1876 may be regarded as having finally decided the question whether
the North Pole of the earth is accessible by the route through Smith’s
Sound—a route which may conveniently and properly be called the
American route. Attacks may hereafter be made on the Polar fastness
from other directions; but it is exceedingly unlikely that this
country, at any rate, will again attempt to reach the Pole along
the line of attack followed by Captain Nares’s expedition. I may be
forgiven, perhaps, for regarding Arctic voyages made by the seamen
of other nations as less likely to be successful than those made by
my own countrymen. It is not mere national prejudice which suggests
this opinion. It is the simple fact that hitherto the most successful
approaches towards both the Northern and the Southern Poles have been
made by British sailors. Nearly a quarter of a century has passed since
Sir E. Parry made the nearest approach to the North Pole recorded up
to that time; and although, in the interval between Parry’s expedition
and Nares’s, no expedition had been sent out from our shores with
the object of advancing towards the Pole, while America, Sweden,
Russia, and Germany sent out several, Parry’s attempt still remained
unsurpassed and unequalled. At length it has been surpassed, but it has
been by his own countrymen. In like manner, no nation has yet succeeded
in approaching the Antarctic Pole so nearly, within many miles, as did
Captain Sir J. C. Ross in 1844. Considering these circumstances, and
remembering the success which rewarded the efforts of Great Britain
in the search for the North-West Passage, it cannot be regarded as
national prejudice to assert that events indicate the seamen of this
country as exceptionally fitted to contend successfully against the
difficulties and the dangers of Arctic exploration. Should England,
then, give up the attempt to reach the North Pole by way of Smith’s
Sound and its northerly prolongation, it may fairly be considered
unlikely that the Pole will ever be reached in that direction.
It may be well to examine the relative probable chances of success
along other routes which have either not been so thoroughly tried, or
have been tried under less favourable conditions.
Passing over the unfortunate expedition under Hugh Willoughby in 1553,
the first attempt to penetrate within the Polar domain was made by
Henry Hudson in 1607. The route selected was one which many regard
(and I believe correctly) as the one on which there is the best chance
of success; namely, the route across the sea lying to the west of
Spitzbergen. That Hudson, in the clumsy galleons of Elizabeth’s time,
should have penetrated to within eight degrees and a half of the Pole,
or to a distance only exceeding Nares’s nearest approach by about 130
miles, proves conclusively, we think, that with modern ships, and
especially with the aid of steam, this route might be followed with
much better prospect of success than that which was adopted for Nares’s
expedition. If the reader will examine a map of the Arctic regions he
will find that the western shores of Spitzbergen and the north-eastern
shores of Greenland, as far as they have been yet explored, are
separated by about 33 degrees of longitude, equivalent on the 80th
parallel of latitude to about 335 miles. Across the whole breadth of
this sea Arctic voyagers have attempted to sail northwards beyond the
80th parallel, but no one has yet succeeded in the attempt except on
the eastern side of that sea. It was here that Hudson—fortunately for
him—directed his attack; and he passed a hundred miles to the north
of the 80th parallel, being impeded and finally stopped by the packed
ice around the north-western shores of Spitzbergen.
Let us consider the fortunes of other attempts which have been made to
approach the Pole in this direction.
In 1827 Captain (afterwards Sir Edward) Parry, who had already four
times passed beyond the Arctic Circle—viz., in 1818, 1819, 1821–23,
and 1824–25—made an attempt to reach the North Pole by way of
Spitzbergen. His plan was to follow Hudson’s route until stopped by
ice; then to leave his ship, and cross the ice-field with sledges
drawn by Esquimaux dogs, and, taking boats along with the party, to
cross whatever open water they might find. In this way he succeeded
in reaching latitude 82° 45´ north, the highest ever attained until
Nares’s expedition succeeded in crossing the 83rd parallel. Parry found
that the whole of the ice-field over which his party were laboriously
travelling northwards was being carried bodily southwards, and that at
length the distance they were able to travel in a day was equalled by
the southerly daily drift of the ice-field, so that they made no real
progress. He gave up further contest, and returned to his ship the
_Hecla_.
