The Arctic regions and the northern whale-fishery

by William Scoresby

CONTENTS.

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CHAPTER I.
	Page
REMARKS ON THE CELEBRATED QUESTION OF THE EXISTENCE OF A SEA COMMUNICATION BETWEEN THE ATLANTIC AND PACIFIC OCEANS, BY THE NORTH; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE PROGRESS OF DISCOVERY IN THE NORTHERN REGIONS	[9]
CHAPTER II.
DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE POLAR COUNTRIES	[33]
CHAPTER III.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE GREENLAND OR POLAR ICE	[62]
CHAPTER IV.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE ATMOSPHEROLOGY OF THE ARCTIC REGIONS, PARTICULARLY RELATING TO SPITZBERGEN AND THE ADJACENT GREENLAND SEA	[96]
CHAPTER V.
A SKETCH OF THE ZOOLOGY OF THE ARCTIC REGIONS	[139]
CHAPTER VI.
EXPEDITIONS FOR FURTHER DISCOVERY	[188]

THE

ARCTIC REGIONS.

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[CHAPTER I.]

REMARKS ON THE CELEBRATED QUESTION OF THE EXISTENCE OF A SEA COMMUNICATION BETWEEN THE ATLANTIC AND PACIFIC OCEANS, BY THE NORTH; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE PROGRESS OF DISCOVERY IN THE NORTHERN REGIONS.

The question of the existence of a navigable communication between the European and the Chinese seas, by the north, is one which has been long in agitation without being resolved, and has been often revived, with the most sanguine expectations of success, to be again abandoned as hopeless. The first attempts to reach China by sea, were made by steering along the coast of Africa toward the south, and the next, by proceeding from the European shore in a westerly direction. The former, which first proved successful, was accomplished by Vasquez de Gama, a Portuguese, in the year 1497-8; and the latter was undertaken by the renowned navigator, Columbus, in 1492. The notion of steering to India by the north-west, as the shortest way, was suggested about the middle or latter end of the fifteenth century, by John Vaz Costa Cortereal, who performed a voyage to Newfoundland about the year 1463-4; or, according to a more general opinion, by John Cabot, the father of the celebrated Sebastian Cabot, who attempted the navigation in 1497, and perhaps also in 1494-5. The idea of a passage to India by the North Pole was suggested by Robert Thorne, merchant of Bristol, as early as the year 1527; and the opinion of a passage by the north-east was proposed soon afterwards.

The universal interest which has been attached to this question of a sea communication between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, by the north, ever since it was first suggested, about three hundred and thirty or three hundred and fifty years ago, is fully proved by the facts, that the speculation has never but once been abandoned by the nations of Europe for more than twenty-five years together, and that there have been only three or four intervals of more than fifteen years in which no expedition was sent out in search of one or other of the supposed passages, from the year 1500 down to the present time. And it is not a little surprising that, after nearly a hundred different voyages have been undertaken with a view of discovering the desired communication with the Indian seas, all of which have failed, Britain should again revive and attempt the solution of this interesting problem.

Several facts may be brought forward, on which arguments of no mean force may be founded, in support of the opinion of the existence of a sea communication by the north between Europe and China. They may be enumerated in order.

1. The prevailing current in the Spitzbergen sea flows, we are well assured, during nine months of the year, if not all the year round, from the north-east towards the south-west. The velocity of this current may be from five to twenty miles per day, varying in different situations, but is most considerable near the coast of Old Greenland. The current, on the other hand, in the middle of Behring’s Strait, as observed by lieutenant Kotzebue, sets strongly to the north-east, with a velocity, as he thought, of two miles and a half an hour; which is greater, however, by one-half than the rate observed by captain Cook.

2. By the action of the south-westerly current, a vast quantity of ice is annually brought from the north and east, and conducted along the east shore of Old Greenland as far as Cape Farewell, where such masses as still remain undissolved are soon destroyed by the influence of the solar heat and the force of the sea, to which they then become exposed from almost every quarter. This ice being entirely free from salt, and very compact, appears originally to have consisted of field-ice, a kind which perhaps requires the action of frost for many years to bring it to the thickness which it assumes. The quantity of heavy ice, in surface, which is thus annually dissolved, may, at a rough calculation, be stated to be about twenty thousand square leagues, while the quantity annually generated in the regions accessible to the whale-fishers is, probably, not more than one-fourth of that area. As such, the ice, which is so inexhaustible, must require an immense surface of sea for its generation, perhaps the whole or greater part of the so-called “Polar Basin;” the supply required for replacing what is dissolved in Behring’s Strait, where the current sets towards the north, being, probably, of small moment. The current, in opposite parts of the northern hemisphere, being thus found to follow the same line of direction, indicates a communication between the two across the Poles; and the inexhaustible supply of ice, affording about fifteen thousand square leagues, to be annually dissolved above the quantity generated in the known parts of the Spitzbergen seas, supports the same conclusion.

3. The origin of the considerable quantity of drift-wood, found in almost every part of the Greenland sea, is traced to some country beyond the Pole, and may be brought forward in aid of the opinion of the existence of a sea communication between the Atlantic and the Pacific; which argument receives additional strength from the circumstance of some of the drift-wood being worm-eaten. This last fact I first observed on the shores of the island of Jan Mayen, in August, 1817, and confirmed it by more particular observation when at Spitzbergen the year following. Having no axe with me when I observed the worm-eaten wood, and having no means of bringing it away, I could not ascertain whether the holes observed in the timber were the work of a ptinus or a pholas. In either case, however, as it is not known that these animals ever pierce wood in arctic countries, it is presumed that the worm-eaten drift-wood is derived from a transpolar region. Numerous facts of this nature might be adduced, all of which support the same conclusion.

4. The northern faces of the continents of Europe and Asia, as well as of that of America, so far as yet known, are such as renders it difficult even to imagine such a position for the unascertained regions, as to cut off the communication between the Frozen Sea, near the meridian of London, and that in the opposite part of the northern hemisphere, near Behring’s Strait.

5. Whales, which have been harpooned in the Greenland seas, have been found in the Pacific Ocean; and whales, with stone lances sticking in their fat, (a kind of weapon used by no nation now known,) have been caught both in the sea of Spitsbergen and in Davis’s Strait. This fact, which is sufficiently authenticated, seems to me the most satisfactory argument.

The Russians, it appears, have, at intervals, discovered all the navigation between Archangel and the Strait of Behring, excepting a portion of about two hundred miles, occupied by the eastern part of a noss, or promontory, lying between the rivers Khatanga and Piacina. The northern extremity of this noss, called Cape Ceverovostochnoi, appears to have been doubled by lieutenant Prontschitscheff, in the year 1735, so that ice, and perhaps some small islands, seem in this place to form the great obstruction to the navigation. As far as can be well substantiated, the portion of the route between Archangel and Kamtchatka, which has been hitherto accomplished, clearly proves that, if a sea communication between the Atlantic and Pacific by the north-east really exists, it could never be practicable in one year. Inasmuch as the Russians were five or six years in performing so much of the navigation as has been accomplished, though they employed a number of different vessels in the undertaking, it is probable that the voyage could never be performed in one vessel, unless by mere accident, in less than eight or ten years. It is clear, therefore, that the discovery of a “north-east passage” could never be of any advantage to our commerce with China or India.

Though, however, the voyages undertaken in search of a north-east passage by the different nations of Europe have amounted to about twelve, besides numerous partial attempts by the Russians, and though all of them have failed in their principal intention, yet they have not been wholly lost to us; the Spitzbergen whale and seal fisheries, so valuable to the country, with the trade to Archangel, having arisen out of them.

