The Genealogy of the Scientific Sublime: Glaciers, Mountains and the Alternating Modes of Representation

Abstract

On 19 June 1741, a group of young British travellers set out for what was to be an epoch-making expedition to the glaciers of Chamonix. The party consisted of William Windham, his tutor Edward Stillingfleet, Robert Price, Thomas Hamilton, Seventh Earl of Hadinton, and four other men. This was part of their Grand Tour, but they intended to make a serious scientific investigation into the glaciers.¹ The glaciers of Bern had already been studied by Johann Jakob Scheuchzer in his Itinera alpina tria, published in London in 1708 with a dedication to the Royal Society. But no investigation had yet been made into the Mer de Glace at Chamonix. In An Account of the Glacieres or Ice Alps in Savoy (1744), Windham recorded how he was driven by strong ‘curiosity’ to conduct an arduous five-hour journey to the glaciers whose ‘Beauty and Variety’ would provide rich subjects for skilful paintings and ‘lively and poetical’ imagination (1). On the top of the Montenvers, about 7,000 feet high, he embraced the mixed feelings of ‘terror’ and ‘pleasure’ inspired by the ‘extraordinary’ view:

We had an uninterrupted View quite to the Bottom of the Mountain, and the Steepness of the Descent, join’d to the Height where we were, made a View terrible enough to make most People’s Heads turn. In short, after climbing with great Labour for four Hours and three Quarters, we got to the Top of the Mountain; from whence we had the Pleasure of beholding Objects of an extraordinary Nature. We were on the Top of a Mountain, which, as well as we could judge, was at least twice as high as mount Salve, from thence we had a full View of the Glacieres. I own to you that I am extremely at a Loss how to give a right Idea of it; as I know no one thing which I have ever seen that has the least Resemblance to it. (Windham 7–8)