It is important to inquire whether the southerly drift which stopped
Parry was due to northerly winds or to a southerly current; and if
to the latter cause, whether this current probably affects the whole
extent of the sea in which Parry’s ice-field was drifting. We know
that his party were exposed, during the greater part of their advance
from Spitzbergen, to northerly winds. Now the real velocity of these
winds must have been greater than their apparent velocity, because the
ice-field was moving southwards. Had this not been the case, or had the
ice-field been suddenly stopped, the wind would have seemed stronger;
precisely as it seems stronger to passengers on board a sailing vessel
when, after being before the wind for a time, she is brought across
the wind. The ice-field was clearly travelling before the wind, but
not nearly so fast as the wind; and therefore there is good reason
for believing that the motion of the ice-field was due to the wind
alone. If we suppose this to have been really the case, then, as there
is no reason for believing that northerly winds prevail uniformly in
the Arctic regions, we must regard Parry’s defeat as due to mischance.
Another explorer might have southerly instead of northerly winds, and
so might be assisted instead of impeded in his advance towards the
Pole. Had this been Parry’s fortune, or even if the winds had proved
neutral, he would have approached nearer to the Pole than Nares. For
Parry reckoned that he had lost more than a hundred miles by the
southerly drift of the ice-field, by which amount at least he would
have advanced further north. But that was not all; for there can be
little doubt that he would have continued his efforts longer but for
the Sisyphæan nature of the struggle. It is true he was nearer home
when he turned back than he would have been but for the drift, and one
of his reasons for turning back was the consideration of the distance
which his men had to travel in returning. But he was chiefly influenced
(so far as the return journey was concerned) by the danger caused by
the movable nature of the ice-field, which might at any time begin to
travel northwards, or eastwards, or westwards.
If we suppose that not the wind but Arctic currents carried the
ice-field southwards, we must yet admit the probability—nay, almost
the certainty—that such currents are only local, and occupy but a part
of the breadth of the North Atlantic seas in those high latitudes. The
general drift of the North Atlantic surface-water is unquestionably
not towards the south but towards the north; and whatever part we
suppose the Arctic ice to perform in regulating the system of oceanic
circulation—whether, with Carpenter, we consider the descent of
the cooled water as the great moving cause of the entire system of
circulation, or assign to that motion a less important office (which
seems to me the juster opinion)—we must in any case regard the Arctic
seas as a region of surface indraught. The current flowing from those
seas, which caused (on the hypothesis we are for the moment adopting)
the southwardly motion of Parry’s ice-field, must therefore be regarded
as in all probability an exceptional phenomenon of those seas. By
making the advance from a more eastwardly or more westwardly part of
Spitzbergen, a northerly current would probably be met with; or rather,
the motion of the ice-field would indicate the presence of such a
current, for I question very much whether open water would anywhere be
found north of the 83rd parallel. In that case, a party might advance
in one longitude and return in another, selecting for their return
the longitude in which (always according to our present hypothesis
that currents caused the drift) Parry found that a southerly current
underlay his route across the ice. On the whole, however, it appears to
me more probable that winds, not currents, caused the southerly drift
of Parry’s ice-field.
In 1868, a German expedition, under Captain Koldewey, made the first
visit to the seas west of Spitzbergen in a steamship, the small but
powerful screw steamer _Germania_ (126 tons), advancing northwards
a little beyond the 81st parallel. But this voyage can scarcely be
regarded as an attempt to approach the Pole on that course; for
Koldewey’s instructions were, “to explore the eastern coast of
Greenland northwards; and, if he found success in that direction
impossible, to make for the mysterious Island of Gilles on the east of
Spitzbergen.”
Scoresby in 1806 had made thus far the most northerly voyage in a ship
on Hudson’s route, but in 1868 a Swedish expedition attained higher
latitudes than had ever or have ever been reached by a ship in that
direction. The steamship _Sofia_, strongly built of Swedish iron, and
originally intended for winter voyages in the Baltic, was selected for
the voyage. Owing to a number of unfortunate delays, it was not until
September, 1868, that the _Sofia_ reached the most northerly part of
her journey, attaining a point nearly fifteen miles further north than
Hudson had reached. To the north broken ice was still found, but it was
so closely packed that not even a boat could pass through. Two months
earlier in the season the voyagers might have waited for a change of
wind and the breaking up of the ice; but in the middle of September
this would have been very dangerous. The temperature was already
sixteen degrees below the freezing-point, and there was every prospect
that in a few weeks, or even days, the seas over which they had reached
their present position would be icebound. They turned back from that
advanced position; but, with courage worthy of the old Vikings, they
made another attack a fortnight later. They were foiled again, as was
to be expected, for by this time the sun was already on the wintry side
of the equator. They had, indeed, a narrow escape from destruction.