The voyages of Davis, in the years 1585-6 and 1587-8, of Hudson, in 1610, and of Baffin, in 1616, were the source of the greatest part of the discoveries which have been made in the countries situated to the northward and westward of the south point of Greenland. To these regions, consisting of what have been called bays and straits, the names of these celebrated voyagers have been applied. All the voyages, indeed, since undertaken for discovery in the same quarter, amounting to nearly thirty, have done little more than confirm the researches of these three individuals, and show how little there was to be found, instead of discovering anything of moment. The ostensible object of most of these voyages, was the discovery of a shorter passage to India than that by the Cape of Good Hope, by the north-west. The existence of such a passage is not yet either proved or refuted. In an account of “a Voyage to Hudson’s Bay,” by Henry Ellis, such a passage is inferred to exist from the following considerations:—the want of trees on the west side of Hudson’s Bay beyond a certain latitude; the appearance of a certain ridge of mountains lying near the same coast, and extending in a direction parallel to it; the direct testimony of the Indians, that they have seen the sea beyond the mountains, and have observed vessels navigating therein; and, most particularly, the nature and peculiarities observed in the tides. This latter argument is by far the most conclusive. From observations on the winds and tides in the Baltic, Mediterranean, and other inland seas, Ellis proceeds to show, that every circumstance with regard to the tides in Hudson’s Bay is different from what would take place in an inland sea, and then concludes that Hudson’s Bay is not such a sea, but has some opening which communicates with the Frozen Ocean on the north-west.

Other arguments, which have been offered in favour of the separation of Greenland from America, are deduced from the existence of a current setting from the north—from the circumstance of icebergs and drift-wood being brought down by the current—from whales wounded in the Spitzbergen seas having been caught in Davis’s Strait—from the position of the land, as represented on skins by the native American Indians—and from the occurrence of certain plants in Greenland, which are natives of Europe, but have never been found in any part of the American continent.

The opinion appears to be quite incorrect, that if a passage were discovered, it would, probably, be open above half the year. I imagine it would be only at intervals of years that it would be open at all, and then, perhaps, for no longer time than eight or ten weeks in a season. Hence, as affording a navigation to the Pacific Ocean, the discovery of a north-west passage would be of no service. For many reasons, however, the examination of these interesting countries is an object worthy of the attention of a great nation. The advantages that have already arisen to Britain from the voyages undertaken in search of a north-west passage are, the establishment of the Davis’s Strait’s whale-fishery, and of the trade of the Hudson’s Bay company, so that the expenditure has not altogether been lost.

The adventurous spirit manifested by our early navigators, in performing such hazardous voyages in small barks, in which we should be scrupulous of trusting ourselves across the German Ocean, is calculated to strike us with surprise and admiration, while the correctness of their investigations gives us a high opinion of their perseverance and talent. The famous voyage of Baffin, in which the bay bearing his name was discovered, was performed in a vessel of only fifty-five tons’ burden; that of Hudson, in which also the bay called by his name was first navigated, in the very same vessel; and the voyages of Davis chiefly in vessels of fifty, thirty-five, and ten tons’ burden.

In perusing the voyages of our old navigators, it is particularly gratifying to those who consider religion as the chief business of this life, to observe the strain of piety and dependence upon Divine Providence which runs through almost every narrative. Their honest and laudable acknowledgments of a particular interference of the Almighty, working out deliverance for them in times of difficulty and danger, and their frequent declarations expressive of their reliance upon Providence, for assistance and protection in their adventurous undertakings, are worthy of our imitation. Thus, while our modern voyagers are much in the habit of attributing their most remarkable deliverances to “luck,” “chance,” and “fortune,” those of old evidenced certainly a more Christian-like feeling, under such circumstances, by referring their deliverances to that great Being, from whom alone every good thing must be derived. They only who have a similar dependence on Providence, and who have been occasionally in trying situations, can duly appreciate the confidence and comfort which this belief is calculated to afford under the most appalling circumstances.

The class of vessels best adapted for discovery in the Polar seas, seems to be that of one hundred to two hundred tons’ burden. They are stronger, more easily managed, in less danger of being stoved or crushed by ice, and not so expensive as those of larger dimensions. An increase of size is a diminution of comparative strength; and hence it is evident, that a vessel intended for discovery should be just large enough for conveying the requisite stores and provisions, and for affording comfortable accommodation to the navigators, but no larger. Perhaps a vessel about one hundred and fifty tons’ burden would be fully sufficient to answer every purpose. The navigation of the Polar seas, which is peculiar, requires in a particular manner an extensive knowledge of the nature, properties, and usual motions of the ice, and it can only be performed to the best advantage by those who have had long experience in working a ship in icy situations. It might be a material assistance to those employed in completing the examination of Baffin’s Bay, as well as productive of some interesting information in meteorological phenomena, were a vessel or two to remain in the northern part of this bay through the winter. There is very little doubt that the vessel would, by this method, be released by the ice as early as May or June, and thus be afforded about double the time of research that could be obtained by wintering out of the bay. There would not, I imagine, be any very great danger in making this experiment, provided a sufficient quantity of fresh provisions, for the prevention of the scurvy among the crew, were taken out, and certain precautions adopted for the preservation of the ships. The ingenious apparatus invented by Mr. Thomas Morton designed to supersede, in repairing vessels, the necessity of dry docks, might be eminently advantageous.

In seas perpetually encumbered with ice, and probably crowded with islands, if not divided by necks of land, the chance of great discoveries and of extensive navigations towards the north-west, even under the best arrangements and under the boldest seamen, is but small. The most certain method of ascertaining the existence of a communication between the Atlantic and Pacific, along the northern face of America, would doubtless be by journeys on land. Men there are who, being long used to travel upon snow in the service of the Hudson’s Bay company, would readily undertake the journey by the interior lakes of North America to the Frozen Ocean, or, in case of a continuity of land being found, to the very Pole itself, of whose success we should certainly have a reasonable ground of hope. The practicability of this mode of making discoveries has been fully proved by the expeditions of Mackenzie and Hearne; and a possibility of performing very long journeys on snow can be attested, from personal experience, by those who have wintered a few times in Hudson’s Bay.

The plan of performing a journey in this way, for discovering the northern termination of the American continent, and for tracing it round to its junction with the coasts of the same country, washed by the Atlantic, might be in some measure as follows. The party intended for this expedition, which should consist of as few individuals as possible, ought, perhaps, in the course of one summer, to make their way to one of the interior settlements of the Hudson’s Bay company, or of the Canadian traders, such as Slave Fort, on the great Slave Lake, situated in the 62nd degree of latitude, or Fort Chepewyan, near the Athapescow Lake, in latitude 58° 40′, from whence sir Alexander Mackenzie embarked on his voyage to the Frozen Ocean, and there abide during the first winter. Supposing the travellers to winter at Slave Fort, they might calculate on being within the distance of two hundred leagues, or thirty or forty days’ journey, moderate travelling, of the Frozen Ocean. In the month of March or April, the party, consisting of two or three Europeans, one or two Esquimaux interpreters, and two or more Indian guides, provided with everything requisite for the undertaking, might set out towards the north. On the arrival of the travellers among the Esquimaux, their Indian guides, from fear of this nation, would probably desert them, but the presence of their Esquimaux interpreters would secure them a good reception. When once they should meet with this people, they would have a strong evidence of being near the sea, as it is well known the Esquimaux never retire far from the coast. On their arrival at the coast, it will be necessary to associate with the Esquimaux, to submit in some measure to their mode of living, and, to effect any considerable discovery, it might be requisite to spend a winter or two among them, in which case they might trace the line of the Frozen Ocean to such a length, that the place where it joins the western coast of Baffin’s Bay, or Hudson’s Bay, or the eastern side of Greenland, would be determined. Or, if it should be objectionable to winter among the Esquimaux, several expeditions might be sent out at the same time from different stations, and on different meridians. The expense of three or four such expeditions over land would probably be less than that of one expedition by sea.

The scheme suggested by Robert Thorne, of Bristol, of finding a passage to India across the North Pole, about the year 1527, appears to have been immediately attempted by an expedition, consisting of two ships, sent out by order of Henry VIII.; one of the ships, we are informed, was lost; of the nature of the success of the other we have but a very unsatisfactory account. After this voyage, Barentz, Heemskerke, and Ryp, attempted the transpolar navigation, in 1596; Hudson, in 1607; Jonas Poole, in 1610 and 1611; Baffin and Fotherby, in 1614; Fotherby, in 1615; Phipps, in 1773; and Buchan and Franklin, in 1818. The highest latitude attained by any of these navigators did not, it would appear, exceed 81°. My father, in the ship Resolution, of Whitby, in the year 1806, with whom I then served as chief mate, sailed to a much higher latitude. Our latitude, on three occasions, in the month of May, as derived from observations taken with a sextant by myself and my father, was 80° 50′ 28″, 81° 1′ 53″, and 81° 12′ 42″; after which we sailed so far to the northward as made it about 81° 30′, which is one of the closest approximations to the Pole which I conceive has been well authenticated.

