The North Atlantic telegraph via the Færöe Isles, Iceland, and Greenland

In Short

This collection of papers and proceedings from the Royal Geographical Society chronicles the 1860–1861 expedition to establish a telegraph route between Europe and North America via the North Atlantic. Through scientific surveys of ocean depths and overland terrain in Iceland and Greenland, the work argues that a "north-about" cable is not only possible but safer than southern alternatives. It captures a pivotal moment of Victorian optimism, where geography and electrical engineering meet to shrink the globe, serving as a primary record of the challenges facing early subsea telegraphy.

The Story

The narrative begins in early 1861 with the Royal Geographical Society gathering to hear the results of a government-backed initiative. The goal is to prove that the North Atlantic, previously thought too treacherous, offers a viable path for the electric telegraph. The argument is framed as a strategic necessity, supported by the British government and Lord Palmerston, who dispatched the steamship Bulldog to map the ocean floor. Simultaneously, private promoters outfitted the Fox—a vessel already famous for the Franklin search—to survey potential landing sites.

The story progresses through the specific reports of the lead explorers. Sir Leopold M‘Clintock details the soundings taken by the Bulldog, providing data on water depths and the nature of the seabed between Labrador, Greenland, and Iceland. He argues that the deep, cold waters of the north are actually an advantage, as they are largely devoid of the marine life and high temperatures that damaged earlier cables in the Mediterranean. His optimism is bolstered by Captain Allen Young, who reports on the physical landing places in the Færöe Isles and Iceland, finding harbors that are well-protected from the open sea.

The focus then shifts to the land itself. Dr. John Rae, an intrepid explorer of the Arctic, details his harrowing yet productive treks across the Færöes and Iceland, where he evaluates the feasibility of stringing wires across volcanic lava fields and glacial rivers. He describes the use of unique swing-bridges and the necessity of working with the local terrain, ultimately concluding that the physical challenges, while significant, are manageable.

The narrative reaches its most complex point with the debate over Greenland. Experts discuss the presence of "store ice" and icebergs that threaten to drag or crush cables. The book presents a wealth of testimonials from long-term Danish residents of Greenland, such as Mr. Möller, who weigh in on the seasonal movements of pack ice. They collectively argue that the fiords near Julianshaab offer deep, secure water where cables can be laid during the brief but reliable autumn windows.

The volume concludes with a technical demonstration of the telegraphic circuits, emphasizing that the science of "coupling" stations is well-understood. The final sentiment is one of professional triumph; the explorers and the Society agree that the survey has effectively cleared away the mysteries of the North. The book ends not with a completed cable, but with the assertion that the physical and technical foundations have been laid, leaving only the work of implementation to those with the courage to proceed.

How It Unfolds

The proposal takes shape The book opens with the formal meetings of the Royal Geographical Society, where the strategic logic of a northern route is presented to the scientific community. The initial papers establish the political and financial backing provided by the British government and the selection of experienced Arctic commanders to lead the survey.

Mapping the deep Sir Leopold M‘Clintock provides the results of the Bulldog’s soundings, arguing that the cold, deep seabed is ideal for cable preservation. He addresses technical concerns regarding cable insulation and the potential for corrosion, framing them as engineering hurdles rather than insurmountable barriers.

The land expeditions Dr. John Rae details his travels through the Færöe Isles and Iceland, describing the practical realities of constructing a landline across rugged, uneven landscapes. His narrative highlights the cooperation of local populations and the discovery of natural routes that bypass the most treacherous terrain.

Taming the Greenland ice The focus shifts to the southern coast of Greenland, where contributors address the persistent threat of icebergs and drift ice. Through correspondence and expert testimony, the book asserts that there are specific windows of time when the coast remains clear enough for safe cable deployment.

Final consensus The concluding papers and testimonials synthesize the findings of the Fox and Bulldog expeditions. The book ends by declaring the route practicable, emphasizing that international cooperation and scientific perseverance have successfully charted the previously unknown North Atlantic.

The People

The account centers on a small group of seasoned explorers who bring both their expertise and their reputations to the project. Sir Leopold M‘Clintock, the commander of the Bulldog, acts as the voice of scientific authority, grounded in his history with Arctic navigation. He is pragmatic, focusing on the hydrography of the deep sea and dismissing fears of underwater damage with technical explanations.

Captain Allen Young, commander of the Fox, serves as the logistical expert. He is tasked with the delicate work of finding harbors that balance accessibility with protection from the elements. His observations on the Færöes and Iceland provide the necessary empirical evidence that the shore-ends of the cables can survive the impact of tides and winter gales.

Dr. John Rae is the most visible personality, as he provides the narrative of the land expeditions. He is undaunted by the brutal conditions of Iceland, writing with the confidence of a man who has already conquered the Arctic. He sees the island not as a barrier, but as a series of obstacles to be solved with horses, guides, and careful planning.

Finally, the residents of Greenland—such as the Governor Mr. Möller and the Inspector Dr. Rink—provide the local perspective. Their letters are the crucial, tempering element of the book. They do not share the explorers' blind optimism but instead offer a cautious, experienced view of the ice, which ultimately provides the project with the credibility it needs to move from a theory to a plan.

In Its Own Voice

"The fiord appears clean and clear, with deep water close into either shore."

(Captain Young describes the geographical suitability of Westmanshaven for a cable landing.)

"Around the coast of Greenland, westward of Cape Farewell, there are two distinct descriptions, or rather kinds, of drift ice ever approaching but never meeting together."

(The author explains the complex ice patterns that dictate when a telegraph cable can be safely laid.)

"I think that if application be made to the civil engineers, there are men of talent who would inform them instantly how they were to obviate it."

(During the discussion, an attendee argues that any remaining technical issues, such as cable corrosion, are minor compared to the magnitude of the achievement.)

What It's Really About

The book is fundamentally an argument for the expansion of Victorian infrastructure into the most extreme environments on Earth. It grapples with the transition from the age of exploration to the age of instantaneous global communication. At its core, the text asks whether human ingenuity can overcome the "teeth of nature." It explores the tension between scientific optimism and the brutal reality of the Arctic, arguing that if one masters the local seasonal rhythms—the movement of ice, the shifting of glaciers, and the flow of tides—the planet itself becomes a manageable machine. It is a testament to the belief that with enough maps, soundings, and persistence, the barriers of distance and climate can be rendered obsolete.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of technology or Arctic exploration will find this a fascinating, if dense, artifact. It provides a rare, transparent view into how 19th-century scientific societies operated, complete with their formal language and rigid social protocols. You get the sense of a world that is shrinking, a place where the map is being filled in by men in wool coats taking soundings from the decks of steamships.

However, the book is not a casual read. It is a collection of technical reports, meeting minutes, and letters, meaning it lacks the narrative drive of a modern history. The language is formal and occasionally repetitive, reflecting the Victorian tendency to document every minute observation. You will encounter period-specific attitudes toward the "native" populations of Greenland and the Færöes, which are framed by the paternalistic outlook of 1860s colonial administration.

What sticks with you is the sheer scale of the vision. Reading it feels like watching the birth of the internet in slow motion, played out through depth-sounders and horseback treks across glaciers. It is a stark reminder that our current interconnected world was built on the back of immense, often dangerous, and remarkably granular geographic research. If you appreciate the "how-it-was-done" side of history, you will find this a rewarding, if challenging, primary source.