This important geological fact was first ascertained on the coast of Sweden, where the peculiar configuration of the shore makes it easy to appreciate slight changes in the relative level of land and water. For the continent is fringed with countless rocky islands, called the ‘skär,’ within which boats and small vessels sail in smooth water even when the sea without is strongly agitated. But the navigation is very intricate, and the pilot must possess a perfect knowledge of the breadth and depth of every narrow channel, and the position of innumerable sunken rocks. On such a coast even a slight change of level could not fail to become known to the mariner, and to attract the attention of the learned, as soon as the book of nature began to be more accurately studied.
Early in the last century the Swedish naturalist Celsius collected numerous observations, all pointing to the fact of a slow elevation of the land. Rocks both on the shore of the Baltic and the German Ocean, known to have been once sunken reefs, were in his time above water; small islands in the Gulf of Bothnia had been joined to the continent, and old fishing grounds deserted, as being too shallow or entirely dried up. These changes of level, which he estimated at about three feet in a century, Celsius attributed to a sinking of the waters of the Baltic, owing possibly to the channel, by which it discharges its surplus waters into the Atlantic, having been gradually widened and deepened by the waves and currents. But the lowering of level would in that case have been uniform and universal over that inland sea, and the waters could not have sunk at Torneo while they retained their former level at Copenhagen, Wismar, Stralsund, and other towns which are now as close to the water’s edge as at the time of their foundation. Playfair (1802) and Leopold von Buch (1807) first attributed the change of level to the slow and insensible rising of the land, and the subsequent investigations of Sir Charles Lyell in 1834 have placed the fact beyond a doubt.
The attention of geologists having once been directed to the partial upheaval of the Scandinavian peninsula, similar facts were soon pointed out in other countries. At Bourgneuf, near La Rochelle, the remains of a ship wrecked on an oyster bank in the year 1752, now lie in a cultivated field, fifteen feet above the level of the sea; and, within a period of twenty-five years the parish has gained at least 1,500 acres, a very acceptable gift of the subterranean plutonic power. Port Bahaud, where formerly the Dutchmen used to take in cargoes of salt, is now 9,000 feet from the sea, and the Island of Olonne is at present surrounded only by swamps and meadows. These and similar phenomena, such as the constant rise of the chalk cliffs at Marennes, cannot possibly be explained by recent driftings, but evidently proceed from a slow upheaval of the coasts and the adjacent sea-bed.
On the opposite shores of the Atlantic, we find Newfoundland undergoing a similar process of elevation; for cliffs over which, thirty or forty years ago, schooners used to sail with perfect safety, are now quite close to the surface; and in the Pacific the depth of the channel leading to the port of Honolulu is gradually decreasing from the same cause.
While many coasts thus show signs of progressive elevation, others afford no less striking proofs of subsidence, frequently in close proximity to regions of upheaval.
Thus on the south-west coast of England, in Cornwall, Devon, and Somerset, submarine forests, consisting of the species still flourishing in the neighbourhood, are of such frequent occurrence that, according to Sir Henry de la Beche, ‘it is difficult not to find traces of them at the mouths of all the numerous valleys which open upon the sea.’ Sometimes they are covered with mud or sand, and generally the roots are found in the situation where they originally grew, while the trunks have been horizontally levelled. At Bann Bridge, specimens of ancient Roman pottery have been discovered twelve feet below the level of the sea, and the remains of an old Roman road, now submerged six feet deep, prove that the subsidence of the land has been going on since the times of Julius Cæsar and Agricola.
On the east coast the phenomenon is still more striking, particularly in the Wash, that shallow bay between Lincolnshire and Norfolk on whose opposite shores a submarine forest extends, the trunks and stubbles of which become apparent at ebb-tide. On the coasts of Normandy and Brittany we likewise find traces of depression, pointing to some future time when perhaps many a bluff headland, now boldly fronting the ocean, may have disappeared beneath the waves.
Huts of the Esquimaux and of the early Danish colonists on the coast of Greenland, now submerged at high tide, could not possibly have been originally constructed in so inconvenient a situation; and at Puynipet, in the South Sea, habitations sunk beneath the water likewise prove a gradual subsidence of the land.
On many coasts and islands modern scientific explorers have hewn marks in the rock, to enable future generations to judge of the changes which are slowly but surely altering the configuration of the land and tracing new boundaries to the ocean. Had our forefathers left us similar memorials, we should know much more about the oscillatory movements of the earth-rind than we know now; but, unfortunately, experimental natural philosophy is but of recent date, and the marks chiselled out upon the Swedish rocks in the years 1731 and 1752 are the earliest records by which the chronological progress of elevation or subsidence can be distinctly ascertained.
This phenomenon, which has played so important a part in the physical annals of our globe, having once been accurately determined, enables the geologist to explain many facts for which, before it became known, it was impossible to account.