Whatever may be our opinion of the accounts brought forward by some parties to prove the occasional accessibility of the 83rd or 84th parallel of north latitude, of this we may be assured, that the opinion of an open sea round the Pole is altogether chimerical. It is urged, indeed, that the extraordinary power of the sun, about the summer solstice, is so far greater at the Pole than at the Equator, as to destroy all the ice generated in the winter season, and to render the temperature of the Pole warmer and more congenial to feeling than it is in some places lying nearer the Equator. So far, however, from the actual influence of the sun, though acknowledged at a certain season to be greater at the Pole than at the Equator, being above what it is calculated to be by the ordinary formulæ for temperature, it is found by experiment in latitude 78° to be greatly below it—how then can the temperature of the Pole be expected to be so very different? From the remarks in the ensuing pages, it will be shown that ice is annually formed during nine months of the year in the Spitzbergen sea, and that neither calm weather, nor the proximity of land, is essential for its formation. Can it, then, be supposed, that at the Pole, where the mean temperature is probably as low as 10°, the sea is not full of ice? If the masses of ice, which usually prevent the advance of navigators beyond the 82nd degree of north latitude, be extended in a continued series to the Pole, (of which, unless there be land in the way, there appears no doubt,) the expectation of reaching the Pole by sea is altogether vain. By land, however, I do not conceive the journey would be impracticable. It would not exceed one thousand two hundred miles, (six hundred miles each way,) and might be performed on sledges, drawn by dogs or reindeer, or even on foot. Foot travellers would require to draw the apparatus and provisions, necessary for the undertaking, on sledges by hand, and in this way, with good dispatch, the journey would occupy at least two months; but, with the assistance of dogs, it might, probably, be accomplished in a little less time. With favourable winds, great advantage might be derived from sails set upon the sledges, which sails, when the travellers were at rest, would serve for the erection of tents. Small vacancies in the ice would not prevent the journey, as the sledges might be adapted so as to answer the purpose of boats, nor would the usual unevenness of the ice, nor the depth or softness of the snow, be an insurmountable difficulty, as journeys of nearly equal length, and under similar inconveniences, have been accomplished.

Among many similar accounts, there is one related by Muller, in his “Voyages from Asia to America,” of a Cossack having actually performed a journey of about eight hundred miles in a sledge, drawn by dogs, across a surface of ice lying to the northward of the Russian dominions, which sufficiently establishes the practicability of a journey across the ice to the Pole. Alexei Markoff, a Cossack, was sent to explore the Frozen Ocean, in the summer of the year 1714, by order of the Russian government, but finding the sea so crowded with ice that he was unable to make any progress in discovery, he formed the design of travelling in sledges, during the winter or spring of the year, over the ice, which might then be expected to be firm and compact. Accordingly, he prepared several of the country sledges, drawn by dogs, and accompanied by eight persons, he set out on the 10th of March from the mouth of the Jana, in latitude 70° 30′, and longitude about 138° east. He proceeded for seven days northward, as fast as his dogs could draw, which, under favourable circumstances, is eighty or one hundred versts a day, until his progress was impeded, about the 78th degree of latitude, by the ice elevated into prodigious mountains. This prevented his further advance; at the same time, falling short of provisions for his dogs, his return was effected with difficulty; several of his dogs died for want, and were given to the rest for their support. On the 3rd of April, he arrived at Ust-Jauskoe Simowie, the place from whence he started, after an absence of twenty-four days, during which time he appears to have travelled about eight hundred miles. The journey of Markoff was nearly equal in extent to the projected journey to the Pole, and there appears no very great reason why a person equally adventurous with Markoff, and better provided, might not in a similar manner reach the Pole.

The first considerable discovery which appears to have been made in or near the arctic circle, was the result of accident; one of the numerous Scandinavian depredators, who, in the ninth century, cruised the northern seas in search of plunder, having been driven, by a long-continued storm, from the eastward upon the coast of Iceland, in the year 861. This island, from the quantity of snow seen on the mountains, was, by its discoverer Naddodd, at first called Schnee, or Snowland. It was visited by a Swede of the name of Gardar Suaffarson, three years after its discovery, and afterwards by another Swede, Flocke, from whom it received the name of Iceland. It was again visited in the year 874, by Ingolf and Lief, two Norwegians, and became the seat of a Norwegian colony.

The coast of Norway, to the entrance of the White Sea, was examined about this period by a person of the name of Ohthere, a Norwegian, who himself gave an account of his voyage to Alfred the Great, by whom it has been handed down to us along with the translation of the Ormesta of Orosius.

About the middle, or towards the end of the tenth century, an extensive country, to the westward of Iceland, was discovered by one of the colonists of the name of Gunbiorn, which country was visited, in the year 982, by one Eric Rauda, who had fled from Norway to Iceland, to avoid the punishment due to the crime of murder and various other offences. To this country he gave the name of Greenland, and in consequence of his exaggerated account of its products and appearance, a respectable colony was founded. About the year 1001, one of the Iceland colonists, Biorn by name, was accidentally driven by a storm to the southward of Greenland, where he discovered a new country, covered with wood. Lief, the son of Eric Rauda, fitted out a vessel, and visited the country. Grapes were discovered in it, and from this circumstance it was called Vinland; the day was eight hours long in winter, whence it appears that it must have been somewhere on the coast of North America, probably on the shore of Newfoundland.

The Christian religion was introduced into Iceland and Greenland about the year 1000, and within a hundred years afterwards generally diffused. Above sixteen churches were then built, and two convents. These buildings, as well as the habitations of the colonists, were erected near the southern point of Greenland. They had two settlements, the most western of which increased up to four parishes, containing one hundred farms or villages; and the most eastern, to twelve parishes, one hundred and ninety villages, one bishop’s see, and two convents. The intercourse between Greenland and the rest of the world was intercepted about the year 1406, when the seventeenth bishop attempted to reach his see, but was prevented by ice. Since the beginning of the fifteenth century, these unfortunate colonists have been of necessity left to themselves, and not having been heard of, are supposed to have perished; but whether they were destroyed by their enemies the Esquimaux, or perished for want of their usual supplies, or were carried off by a destructive pestilence, as some have imagined, is still matter of doubt. Various attempts have been made by order of the Danish government for recovery of this country, and to ascertain the fate of these colonists, but hitherto without success.

Alter the voyages of Columbus, a new stimulus was offered to the enterprising trader, and to those who might be desirous of prosecuting the task of discovery, and a Portuguese navigator, John Vaz Costa Cortereal, about the year 1463 or 1464, tried the passage to India by the west, on a parallel far to the northward of that pursued by Columbus. In this voyage the land of Newfoundland appears to have been seen. The same voyage was attempted by Sebastian Cabot, a Venetian, in the year 1497, and by Gaspar Cortereal and Michael Cortereal, sons of the previously named Costa. Both these brothers perished, and a third brother, who would have followed in search of them, was prohibited from embarking by the king of Portugal.

An important voyage of discovery was that of sir Hugh Willoughby, in the year 1553, in which the coast now called Nova Zembla was discovered, and the Russian territory on the east side of the White Sea. In consequence of this expedition, a regular trade was established with Russia, which was accomplished under various privileges. In the year 1556, further discoveries in the same quarter were made by Stephen Burrough. Then followed the voyages of Martin Frobisher and John Davis; the latter in the year 1585. He proceeded along the west side of Greenland, and then crossing an open sea to the north-westward, discovered land in latitude 66° 40′, giving names to the different parts of the coast which has since been denominated Cumberland Island. In the course of this voyage, they met with a multitude of natives, whom they found a very tractable people, and liberal in their mode of trafficking. In the following year, Davis prosecuted another voyage, but with no discovery of any consequence; and again also, for the third time, in the year following.