“An ice-block with which they came into collision opened a large leak
in the ship’s side, and when, after great exertions, they reached the
land, the water already stood two feet over the cabin floor.”[21]
On the western side of the North Atlantic Channel—so to term the part
lying between Greenland and Spitzbergen—the nearest approach towards
the Pole was made by the Dutch in 1670, nearly all the more recent
attempts to reach high northern latitudes in this direction having
hitherto ended in failure more or less complete.
We have already seen that Captain Koldewey was charged to explore the
eastern coast of Greenland in the _Germania_ in 1868. In 1869 the
_Germania_ was again despatched under his command from Bremerhaven,
in company with the _Hansa_, a sailing vessel. Lieutenant Payer and
other Austrian _savants_ accompanied Captain Koldewey. The attack was
again made along the eastern shores of Greenland. As far as the 74th
degree the two vessels kept company; but at this stage it happened
unfortunately that a signal from the _Germania_ was misinterpreted,
and the _Hansa_ left her. Soon after, the _Hansa_ was crushed by masses
of drifting ice, and her crew and passengers took refuge on an immense
ice-floe seven miles in circumference. Here they built a hut, which was
in its turn crushed. Winds and currents carried their icy home about,
and at length broke it up. Fortunately they had saved their boats, and
were able to reach Friedrichsthal, a missionary station in the south of
Greenland, whence they were conveyed to Copenhagen in September, 1870.
Returning to the _Germania_, we find that she had a less unfortunate
experience. She entered the labyrinth of sinuous fjords, separated
by lofty promontories, and girt round by gigantic glaciers, which
characterize the eastern coast of Greenland to the north of Scoresby
Sound. In August the channels by which she had entered were closed,
and the _Germania_ was imprisoned. So soon as the ice would bear
them, Koldewey and his companions made sledging excursions to various
points around their ship. But in November the darkness of the polar
winter settled down upon them, and these excursions ceased. The polar
winter of 1869–70 was “characterized by a series of violent northerly
tempests, one of which continued more than 100 hours, with a velocity
(measured by the anemometer) of no less than sixty miles an hour”—a
velocity often surpassed, indeed, but which must have caused intense
suffering to all who left the shelter of the ship; for it is to be
remembered that the air which thus swept along at the rate of a mile
a minute was the bitter air of the Arctic regions. The thermometer
did not, however, descend lower than 26° below zero, or 58° below the
freezing-point—a cold often surpassed in parts of the United States. I
have myself experienced a cold of more than 30° below zero, at Niagara.
“With proper precautions as regards shelter and clothing,” proceeds
the narrative, “even extreme cold need not cause great suffering to
those who winter in such regions. One of the worst things to be endured
is the physical and moral weariness of being cut off from external
observations during the long night of some ninety days, relieved only
by the strange Northern Lights. The ice accumulates all round with
pressure, and assumes peculiar and fantastic forms, emitting ever and
anon ominous noises. Fortunately, the _Germania_ lay well sheltered
in a harbour opening southwards, and, being protected by a rampart of
hills on the north, was able to resist the shock of the elements. The
sun appearing once more about the beginning of February, the scientific
work of exploration began.... The pioneers of the _Germania_ advanced
as far as the 77th degree of latitude, in longitude 18° 50´ west from
Greenwich. There was no sign of an open sea towards the Pole. _Had it
not been for want of provisions, the party could have prolonged their
sledge journey indefinitely._ The bank of ice, without remarkable
protuberances, extends to about two leagues from the shore, which
from this extreme point seems to trend towards the north-west, where
the view was bounded by lofty mountains.” As the expedition was only
equipped for one winter, it returned to Europe in September, 1870,
without having crossed the 78th parallel of north latitude.
