The dunes of Gascony, which sometimes exceed three hundred feet in height, present the same concavity and convexity of vertical cross-section. The slopes of these dunes are much steeper than those of the Netherlands and the Danish coast; for while all observers agree in assigning to the seaward and landward faces of those latter, respectively, angles of from 5° to 12°, and 30° with the horizon, the corresponding faces of the dunes of Gascony present angles of from 10° to 25°, and 50° to 60°.—Laval, Mémoire sur les Dunes de Gascogne, Annales des Ponts et Chaussées, 1847, 2me sémestre.
[439] Krause, speaking of the dunes on the coast of Prussia, says: "Their origin belongs to three different periods, in which important changes in the relative level of sea and land have unquestionably taken place. * * * Except in the deep depressions between them, the dunes are everywhere sprinkled, to a considerable height, with brown oxydulated iron, which has penetrated into the sand to the depth of from three to eighteen inches, and colored it red. * * * Above the iron is a stratum of sand differing in composition from ordinary sea sand, and on this, growing woods are always found. * * * The gradually accumulated forest soil occurs in beds of from one to three feet thick, and changes, proceeding upward, from gray sand to black humus." Even on the third or seaward range, the sand grasses appear and thrive luxuriantly, at least on the west coast, though. Krause doubts whether the dunes of the east coast were ever thus protected.—Der Dünenbau, pp. 8, 11.
[440] Laval, Mémoire sur les Dunes de Gascogne, Annales des Ponts et Chaussées, 1847, 2me sémestre, p. 231. The same opinion had been expressed by Brémontier, Annales des Ponts et Chaussées, 1833, 1er sémestre, p. 185.
[441] "In the Middle Ages," says Willibald Alexis, as quoted by Müller, Das Buch der Pflanzenwelt i, p. 16, "the Nehrung was extending itself further, and the narrow opening near Lochstadt had filled itself up with sand. A great pine forest bound with its roots the dune sand and the heath uninterruptedly from Danzig to Pillau. King Frederick William I was once in want of money. A certain Herr von Korff promised to procure it for him, without loan or taxes, if he could be allowed to remove something quite useless. He thinned out the forests of Prussia, which then, indeed, possessed little pecuniary value; but he felled the entire woods of the Frische Nehrung, so far as they lay within the Prussian territory. The financial operation was a success. The king had money, but in the elementary operation which resulted from it, the state received irreparable injury. The sea winds rush over the bared hills; the Frische Haff is half-choked with sand; the channel between Elbing, the sea, and Königsberg is endangered, and the fisheries in the Haff injured. The operation of Herr von Korff brought the king 200,000 thalers. The state would now willingly expend millions to restore the forests again."
[442] Staring, Voormaals en Thans, p. 231. Had the dunes of the Netherlandish and French coasts, at the period of the Roman invasion, resembled the moving sand hills of the present day, it is inconceivable that they could have escaped the notice of so acute a physical geographer as Strabo; and the absolute silence of Cæsar, Ptolemy, and the encyclopædic Pliny, respecting them, would be not less inexplicable.
The Old Northern language, the ancient tongue of Denmark, though rich in terms descriptive of natural scenery, had no name for dune, nor do I think the sand hills of the coast are anywhere noticed in Icelandic literature. The modern Icelanders, in treating of the dunes of Jutland, call them klettr, hill, cliff, and the Danish klit is from that source. The word Düne is also of recent introduction into German. Had the dunes been distinguished from other hillocks, in ancient times, by so remarkable a feature as the propensity to drift, they would certainly have acquired a specific name in both Old Northern and German. So long as they were wooded knolls, they needed no peculiar name; when they became formidable, from the destruction of the woods which confined them, they acquired a designation.
[443] The sands of Cape Cod were partially, if not completely, covered with vegetation by nature. Dr. Dwight, describing the dunes as they were in 1800, says: "Some of them are covered with beach grass; some fringed with whortleberry bushes; and some tufted with a small and singular growth of oaks. * * * The parts of this barrier, which are covered with whortleberry bushes and with oaks, have been either not at all, or very little blown. The oaks, particularly, appear to be the continuation of the forests originally formed on this spot. * * * They wore all the marks of extreme age; were, in some instances, already decayed, and in others decaying; were hoary with moss, and were deformed by branches, broken and wasted, not by violence, but by time."—Travels, iii, p. 91.
[444] Bergsöe (Reventlovs Virksomhed, ii, 3) states that the dunes on the west coast of Jutland were stationary before the destruction of the forests to the east of them. The felling of the tall trees removed the resistance to the lower currents of the westerly winds, and the sands have since buried a great extent of fertile soil. See also same work, ii, p. 124.
[445] "We must, therefore, not be surprised to see the people here deal as gingerly with their dunes, as if treading among eggs. He who is lucky enough to own a molehill of dune pets it affectionately, and spends his substance in cherishing and fattening it. That fair, fertile, rich province, the peninsula of Eiderstädt in the south of Friesland, has, on the point toward the sea, only a tiny row of dunes, some six miles long or so; but the people talk of their fringe of sand hills as if it were a border set with pearls. They look upon it as their best defence against Neptune. They have connected it with their system of dikes, and for years have kept sentries posted to protect it against wanton injury."—J. G. Kohl, Die Inseln u. Marschen Schleswig-Holsteins, ii, p. 115.
[446] Sand banks sometimes connect themselves with the coast at both ends, and thus cut off a portion of the sea. In this case, as well as when salt water is enclosed by sea dikes, the water thus separated from the ocean gradually becomes fresh, or at least brackish. The Haffs, or large expanses of fresh water in Eastern Prussia—which are divided from the Baltic by narrow sand banks called Nehrungen, or, at sheltered points of the coast, by fluviatile deposits called Werders—all have one or more open passages, through which the water of the rivers that supply them at last finds its way to the sea.