Amongst several expeditions sent out by the Dutch, to explore a passage to India and China by the north-east, that of two ships, under the pilotage of William Barentz, is the most memorable. It sailed from Amsterdam the 10th of May, 1596. After having discovered Spitzbergen, the two ships pursued different courses, and Barentz, while endeavouring to sail round Nova Zembla, became entangled in the ice. They were, in consequence, compelled to winter in this desolate and frozen country. “The journal of the proceedings of these poor people,” as Mr. Barrow beautifully observes, “during this cold, comfortless, dark, and dreadful winter is intensely and painfully interesting. No murmuring escapes them in their hopeless and afflicted situation; but such a spirit of true piety, and a tone of such mild and subdued resignation to Divine Providence, breathe throughout the whole narrative, that it is impossible to peruse the simple tale of their sufferings, and contemplate their forlorn situation, without the deepest emotion.” Forcibly, indeed, does their narrative illustrate the mind’s independence of external comforts, and the peace and joy to be derived from trust in God, and cordial submission to his appointments. Part of the sufferers made their escape in two open boats from this dismal country, in the following summer, and after a perilous and painful voyage, of above one thousand one hundred miles, arrived in safety at Cola; but Barentz, with some others, was overcome by the severity of the climate, and the extraordinary exertions which he was obliged to make, and died.

In the year 1608, Henry Hudson was employed in search of a north-east passage; and, in 1610, in a voyage of discovery towards the north-west, in a vessel of fifty-five tons’ burden. It was on this occasion that he discovered the bay which bears his name, hauled his ship on shore in a convenient situation, and wintered there. They fell short of provisions, and the following summer the crew mutinied, and abandoned their captain, his son, and others of the crew, to a most cruel fate. In 1616 was accomplished the remarkable voyage of William Baffin, attended by discoveries of a most extensive nature in the bay which bears his name, which, though regarded with considerable doubt at first, have since been abundantly confirmed by the labours of captain Ross and lieutenant Parry.

In March, 1822, the ship Baffin sailed from Liverpool, and reached 80° north latitude without experiencing any frost; on the 27th April, we arrived within ten miles of Spitzbergen, and were stopped in latitude 80° 30′ by main ice. Afterwards, we encountered a most heavy gale, the thermometer falling in the space of sixteen hours 34°, being the most remarkable change I ever experienced in Greenland seas. On the 1st May, we advanced to only five hundred and sixty-six miles’ distance from the Pole, and subsequently discovered the eastern coast of Greenland, a continuation towards the north of the coast on which the ancient Icelandic colonies were planted. We surveyed and named various parts of this coast, to the extent of about eight hundred miles, and found traces of inhabitants. It was inferred that Greenland is probably a great group of islands. The expedition returned on the 18th September, in the same year.

[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.

[CHAPTER III.]

AN ACCOUNT OF THE GREENLAND OR POLAR ICE.

Of the inanimate productions of the Polar Seas, none perhaps excite so much interest and astonishment in a stranger as the ice in its great abundance and variety. The stupendous masses known by the name of icelands or icebergs, common to Davis’s Strait, and sometimes met with in the Spitzbergen Sea, from their height, various forms, and the depth of water in which they ground, are calculated to strike the beholder with wonder; yet the prodigious sheets of ice, called ice-fields, more peculiar to the Spitzbergen Sea, are not less astonishing. Their deficiency in elevation is sufficiently compensated by their amazing extent of surface. Some of them have been observed extending many leagues in length, and covering an area of several hundreds of square miles, each consisting of a single sheet of ice, having its surface raised in general four or six feet above the level of the water, and its base depressed to the depth of ten to twenty feet beneath.

The ice in general is designated by a variety of appellations, distinguishing it according to the size or shape of the pieces, their number or form of aggregation, thickness, transparency, situation, etc. As the different denominations of ice will be frequently referred to in the course of this work, it may be useful to give definitions of the terms in use among the whale-fishers for distinguishing them.

1. An iceberg, or ice-mountain, is a large insulated peak of floating ice, or a glacier, occupying a ravine or valley, generally opening towards the sea in an arctic country.

2. A field is a sheet of ice, so extensive that its limits cannot be discerned from the ship’s mast-head.

3. A floe is similar to a field, but smaller, inasmuch as its extent can be seen. This term, however, is seldom applied to pieces of ice of less diameter than half-a-mile or a mile.

4. Drift-ice consists of pieces less than floes, of various shapes and magnitudes.

5. Brash-ice is still smaller than drift-ice, and may be considered as the wreck of other kinds of ice.

6. Bay-ice is that which is newly-formed on the sea, and consists of two kinds, common bay-ice and pancake-ice; the former occurring in smooth extensive sheets, and the latter in small circular pieces, with raised edges.

7. Sludge consists of a stratum of detached ice crystals, or of snow, or of the smaller fragments of brash-ice, floating on the surface of the sea.

8. A hummock is a protuberance raised upon any plane of ice above the common level. It is frequently produced by pressure, where one piece is squeezed upon another, often set upon its edge, and in that position cemented by the frost. Hummocks are likewise formed by pieces of ice mutually crushing each other, the wreck being heaped upon one or both of them. To hummocks, principally, the ice is indebted for its variety of fanciful shapes, and its picturesque appearance. They occur in great numbers in heavy packs, on the edges, and occasionally in the middle of fields and floes, where they often attain the height of thirty feet or upwards.

9. A calf is a portion of ice which has been depressed by the same means as a hummock is elevated. It is kept down by some larger mass, from beneath which it shows itself on one side.

10. A tongue is a point of ice projecting nearly horizontally from a part that is under water. Ships have sometimes run aground upon tongues of ice.

11. A pack is a body of drift-ice, of such magnitude that its extent is not discernible. A pack is open when the pieces of ice, though very near each other, do not generally touch, or close when the pieces are in complete contact.

12. A patch is a collection of drift or bay-ice, of a circular or polygonal form. In point of magnitude, a pack corresponds with a field, and a patch with a floe.

13. A stream is an oblong collection of drift or bay-ice, the pieces of which are continuous. It is called a sea-stream when it is exposed on one side to the ocean, and affords shelter from the sea to whatever is within it.

14. Open-ice, or sailing-ice, is where the pieces are so separate as to admit of a ship sailing conveniently among them.

15. Heavy and light are terms attached to ice, distinguishable of its thickness.

16. Land-ice consists of drift-ice attached to the shore; or drift-ice which, by being covered with mud or gravel, appears to have recently been in contact with the shore; or the flat ice resting on the land, not having the appearance or elevation of icebergs.

17. A bight is a bay in the outline of the ice.

18. A lane or vein is a narrow channel of water in packs or other large collections of ice.

When the sea freezes, the greatest part of the salt it contains is deposited, and the frozen mass, however spongy, probably contains no salt but what is natural to the sea-water filling its pores. Hence the generality of ice, when dissolved, affords fresh water. As, however, the ice frozen altogether from sea-water does not appear so solid and transparent as that procured from snow or rain water, the whale-fishers distinguish it into two kinds, accordingly as it affords water that is potable, or the contrary, as it appears to have been the product of fresh or salt water.

What is considered as salt-water-ice appears blackish in the water, but in the air is of a white or grey colour, porous, and in a great measure opaque, (except when in very thin pieces,) yet transmits the rays of light with a blue or blueish green shade. When dissolved, it produces water sometimes perfectly fresh, and at others saltish. This depends, in a great measure, on the situation from whence it is taken; such parts as are raised above the surface of the sea, in the form of hummocks, or which, though below the surface, have been long frozen, appear to gain solidity, and are commonly fresh; whilst those pieces taken out of the sea, that have been recently frozen, are somewhat salt.

