The Invention of Nature

At the end of July, more than three months after leaving Berlin, Humboldt reached Tobolsk – 1,800 miles from St Petersburg and the most easterly point on the prescribed route – but it was still not wild enough for his taste. Humboldt had not come this far only to have to turn around. He had other plans. Instead of travelling back to St Petersburg as previously agreed, Humboldt now ignored Cancrin’s instructions and added a detour of 2,000 miles. He wanted see the Altai Mountains in the east where Russia, China and Mongolia met, as the counterpart to his observations in the Andes.

As he had failed to see the Himalaya, the Altai was as close as he could get to collecting data from a mountain range in Central Asia. The results of the Russia expedition, he later wrote, were based on these ‘analogies and contrasts’. The Altai was the reason why he had endured so many uncomfortable overnight rides in the rattling carriage. They had managed to make up so much time that he thought he might just extend the itinerary without getting into too much trouble. He had already written to Wilhelm from Yekaterinburg about his intentions, but he had told no one else. He only informed Cancrin about the ‘small extension’ of their route on the day before they left Tobolsk – well aware that Cancrin, far away in St Petersburg, could do nothing at all about it.

Humboldt tried to placate Cancrin by promising to visit yet more mines, also mentioning that he hoped to find some rare plants and animals. This was his last chance before ‘his death’, he added with melodramatic swagger. Instead of turning back, Humboldt now continued east through the Baraba steppes towards Barnaul and the western slopes of the Altai Mountains. By the time Cancrin received the letter almost a month later, Humboldt had long reached his destination.

Once Humboldt had left Tobolsk and abandoned the imposed itinerary, he finally began to enjoy himself. Age hadn’t calmed him. His team was astounded at how the fifty-nine-year-old could walk for hours ‘without any sign of fatigue’, dressed always in a dark frock coat with a white necktie and a round hat. He walked carefully but determinedly and steadily. The more strenuous the journey, the more Humboldt relished it. At first sight this expedition might not have been as exciting as his South American adventures, but now they were entering much wilder scenery. Thousands of miles away from the scientific centres of Europe, Humboldt now found himself travelling through a harsh landscape. The steppes stretched out east for about 1,000 miles between Tobolsk and Barnaul in the foothills of the Altai range. As they continued along the Siberian Highway, the villages became fewer and further apart – still frequent enough to change their horses – but in between the land was often deserted.

There was a beauty in this emptiness. The summer blossom had turned the plains into a sea of reds and blues. Humboldt saw the tall candle-like reddish spikes of willow herb (Epilobium angustifolia) and the bright blues of delphiniums (Delphinium elatum). Elsewhere the colour came from the vivid reds of Maltese Cross (Lychnis chalcedonica) which seemed to set the steppes on fire, but there were still few wild animals and birds.

The thermometer climbed from 6°C at night to 30°C during the day. Humboldt and his team were plagued by mosquitoes, just as he and Bonpland had been during their Orinoco expedition some thirty years previously. To protect themselves, they now wore heavy leather masks. These masks had a small opening for the eyes covered with mesh made of horsehair to see through – they protected against the pernicious insects but also trapped the air. It was unbearably hot. None of this mattered. Humboldt was in a great mood because he was liberated from the controlling hand of the Russian administration. They travelled day and night, sleeping in their jolting carriages. It felt like a ‘sea voyage on land’, Humboldt wrote, as they sailed across the monotonous plains as if on an ocean. They averaged more than a hundred miles a day, and sometimes covered almost 200 miles in twenty-four hours. The Siberian Highway was as good as the best roads in Europe. They travelled faster, Humboldt proudly noted, than any European express courier.