force up the western coast of the Continent to a little beyond the equator near the Island of St. Thomas. It gives at the same time a north-westerly direction to a part of the water of the South Atlantic, causing it to strike Cape St. Augustin, and to follow the coast of Guiana to beyond the mouth of the Orinoco, the Boca del Drago, and the coast of Paria. (Rennell, Investigation of the Currents of the Atlantic Ocean, 1832, p. 96 and 136.) The New Continent, from the Isthmus of Panama to the northern part of Mexico, opposes a barrier to the farther continuance of this movement of the waters, and thus the current is constrained to assume a northerly course off Veragua, and thence to follow the windings of the coast of Costa Rica, Mosquito, Campeachy, and Tabasco. The waters which enter the Mexican Gulf between Cape Catoche of Yucatan and Cape San Antonio of Cuba, after completing a great rotatory movement or circuit, by Vera Cruz, Tamiagua, the mouth of the Rio Bravo del Norte, and that of the Mississipi, force their way northwards through the Bahama Channel, and re-issue into the open ocean. Here they form the well-known “Gulf Stream,” a current or river of warm and rapidly moving water, flowing in an oblique or diagonal direction carrying it farther and farther from the North American coast. Ships from Europe bound for this coast, when uncertain in respect to their longitude, are enabled by this oblique direction of the current to direct their course, as soon as they reach the Gulf Stream, by observations of latitude only. The position of this great current was first indicated with accuracy by Franklin, Williams, and Pownall.
From the 41st degree of latitude, the river of warm water, which has been gradually diminishing in rapidity and increasing in breadth, turns suddenly to the east. It almost touches the southern edge of the great Newfoundland bank, where I found the greatest amount of difference between the temperature of the warm water of the Gulf stream, and that of the waters resting on the banks and subjected thereby to a cooling process. Before the stream reaches the westernmost of the Azores it divides into two branches, one of which, at least at certain seasons, advances towards Ireland and Norway, and the other towards the Canaries and the West Coast of Africa. This Atlantic rotatory movement, (described by me in more detail in the first volume of my Voyage to the Equinoctial Regions), explains the possibility of trunks of South American and West Indian trees being carried, in spite of the trade winds, to the coasts of the Canary Islands, and stranded there. I have made many experiments on the temperature of the Gulf Stream in the vicinity of the Banks of Newfoundland. The Stream brings the warmer water of lower latitudes into more northern regions with much rapidity, and I have thus found its temperature two or three degrees of Reaumur (5° to 7° Fah.) higher than that of the adjacent unmoved masses of water, which form as it were the banks of the warm oceanic river.
The flying fish of the tropics (Exocetus volitans) accompanies the warm water of the Gulf Stream far into the temperate zone. Floating sea-weed (Fucus natans), chiefly taken up by the stream in the Gulf of Mexico, shews when a ship is entering the current, and the arrangement of the branches of the sea-weed shews the direction of the movement of the water. The mainmast of the English ship of war, the Tilbury, destroyed by fire on the coast of San Domingo, was carried by the Gulf Stream to the north coast of Scotland. Even casks filled with palm oil, the remains of the cargo of a ship wrecked off Cape Lopez on the coast of Africa, were carried in the same manner to Scotland[*], after having twice traversed the whole breadth of the Atlantic; once from east to west with the equatorial current between 2° and 12° N. lat., and once from west to east by the aid of the Gulf Stream, between 45° and 55° N. lat. Rennell, in p. 347 of the “Investigation of Currents,” relates the voyage of a bottle with papers enclosed, thrown overboard by the English ship Newcastle on the 20th of January, 1819, in lat. 38° 52′, and long. 63° 58′, which was picked up on the 2nd of June, 1820, at the Rosses, (near the Island of Arran), on the west coast of Ireland. A short time before my arrival at Teneriffe a stem of South American cedar (Cedrela odorata), well covered with lichens, had been cast ashore in the harbour of Santa Cruz.