Fresh-water-ice of the sailors is distinguished by its black appearance when floating in small pieces in the sea, and by its transparency when removed into the air. Fresh-water-ice is fragile, but hard; the edges of a fractured part are frequently so keen as to inflict a wound like glass. The most transparent pieces are capable of concentrating the rays of the sun, so as to produce a considerable intensity of heat. With a lump of ice, of by no means regular convexity, I have frequently burned wood, fired gunpowder, incited lead, and lit the sailors’ pipes, to their great astonishment, all of whom, who could procure the needful articles, eagerly flocked around me, for the satisfaction of smoking a pipe ignited by such extraordinary means. Their astonishment was increased by observing that the ice remained firm and pellucid, while the solar rays emerging from it were so hot, that the hand could not be kept longer in the focus than for the space of a few seconds. In the formation of these lenses, I roughed them out with a small axe, and then scraped them with a knife, polishing them merely by the warmth of the hand, supporting them during the operation in a woollen glove. I once procured a piece of the purest ice, so large that a lens of sixteen inches diameter was obtained out of it; unhappily, however, the sun became obscured before it was completed, and never made its appearance again for a fortnight, during which time, the air being mild, the lens was spoiled.

All young ice, such as bay-ice and light-ice, which form a considerable part of drift and pack-ice in general, is considered by Greenland sailors salt-water-ice; while fields, floes, bergs, and heavy-ice, chiefly consist of fresh-water-ice. Brash-ice likewise affords fine specimens of the latter, which, when taken out of the sea, are always found crowded on the surface with sharp points and conchoidal excavations.

Ice, when rapidly dissolved, continues solid as long as any remains, but, when exposed to the air, at a temperature of only two or three degrees above the freezing point, its solution is effected in a very peculiar manner. Thus, a large lump of fresh-water-ice, when acted on by such a process, if placed in the plane of its formation, resolves itself into considerable columns of a prismatic appearance. These columns are situated in a perpendicular position, almost entirely detached, so that when a blow is struck with an axe, the whole mass frequently falls to pieces. In the land icebergs, these columns are often of amazing magnitude, so as, when separated, to form floating icebergs.

All the ice floating in the sea is generally rough and uneven on the surface, and during the greater part of the year covered with snow. Even newly-formed ice, which is free from snow, is so rough and soft that it cannot be skated upon. Under water the colour of the ice varies with the colour of the sea; in blue water it is blue, in green water it is green, and of deeper shades in proportion to its depth. In the thickest olive-green coloured water, its colour, far beneath the surface, appears brownish.

A description of the process of freezing from its commencement may now be attempted. The first appearance of ice, when in a state of detached crystals, is called by the sailors sludge, and resembles snow when cast into water that is too cold to dissolve it. This smooths the ruffled surface of the sea, and produces an effect like oil in preventing breakers. These crystals soon unite, and would form a continuous sheet, but, by the motion of the waves, they are broken in very small pieces, scarcely three inches in diameter. As they strengthen, many of them coalesce, and form a larger mass. The undulations of the sea still continuing, these enlarged pieces strike each other on every side, whereby they become rounded, and their edges turn up, whence they obtain the name of cakes, or pan-cakes. Several of these again unite, and thereby continue to increase, forming larger flakes, until they become perhaps a foot in thickness, and many yards in circumference. Every larger flake retains on its surface the impression of the smaller flakes of which it is composed, so that when, by the discontinuance of the swell, the whole is permitted to freeze into an extensive sheet, it sometimes assumes the appearance of a pavement. But when the sea is perfectly smooth, the freezing process goes on more regularly, and probably more rapidly. During twenty-four hours’ keen frost, the ice will become an inch or two in thickness, and in less than forty-eight hours’ time capable of sustaining the weight of a man. Both this kind, and cake-ice, are termed bay-ice. In every opening of the main body of ice at a distance from the sea, the water is always as smooth as that of a harbour; and in low temperatures, all that is necessary for the formation of ice is still water. There is no doubt that a large quantity of ice is annually generated in the bays and amidst the islands of Spitzbergen; which bays, towards the end of summer, are commonly emptied of their contents, from the thawing of the snow on the mountains causing a current outwards. But this will not account for the immense fields which are so abundant in Greenland. These evidently come from the northward, and have their origin between Spitzbergen and the Pole.

Ice-fields constitute one of the wonders of the deep. They are often met with of the diameter of twenty or thirty miles, and when in the state of such close combination that no interstice could be seen, they sometimes extend to a length of fifty or a hundred miles. The ice of which they are composed is generally pure and fresh, and in heavy fields it is probably of the average thickness of ten to fifteen feet, and then appears to be flat, low, thin ice; but when high hummocks occur, the thickness is often forty feet and fifty feet. The surface before the month of July is always covered with a bed of snow, from perhaps a foot to a fathom in depth. This snow dissolves in the end of summer, and forms extensive pools and lakes of fresh water. Some of the largest fields are very level and smooth, though generally their surfaces are varied with hummocks. In some, these hummocks form ridges or chains, in others, they consist of insulated heaps. I once saw a field which was so free from either fissure or hummock, that I imagined, had it been free from snow, a coach might have been driven many leagues over it in a direct line, without obstruction or danger. Hummocks somewhat relieve the uniformity of intense light reflected from the surface of fields, by exhibiting shades of delicate blue in all the hollows, where the light is partly intercepted by passing through a portion of ice.

When the surface of snow on fields is frozen, or when the snow is generally dissolved, there is no difficulty in travelling over them, even without snow-skates or sledges. But when the snow is soft and deep, travelling on foot to any distance is a work of labour. The tribe of Esquimaux, discovered by captain Ross, made use of sledges, drawn by dogs, for conveying them across the rough land-ice, lying between the ships and the shore. A journey they performed with such celerity, that captain Ross conjectured they could travel fifty or sixty miles a day. If such a distance were practicable on drift-ice, occurring near shore, it would be much more easy on the smoother ice of fields.

This term, field, was given to the largest sheets of ice by a Dutch whale-fisher. It was not until a period of many years after the Spitzbergen fishery was established, that any navigator attempted to penetrate the ice, or that any of the most extensive sheets of ice were seen. One of the ships resorting to Smeerenberg for fishery, put to sea on one occasion when no whales were seen, persevered westward to a considerable length, and accidentally fell in with some immense flakes of ice, which, on his return to his companions, he described as truly wonderful, and as resembling fields in the extent of their surface. Hence the application of the term field to this kind of ice. The discoverer of it was distinguished by the title of “field-finder.”

Fields commonly make their appearance in the months of May or June, though sometimes earlier; they are frequently the resort of young whales. Strong north and westerly winds expose them to the whalers by driving off the loose ice. The invariable tendency of fields is to drift to the south-westward, even in calms, which is the means of many being yearly destroyed. They have frequently been observed to advance a hundred miles in this direction within the space of one month, notwithstanding the occurrence of winds from every quarter. On emerging from amidst the smaller ice, which before sheltered them, they are soon broken up by the swell, are partly dissolved, and partly converted into drift-ice. The places of such are supplied by others from the north. The power of the swell in breaking the heaviest fields is not a little remarkable. A grown swell, that is so inconsiderable as not to be observed in open water, frequently breaks up the largest fields, and converts them wholly into floes and drift-ice in the space of a few hours; while fields composed of bay-ice, or light-ice, being more flexible, endure the same swell without any destructive effort.

The occasional rapid motion of fields, with the strange effects produced by such immense bodies on any opposing substance, is one of the most striking objects the Polar seas present, and is certainly the most terrific. They not unfrequently acquire a rotatory movement, whereby their circumference attains a velocity of several miles per hour. A field thus in motion, coming in contact with another at rest, or more especially with another having a contrary direction of movement, produces a dreadful shock. A body of more than ten thousand millions of tons in weight, meeting with resistance when in motion, produces consequences which it is scarcely possible to conceive. The weaker field is crushed with an awful noise; sometimes the destruction is mutual; pieces of huge dimensions and weight are not unfrequently piled upon the top, to the height of twenty or thirty feet, while a proportionate quantity is depressed beneath. The view of these stupendous effects in safety exhibits a picture sublimely grand, but where there is danger of being overwhelmed, terror and dismay must be the predominant feelings. The whale-fishers at all times require unremitting vigilance to secure their safety, but scarcely in any situation so much as when navigating amidst these fields; in foggy weather, they are particularly dangerous, as their motions cannot then be distinctly observed. It may easily be imagined, that the strongest ship is but an insignificant impediment between two fields in motion. Numbers of vessels, since the establishment of the fishery, have been thus destroyed; some have been thrown upon the ice, some have had their hulls completely torn open, or divided in two, and others have been overrun by the ice, and buried beneath its heaped fragments. The Dutch have lost as many as twenty-three sail of ships among the ice in one year. In the season of 1684, fourteen of their ships were wrecked, and eleven more remained beset during the winter.

