grandfathers
tossed water into the air, it “would be Turned into Ice e’re it came unto the Ground.”)
Mather ascribed the changing climate to the settlers’ destruction of forests and their
cultivation of ever-greater tracts of land, which presumably allowed the sun’s rays
to better penetrate and warm the earth.
Nearly a century later, Thomas Jefferson seconded Mather’s deforestation theory, although
the two men would have agreed on little else. An obsessive record-keeper who spent
a lifetime searching for meaning in America’s physical environment, Jefferson faithfully
recorded the temperature nearly every day—and often twice a day—for fifty years. (He
even noted the weather in Philadelphia on July 4, 1776, when members of the Continental
Congress signed the Declaration of Independence: 76 degrees at one o’clock in the
afternoon.) Based upon his personal observations and anecdotal evidence, Jefferson
suggested in 1781 that Virginia’s climate was indeed changing. Not only were winters
less severe than they had been several decades earlier, but summers were cooler than
before. “Both heats and colds are become much more moderate within the memory even
of the middle-aged. Snows are less frequent and less deep.… The elderly inform me
the earth used to be covered with snow about three months in every year. The rivers,
which then seldom failed to freeze over in the course of the winter, scarcely ever
do so now.” Twenty-five years later, this notion apparently had become so widespread
that Jefferson could write that “it is a common opinion that the climates of the several
States, of our Union, have undergone a sensible change since the dates of their first
settlements; that the degrees both of cold and heat are moderated.”
Among those who concurred were French historian and philosopher Constantin-François
de Chasseboeuf (who renamed himself the Comte de Volney). After traveling through
the United States in 1795–98, Volney attributed the perceived climate change in North
America to deforestation. To support his theory, he quoted an early history of Vermont,
which claimed that conditions “in the cultivated part of the country” had changed
dramatically since English settlers first arrived in New England: “The seasons are
different, the weather more variable, the winter become shorter, and interrupted by
great and sudden thaws. Spring is a scene of continual vicissitude … Summer is not
so hot, but it lasts longer. Autumn is most tardy in beginning and ending … nor does
winter become settled and severe before the end of December.”
“It is a popular opinion that the temperature of the winter season, in northern latitudes,
has suffered a material change, and become warmer in modern, than it was in ancient
times,” concluded Noah Webster in a speech to the Connecticut Academy of Sciences
in 1799. “This opinion has been adopted and maintained by many writers of reputation”—Webster
cited Jefferson, Dr. Samuel Williams, a weather expert and former Harvard professor,
and Massachusetts physician Edward Augustus Holyoke—“indeed, I know not whether any
person, in this age, has ever questioned the fact.” Webster himself believed that
“the weather, in modern winters, is more consistent, than when the earth was covered
with wood, at the first settlement of Europeans in this country.” The warm weather
of autumn, he argued, extended further into the winter months due to “the greater
quantity of heat accumulated in the earth in summer, since the ground has been cleared
of wood, and exposed to the rays of the sun.” Similarly, “the exposure of its uncovered
surface to the cold atmosphere” allowed frost to penetrate the ground to a greater
depth in winter, which appeared to delay the advent of summer weather.
Nonsense, countered William Dunbar, a Scottish-born scientist who had emigrated to