Effects of the Gulf Stream in stranding on the Islands of Fayal, Flores, and Corvo in the Azores, bamboos, artificially cut pieces of wood, trunks of an unknown species of Pine from Mexico and the West Indian Islands, and corpses of men of unknown race with unusually broad faces, contributed to the discovery of America, by confirming Columbus in his belief of the existence to the westward of Asiatic countries and islands at no impassable distance. The great discoverer even heard from the lips of settlers near the Cape de la Verga in the Azores, of some, “who, in sailing westward, had met decked or covered boats, manned by persons of strange and foreign appearance, and built apparently in such a manner that they could not founder,—almadias con casa movediza que nunca se hunden.” There is highly credible and well-confirmed testimony to the fact, much as it has long been doubted, of natives of America, (probably Esquimaux from Greenland or Labrador), carried by currents or driven by storms from the North West, having actually crossed the Atlantic in their canoes and reached our shores. James Wallace, in his “Account of the Islands of Orkney, (1700, p. 60),” relates, that in 1682 a Greenlander was seen in his boat off the South Point of the Island of Eda by several persons, who did not succeed in bringing him to shore. In 1684, a Greenland fisherman appeared in his boat off the Island of Westram. In the church at Barra there was suspended an Esquimaux boat, driven thither by currents and tempests. The inhabitants of the Orkneys call Greenlanders so appearing among them Finns or “Finnmen.”
In Cardinal Bembo’s History of Venice, I find a narrative to the effect that in 1508 a French ship captured near the English coast a small boat, with seven persons of a strange and foreign appearance. The description suits extremely well with Esquimaux, (homines erant septem mediocri statura, colore subobscuro, lato et patente vultu, cicatriceque una violacea signato.) No one understood their language. Their clothing was composed of fish skins sewn together. On their heads they wore “coronam e culmo pictam, septem quasi auriculis intextam.” They ate raw flesh, and drank blood as we would wine. Six of the men died during the passage of the vessel, on board which they had been taken; but the seventh, a youth, was presented to the king of France, who was then at Orleans. (Bembo, Historia Venetæ, ed. 1718, lib. vii. p. 257).
The appearance of men called Indians on the western coasts of Germany, under the Othos, and under Frederic Barbarossa, in the 10th and 12th centuries, and even, as is related by Cornelius Nepos, (ed. Van Staveren, cur. Bardili, T. ii., 1820, p. 356), Pomponius Mela, (lib. iii. cap. 5, § 8), and Pliny, (Hist. Nat., T. ii. p. 67), when Quintus Metellus Celer was Pro-consul in Gaul, may be explained by similar effects of currents and north-west winds of long continuance. A king of the Boii, others say of the Suevi, gave the shipwrecked dark-coloured men to Metellus Celer. Gomara, in his Historia Gen. de las Indias, (Saragossa, 1553, fol. vii.), refers to this account, and considers the Indians spoken of in it to have been natives of Labrador. “Si ya no fuesen de Tierra del Labrador, y los tuviesen, los Romanos por Indianos engañados en el color.” The appearance of Esquimaux on the northern coasts of Europe may be believed to have occurred more often in earlier times, because we know, from the researches of Rask and Finn Magnusen, that in the 11th and 12th centuries this race extended in considerable numbers, under the name of the Skrälinges of Labrador, even as far south as the “good Vinland;” i. e., the coast of Massachusets and Connecticut. (Kosmos, Bd. ii. S. 270; English ed. p. 234; Examen critique de l’Hist. de la Géographie, T. ii. p. 247–278.)
As the winter cold of the most northern parts of Scandinavia is softened by the influence of the Gulf Stream, by which American tropical fruits (cocoa nuts, and seeds of the Mimosa scandens and the Anacardium occidentale) are cast upon the shore beyond the 62nd degree of latitude, so does Iceland also occasionally enjoy the beneficial influence of the extension of the warm waters of the Gulf Stream far to the northward. The coasts of Iceland as well as those of the Färoe Islands, receive a great deal of drift-wood, which, coming formerly in greater abundance, was cut into beams and planks and used for building timber. Fruits of tropical plants, collected on the coast of Iceland, between Raufarhavn and Vapnafiord, testify the movement of the waters from the southward. (Sartorius von Waltershausen, physisch-geographische Skizze von Island, 1847, S. 22–35.)