In the month of May, of the year 1814, I witnessed a tremendous scene. While navigating amidst the most ponderous ice which the Greenland Sea presents, in the prospect of making our escape from a state of besetment, our progress was unexpectedly arrested by an isthmus of ice, about a mile in breadth, formed by the coalition of the point of an immense field on the north, with that of an aggregation of floes on the south. To the north field we moored the ship, in the hope of the ice separating in this place. I then quitted the ship, and travelled over the ice to the point of collision, to observe the state of the bar, which now prevented our release. I immediately discovered that the two points had but recently met, that already a prodigious mass of rubbish had been squeezed upon the top, and that the motion had not abated. The fields continued to overlay each other with a majestic motion, producing a noise resembling that of complicated machinery, or distant thunder. The pressure was so immense, that numerous fissures were occasioned, and the ice repeatedly rent beneath my feet. In one of the fissures, I found the snow on the level three and a half feet deep, and the ice upwards of twelve. In one place, hummocks had been thrown up to the height of twenty feet from the surface of the field, and at least twenty-five feet from the level of the water; they extended fifty or sixty yards in length, and fifteen in breadth, forming a mass of about two thousand tons in weight. The majestic, unvaried movement of the ice, the singular noise by which it was accompanied, the tremendous power exerted, and the wonderful effects produced—were calculated to excite in the mind of the most careless spectator admiration of Him with whom “the nations are as a drop of a bucket, and are counted as the small dust of the balance: behold, he taketh up the isles as a very little thing.”

The term icebergs has commonly been applied to the glaciers occurring in Spitzbergen, Greenland, and other arctic countries. It is also as commonly extended to the large peaks, mountains, or islets of ice that are found floating in the sea. It is the latter kind of icebergs we purpose to describe.

Icebergs occur in many places in the arctic and antarctic regions; some of them of astonishing magnitude. In the Spitzbergen Sea, indeed, they are neither numerous nor bulky, compared with those of other regions; the largest I ever met with in this quarter not exceeding a thousand yards in circumference, and two hundred feet in thickness. But in Hudson’s Strait, Davis’s Strait, and Baffin’s Bay, they occur of a prodigious size. Ellis describes them as sometimes occurring of the thickness of five hundred or six hundred yards. Frobisher saw one iceberg which was judged to be “near fourscore fathoms above water.” One berg is described by captain Ross (the dimensions of which were given in by lieutenant Parry[1]) as having nine unequal sides, as being aground in sixty-one fathoms, and as measuring 4,169 yards (paces) long, 3,689 yards broad, and fifty-one feet high. The weight of this iceberg, taken at somewhat smaller dimensions, was estimated, by an officer of the Alexander, at 1,292,397,673 tons. This amount, however, is greater than the truth, the cubical inch of ice being taken at 240 grains, whereas it does not exceed 231·5 grains.

The most abundant source of icebergs known in the arctic regions is Baffin’s Bay. From this remarkable sea they constantly make their way towards the south, down Davis’s Strait, and are scattered abroad in the Atlantic to an amazing extent. The banks of Newfoundland are occasionally crowded with these wonderful productions of the frigid zone; beyond which they are sometimes conveyed, by the operation of the southerly under-current, as low as latitude 40° north, and even lower, a distance of at least two thousand miles from the place of their origin.

Icebergs commonly float on a base which is larger in extent than the upper surface. Hence the proportion of ice appearing above water is seldom less in elevation than one-seventh of the whole thickness; and when the summit is conical, the elevation above water is frequently one-fourth of the whole depth of the berg. Perhaps the most general form of icebergs is with one high perpendicular side, the opposite side very low, and the intermediate surface forming a gradual slope. When of such a form, captain Ross found that the higher end was generally to windward. Some icebergs have regular flat surfaces, but most usually they have different acute summits, and occasionally exhibit the most fantastic shapes. Some have been seen that were completely perforated, or containing prodigious caverns, or having many clefts or cracks in the most elevated parts, so as to give the appearance of several distinct spires. On some icebergs, where there are hollows, a great quantity of snow accumulates; others are smooth and naked. The naked sides are often filled with conchoidal excavations, of various magnitudes; sometimes with hollows the size of the finger, and as regular as if formed by art. On some bergs, pools of water occur stagnant; on others, large streams are seen oozing through crevices into the sea. In a high sea, the waves break against them as against a rock; and, in calm weather, where there is a swell, the noise made by their rising and falling is tremendous. When icebergs are aground, or when there is a superficial current running to leeward, the motion of other ice past them is so great that they appear to be moving to windward. Fields of ice, of considerable thickness, meeting a berg under such circumstances, are sometimes completely ripped up and divided through the middle. Icebergs, when acted on by the sun, or by a temperate atmosphere, become hollow and fragile. Large pieces are then liable to be broken off, and fall into the sea with a terrible crash, which, in some places, produces an echo in the neighbouring mountains. When this circumstance, called calving, takes place, the iceberg loses its equilibrium, sometimes turns on one side, and is occasionally inverted. The sea is thereby put into commotion, fields of ice in the vicinity are broken up, the waves extend, and the noise is heard to the distance of several miles; and sometimes the rolling motion of the berg not ceasing, other pieces get loosened and detached, till the whole mass falls asunder like a wreck.

Icebergs differ a little in colour according to their solidity and distance, or state of the atmosphere. A very general appearance is that of cliffs of chalk, or of white or grey marble. The sun’s rays reflected from them sometimes give a glistening appearance to their surfaces. Different shades of colour occur in the precipitous parts, accordingly as the ice is more or less solid, and accordingly as it contains strata of earth, gravel, or sand, or is free from any impurity. In the fresh fracture, greenish grey, approaching to emerald green, is the prevailing colour. In the night, icebergs are readily distinguished, even at a distance, by their natural effulgence; and in foggy weather, by a peculiar blackness in the atmosphere, by which the danger to the navigator is diminished. As, however, they occur far from land, and often in unexpected situations, navigators require to be always on the watch for them. Though often dangerous neighbours, they have occasionally proved useful auxiliaries to the whale-fishers. Their situation in a smooth sea is very little affected by the wind; under the strongest gale they are not perceptibly moved, but, on the contrary, have the appearance of advancing to windward, because every other description of ice moves rapidly past them. From the iceberg’s firmness, it often affords a stable mooring to the ship in strong adverse winds, and the fisher likewise avails himself of it when his object is to gain a windward situation more open. He moors under the lee of the iceberg, loose ice soon forces past, the ship remains nearly stationary, and the wished-for effect seldom fails to result. Vessels have, however, often been staved, and sometimes wrecked, by the fall of their icy mooring; while smaller objects, such as boats, have been repeatedly overwhelmed, even at a considerable distance, by the vast waves occasioned by such events.

All ice becomes exceedingly fragile towards the close of the whale-fishing season, when the temperate air thaws its surface, and changes its solid structure into a brittle mass of imperfectly attached columns. Bergs in this state being struck by an axe, for the purpose of placing a mooring anchor, have been known to rend asunder, and precipitate the careless seaman into the yawning chasm; whilst, occasionally, the masses are hurled apart, and fall in contrary directions with a prodigious crash, burying boats and men in one common ruin. The awful effect produced by a solid mass, many thousands, or even millions, of tons in weight, changing its situation with the velocity of a falling body, whereby its aspiring summit is in a moment buried in the ocean, can be more easily imagined than described. Though a blow with an edge-tool on brittle ice does not sever the mass, still it is often succeeded by a crackling noise, proving the mass to be ready to burst from the force of internal expansion, or from the destruction of its texture by a warm temperature. It is common, when ships moor to icebergs, to lie as remote from them as their ropes will allow, and yet accidents sometimes happen, though the ship ride at the distance of a hundred yards from the ice. In the year 1812, while the Thomas, of Hull, captain Taylor, lay moored to an iceberg in Davis’s Strait, a calf was detached from beneath, and rose with such tremendous force, that the keel of the ship was lifted on a level with water at the bow, and the stern was nearly immersed beneath the surface. Fortunately, the blow was received on the keel, and the ship was not materially damaged.

