British scientists also came to Paris, and whenever they arrived, they knocked on Humboldt’s door. A former secretary of the Royal Society, Charles Bladgen, visited, as did a future president, Humphry Davy. Maybe more than anybody else, Davy lived what Humboldt was preaching because he was a poet
Humboldt enjoyed meeting other scientists to exchange ideas and share information, but life in Europe increasingly frustrated him. Throughout these years of political upheaval he had remained restless and, with Europe so deeply torn, he felt that there was little holding him. ‘My view of the world is dismal,’ he told Goethe. He missed the tropics and was only going to feel better ‘when I live in the hot zone’.
1 In 1810 Humboldt moved into an apartment that he shared with Karl Sigismund Kunth, the nephew of his former tutor and a German botanist, whom he had commissioned to work on the botanical publications, relieving – after some discussions and rows – Bonpland from the task.
12
Revolutions and Nature
I was coming along, cloaked in the mantle of Iris, from the place where the torrential Orinoco pays tribute to the God of waters. I had visited the enchanted springs of Amazonia, straining to climb to the watchtower of the universe. I sought the tracks of La Condamine and Humboldt, following them boldly. Nothing could stop me. I reached the glacial heights, and the atmosphere took my breath away. No human foot had ever blemished the diamond crown placed by Eternity’s hands on the sublime temples of this lofty Andean peak. I said to myself: Iris’s rainbow cloak has served as my banner. I’ve carried it through infernal regions. It has ploughed rivers and seas and risen to the gigantic shoulders of the Andes. The terrain had levelled off at the feet of Colombia, and not even time could hold back freedom’s march. The war goddess Bellona had been humbled by the brilliance of Iris. So why should I hesitate to tread on the ice-white hair of this giant on earth? Indeed I shall! And caught up in a spiritual tremor I had never before experienced, and which seemed to me a kind of divine frenzy, I left Humboldt’s tracks behind and began to leave my own marks on the eternal crystals girding Chimborazo.
Simón Bolívar, ‘My Delirium on Chimborazo’, 1822
IT WAS NOT Humboldt but his friend Simón Bolívar who returned to South America. Three years after they had first met in Paris in 1804, Bolívar had left Europe, burning with Enlightenment ideas of liberty, the separation of powers and the concept of a social contract between a people and their rulers. As he had stepped on South American soil, Bolívar had been fuelled by his vow on Monte Sacro in Rome to free his country. But the fight against the Spanish would be a long battle fed by the blood of patriots. It would be a rebellion that saw close friends betray each other. Brutal, messy and often destructive, it would take almost two decades to remove the Spanish from the continent – and it would eventually see Bolívar rule as a dictator.
It was also a fight that was invigorated by Humboldt’s writings, almost as if his descriptions of nature and people made the colonists appreciate how unique and magnificent their continent was. Humboldt’s books and ideas would feed into the liberation of Latin America – from his criticism of colonialism and slavery to his portrayal of the majestic landscapes. In 1809, two years after its first publication in Germany, Humboldt’s
Chimborazo and Carquairazo in today’s Ecuador – one of the many striking illustrations in Humboldt’s