From the deep pools of water found in the summer season on the depressed surface of some bergs, or from streams running down their sides, the ships navigating where they abound are presented with opportunities for watering with the greatest ease and dispatch. For this purpose, casks are landed upon the lower bergs, filled, and rolled into the sea; but, from the higher, the water is conveyed by means of a long tube of canvas, or leather, called a hose, into casks placed in the boats, at the side of the ice, or even upon the deck of the ship.

The greater part of the icebergs that occur in Davis’s Strait, and on the eastern coast of North America, notwithstanding their profusion and immense magnitude, seem to be merely fragments of the land icebergs, or glaciers, which exist in great numbers on the coast forming the boundaries of Baffin’s Bay. These glaciers fill immense valleys, and extend, in some places, several miles into the sea; in others, they terminate with a precipitous edge at the general line formed by the coast. In the summer season, when they are particularly fragile, the force of cohesion is often overcome by the weight of the prodigious masses that overhang the sea; and, in winter, the same effect may be produced by the powerful expansion of the water filling any excavation, or deep-seated cavity, when its dimensions are enlarged by freezing, thereby exerting a tremendous force, and bursting the berg asunder. Pieces thus, or otherwise, detached, are hurled into the sea with a dreadful crash. When they fall into sufficiently deep water, they are liable to be drifted off the land, and down Davis’s Strait, according to the set of the current; but, if they fall into a shallow sea, they must remain until sufficiently wasted to float away.

Spitzbergen is possessed of every character which is supposed to be necessary for the formation of the largest icebergs; high mountains, deep extensive valleys, intense frost, occasional thaws, and great falls of sleet and snow; yet here a berg is rarely met with, and the largest that occur are not to be compared with the productions of Baffin’s Bay. The reason of the difference between Spitzbergen and Old Greenland as to the production of icebergs is, perhaps, this—that, while the sea is generally deep, and the coast almost continually sheltered by drift-ice at the foot of the glaciers, in Baffin’s Bay; in Spitzbergen, on the contrary, they usually terminate at the water’s edge, or where the sea is shallow, so that no very large mass, if dislodged, can float away, and they are, at the same time, so much exposed to heavy swells, as to occasion dismemberments too frequently to admit of their attaining considerable magnitude.

That extensive body of ice which, with occasional tracts of land, occupies the northern extremity of the earth, and prevents all access to the regions immediately surrounding the Pole, fills, it appears, on an average, a circle of above two thousand geographical miles diameter, and presents an outline which, though subject to partial variations, is found at the same season of each succeeding year to be generally similar, and often strikingly uniform. The most remarkable alteration in the configuration of the Polar ice on record, is that said to have taken place between Iceland and Greenland, in the beginning of the fifteenth century, whereby the intercourse between the Icelanders and the colonies in Greenland was interrupted; and, although many attempts have been made on the part of Denmark for the recovery of these colonies, and for ascertaining the fate of the colonists, they have not yet succeeded. In various countries, changes of climate, to a certain extent, have occurred within the limits of historical record; these changes have been commonly for the better, and have been considered as the effects of human industry, in draining marshes and lakes, felling woods, and cultivating the earth; but here is an occurrence which, if it be indeed true, is the reverse of common experience, and concerning the causes of which it is not easy to offer any conjecture.

With each recurring spring, the north Polar ice presents the following general outline. Filling the Bays of Hudson and Baffin, as well as the Straits of Hudson, and part of that of Davis, it exhibits an irregular, waving, but generally continuous line, from Newfoundland or Labrador to Nova Zembla. From Newfoundland it extends in a northerly direction along the Labrador shore, generally preventing all access to the land, as high as the mouth of Hudson’s Strait; then, turning to the north-eastward, forms a bay near the coast of Greenland, in latitude perhaps 66° or 67°, by suddenly passing away to the southward to the extremity of Greenland. The quantity of ice on the east side of Davis’s Strait being often small, the continuity of its border is liable to be broken, so as to admit of ships reaching the land; and sometimes the bay of the ice, usually occurring in the spring, in latitude 66° or 67°, does not exist, but the sea is open up the strait to a considerable distance beyond it. After doubling the southern promontory, or Cape Farewell, it advances in a north-eastern direction along the east coast, sometimes enveloping Iceland as it proceeds, until it reaches the Island of Jan Mayen. Passing this island on the north-west, but frequently inclosing it, the edge of the ice then trends a little more to the eastward, and usually intersects the meridian of London between the 71st and 73rd degree of latitude. Having reached the longitude of 5° or 6° east, in some instances as far as 8° or 10°, in the 73rd or 74th degree or north latitude, it joins a remarkable promontory, and suddenly stretches to the north, sometimes proceeding on a meridian to the latitude of 80°, at others forming a deep sinuosity, extending two or three degrees to the northward, and then south-easterly to Cherie Island, which, having passed, it assumes a more direct course a little to the southward of east, until it forms a junction with the Siberian or Nova Zemblan coast.

During the winter and spring months, the Polar ice seems closely to embrace the whole of the northern shores of Russia, to the eastward of Nova Zembla, and filling, in a great measure, Behring’s Strait and the sea to the northward of it, continues in contact with the Polar face of the American continent, following the line of the coast to the eastward, until it effects a junction with the ice in the Spitzbergen Sea, or in the great north-western bays of Hudson and Baffin, or is terminated by land yet undiscovered.

That remarkable promontory midway between Jan Mayen and Cherie Islands, formed by the sudden stretch of the ice to the north, constitutes the line of separation between the east, or whaling, and west, or sealing, ice of the fishers; and the deep bay lying to the east of this promontory, which may be called the Whale-fisher’s Bight, invariably forms the only pervious track for proceeding to fishing latitudes northward. When the ice at the extremity of this bay occurs so strong and compact as to prevent the approach to the shores of Spitzbergen, and the advance northward beyond the latitude of 75° or 76°, it is said to be a close season, and, on the contrary, it is called an open season when an uninterrupted navigation extends along the western coast of Spitzbergen to Hackluyt’s Headland.

The place where whales occur in the greatest abundance is generally found to be in 78° or 79° of north latitude, though, from the 72nd to the 81st degree they have been met with. They prefer those situations which afford them the most secure retreats, and the course of their flight when scared or wounded is generally towards the nearest or most compact ice. The place of their retreat, however, is regulated by various circumstances; it may sometimes depend on the quality or quantity of food occurring, the disposition of the ice, or exemption from enemies. Sometimes they seem collected within a small and single circuit; at others, they are scattered in various hordes and numerous single individuals over an amazing extent of surface. In close seasons, though the ice joins the south of Spitzbergen, and thereby forms a barrier against the fishing-stations, yet this barrier is often of a limited extent, and terminates on the coasts of Spitzbergen in an open space, either forming or leading to the retreat of the whales. Such space is sometimes frozen over till the middle or end of the month of May, but not unfrequently free from ice. The barrier here opposed to the fisher usually consists of a body of ice, from twenty to thirty or forty leagues across in the shortest diameter. It is of importance to pass this barrier of ice as early as possible in the season. The fisher here avails himself of every power within his command. The sails are expanded in favourable winds, and withdrawn in contrary breezes. The ship is urged forward amongst drift-ice by the force of the wind, assisted with ropes and saws. Whenever a vein of water appears in the required direction, it is, if possible, attained. It always affords a temporary relief, and sometimes a permanent release, by extending itself through intricate mazes, amidst ice of various descriptions, until at length it opens into the desired place, void of obstruction, constituting the usual retreat of the whales.

The barrier which we have described, when it occurs, is regularly encountered on the first arrival of the Greenland ships in the month of April, but is generally removed by natural means as the season advances. It is usually found separate from the land, and divided asunder by the close of the month of June; and hence it is that, however difficult and laborious may have been the ingress into the fishing country, the egress is commonly effected without much inconvenience. In the month of May, the severity of the frost relaxes, and the temperature generally approaches a few degrees of the freezing point. The salt in the sea then exerts its liquefying influence, and destroys the tenacity of the bay-ice, makes inroads in its parts by enlarging its pores into holes, diminishes its thickness, and, in the language of the whale-fisher, completely rots it. Packed drift-ice is then liberated, and obeys the slightest impulses of the winds or currents. The heavier having more stability than the lighter, an apparent difference of movement obtains among the pieces, and holes and lanes of water are formed to allow the entrance and progress of the ships. Bay-ice, though sometimes serviceable to the whalers in preserving them from the brunt of the heavy ice, is often the means of besetment, and hence the primary cause of every calamity. Heavy ice, many feet in thickness, and in detached pieces of from fifty to a hundred tons’ weight each, though crowded together in the form of a pack, may be penetrated in a favourable gale with tolerable dispatch, whilst a sheet of bay-ice, of a few inches only in thickness, with the same advantage of wind, will often arrest the progress of the ship, and render her in a few minutes immovable. If this ice be too strong to be broken by the weight of the boat, recourse must be had to sawing, an operation slow and laborious in the extreme.

When the warmth of the season has rotted the bay-ice, the passage to the northward can generally be accomplished with a very great saving of labour. Therefore it was the older fishers seldom or never used to attempt it before the 10th of May, and foreign fishers in the present day are in general late. Sometimes late arrivals are otherwise beneficial, since it frequently happens, in close seasons, that ships entering the ice about the middle of May obtain an advantage over those preceding them, by gaining a situation more eligible, on account of its nearness to the land. Their predecessors, meanwhile, are drifted off to the westward with the ice, and cannot recover their easting. Hence, it appears, it would be economical and beneficial to sail so late as not to reach the country before the middle of May, or to persevere on the sealing stations until that time. There are, however, some weighty objections to this method. Open seasons occasionally occur, and great progress may be made, especially by superior fishers, before that time. A week or a fortnight’s solitary fishing, under favourable circumstances, has frequently gained half a cargo. The change which takes place in the ice, amidst which the whale-fisher pursues his object, is, towards the close of the season, indeed astonishing. For, not only does it separate into its original individual portions, not only does it retreat in a body from the western coast of Spitzbergen, but, in general, that barrier of ice which incloses the fishing-site in the spring, which costs the fisher immense labour and anxiety to penetrate, by retarding his advance towards the north, and his progress in the fishery, for the space of several weeks, spontaneously divides in the midst about the month of June, and, on the return of the ships, is not at all to be seen. Then is the sea rendered freely navigable from the very haunts of the whales to the expanse of the Atlantic Ocean.

Our remarks may now be directed, for a few pages, to the properties, peculiar movements, and drifting of the ice.

1. The ice always has a tendency to separate during calms.

2. Openings in packs and among fields, or floes, frequently break out, or disappear, without any apparent cause.

3. Fields often open, close, and revolve, in the most extraordinary manner, in calms as well as in storms.

4. The amazing changes which take place amongst the most compact ice are often unaccountable.

5. When speaking of the currents of the Spitzbergen Sea, it has been remarked that the Polar ice, in this situation, has a constant tendency to drift to the south-westward. Near Spitzbergen, indeed, this tendency is not usually observed, because the influence of the tide, eddies, peculiar pressures, etc., sometimes produce a contrary effect; but, at a distance from land, its universal prevalence is easily illustrated.

In the beginning of May, 1814, we entered with the ship Esk, of Whitby, a spacious opening of the ice, in latitude 78° 10′, longitude 4° east, to a distance of ten or twelve leagues from the exterior, wherein we were tempted to stay, from the appearance of a great number of whales. On the 9th of May, the ship became fixed in the ice, and, until the 16th, we lay immovable. A break of the bay-ice then appeared about half-a-mile from us, to attain which we laboured with energy, and, in eight hours, accomplished a passage for the ship. On the 20th, in attempting to advance, we endured a heavy pressure of the bay-ice, which shook the ship in an alarming manner. After a fatiguing effort in passing through the midst of an aggregation of floes against the wind, we reached a channel, which led us several miles to the south-eastward; and, on the 23rd, we lay at rest with four other ships. The day following, having sawn a place for the ship in a thin floe, we forced forward between two large masses, where bay-ice, unconsolidated, had been compressed till it had become ten or twelve feet thick. We were assisted by a hundred men from the accompanying ships, which followed close in our rear. After applying all our mechanical powers during eight or nine hours, we passed the strait of about a furlong in length, and immediately the ice collapsed, and riveted the ships of our companions to the spot. We advanced on various winding courses to the distance of several miles, and then discovered a continuation of the navigation between two immense sheets of ice, but the channel was so narrow and intricate, that, for the distance of near a mile, it did not appear more than from ten to twenty yards in width. The prospect was, indeed, appalling; but, perceiving indications of the enlargement of the passage rather than the contrary, we advanced under a press of sail, driving aside some disengaged lumps of ice that opposed us, and shortly accomplished our wishes in safety. Here an enlivening prospect presented itself; to the extreme limits of the horizon no interruption was visible. We made a predetermined signal to the ships we had left, indicative of our hope of speedy release. In two hours, however, we were disappointed by meeting the fields in the act of collapsing, and completely barring our progress. As the distance across was scarcely a mile, and the sea, to appearance, clear beyond it, the interruption was most tantalizing. We waited at the point of union, and, on the morning of the 26th of May, our anxiety was happily relieved by the wished-for division of the ice. The ship, propelled by a brisk wind, darted through the strait, and entered a sea, which we considered the termination of our difficulties. After steering three hours to the south-eastward, we were concerned to discover our conclusions had been premature. An immense pack opened on our view, stretching directly across our path. There was no alternative but forcing through it; we therefore pushed forward into the least connected part. By availing ourselves of every advantage of sailing, where sailing was practicable, and boring or drifting where the pieces of ice lay close together, we at length reached the leeward part of a narrow channel, in which we had to ply a considerable distance against the wind. When performing this, the wind, which had hitherto blown a brisk breeze from the north, increased to a strong gale. The ship was placed in such a critical situation that we could not, for above an hour, accomplish any reduction of the sails; and while I was personally engaged performing the duty of a pilot on the topmast-head, the bending of the mast was so uncommon that I was seriously alarmed for its stability. At length, we were enabled to reef our sails, and for some time proceeded with less danger. Our direction was now east, then north for several hours, then easterly, ten or fifteen miles; when, after eighteen hours of the most difficult and occasionally hazardous sailing, in which the ship received some hard blows from the ice, after pursuing a tedious course nearly ninety miles, and accomplishing a distance on a direct north-east course of about forty miles, we found ourselves at the very margin of the sea, separated only by a narrow sea-stream. The sea was so great without, and the wind so violent, that we durst not hazard an attempt to force through this remaining obstacle. After waiting about thirty hours, on the morning of the 28th of May, the weather cleared, and the wind abated. The sea-stream was now augmented to upwards of a mile broad. One place alone was visible where the breadth was less considerable, and through it we accomplished our final escape into the open sea.

I have thus been minute in the relation of our extrication from an alarming, though not very uncommon state of besetment, in order to give a faint idea of the difficulties and dangers which those engaged in the whale-fishery have occasionally to encounter, as well as to illustrate the manner in which ships are carried away from their original situation by the regularity of the drift of ice to the south-westward. The life of the mariner is one always of great labour and peril, but in navigating these arctic seas he is exposed to sudden and peculiar dangers.

It is possible that the title and contents of this volume may allure to its perusal some who look forward to exposure to dangers such as those which are here described. They surely will not deem it intrusive to be reminded that the most important preparation for such undertakings, as well as for the whole of life, is to surrender the heart to that Saviour who has died to redeem his servants from guilt and ruin. The pardon and peace which he freely confers on all who come to him, are the only safe comforts of a departing soul. It is his blood only that cleanses from all sin; it is his Spirit that renews and sanctifies the mind; and whatever pain or accident may befal the body, there can be “no condemnation” in time or in eternity “to them which are in Christ Jesus.” The message of God to man is the offer of a free salvation, through the death of his glorious Son. This offer must determine the eternal condition of all to whom it is in God’s mercy revealed. “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life!” Reader, do you understand, and have you accepted, this gracious message?