Captain Koldewey was convinced, by the results of his exploration,
that there is no continuous channel northwards along the eastern coast
of Greenland. It does not seem to me that his expedition proved this
beyond all possibility of question. Still, it seems clear that the
eastern side of the North Atlantic is less suited than the western for
the attempt to reach the North Pole. The prevailing ocean-currents are
southerly on that side, just as they are northerly on the western side.
The cold also is greater, the lines of equal temperature lying almost
exactly in the direction of the channel itself—that is, nearly north
and south—and the cold increasing athwart that direction, towards the
west. The nearer to Greenland the greater is the cold.[22]
The next route to be considered in order of time would be the American
route; but I prefer to leave this to the last, as the latest results
relate to that route. I take next, therefore, a route which some regard
as the most promising of all—that, namely, which passes between
Spitzbergen and the Scandinavian peninsula.
It will be remembered that Lieutenant Payer, of the Austrian navy, had
accompanied Captain Koldewey’s first expedition. When driven back from
the attempt to advance along the eastern shores of Greenland, that
commander crossed over to Spitzbergen, and tried to find the Land of
Gilles. He also accompanied Koldewey’s later expedition, and shared his
belief that there is no continuous channel northwards on the western
side of the North Atlantic channel. Believing still, however, with
Dr. Petermann, the geographer, that there is an open Polar sea beyond
the ice-barrier, Payer set out in 1871, in company with Weyprecht,
towards the Land of Gilles. They did not find this mysterious land,
but succeeded in passing 150 miles further north, after rounding the
south-eastern shores of Spitzbergen, than any Arctic voyagers who had
before penetrated into the region lying between Spitzbergen and Novaia
Zemlia. Here they found, beyond the 76th parallel, and between 42° and
60° east longitude, an open sea, and a temperature of between 5° and 7°
above the freezing-point. Unfortunately, they had not enough provisions
with them to be able safely to travel further north, and were thus
compelled to return. The season seems to have been an unusually open
one; and it is much to be regretted that the expedition was not better
supplied with provisions—a defect which appears to be not uncommon
with German expeditions.
Soon after their return, Payer and Weyprecht began to prepare for a new
expedition; and this time their preparations were thorough, and adapted
for a long stay in Arctic regions. “The chief aim of this expedition,”
says the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, in an interesting account of recent
Polar researches, “was to investigate the unknown regions of the Polar
seas to the north of Siberia, and to try to reach Behring’s Straits
by this route.” It was only if after two winters and three summers
they failed to double the extreme promontory of Asia, that they were
to direct their course towards the Pole. The voyagers, numbering
twenty-four persons, left the Norwegian port of Tromsoë, in the steamer
_Tegethoff_, on July 14, 1872. Count Wilczek followed shortly after
in a yacht, which was to convey coals and provisions to an eastern
point of the Arctic Ocean, for the benefit of the _Tegethoff_. At
a point between Novaia Zemlia and the mouth of the Petschora, the
yacht lost sight of the steamer, and nothing was heard of the latter
for twenty-five months. General anxiety was felt for the fate of the
expedition, and various efforts were made by Austria, England, and
Russia to obtain news of it. In September, 1874, the voyagers suddenly
turned up at another port, and soon after entered Vienna amid great
enthusiasm. Their story was a strange one.
It appears that when the _Tegethoff_ was lost sight of (August 21,
1872), she had been surrounded by vast masses of ice, which crushed
her hull. For nearly half a year the deadly embrace of the ice
continued; and when at length pressure ceased, the ship remained
fixed in the ice, several miles from open water. During the whole
summer the voyagers tried to release their ship, but in vain. They had
not, however, remained motionless all this time. The yacht had lost
sight of them at a spot between Novaia Zemlia and Malaia Zemlia (in
North Russia) in about 71° north latitude, and they were imprisoned
not far north of this spot. But the ice-field was driven hither
and thither by the winds, until they found themselves, on the last
day of August, 1873, only 6´ or about seven miles south of the 80th
parallel of latitude. Only fourteen miles from them, on the north,
they saw “a mass of mountainous land, with numerous glaciers.” They
could not reach it until the end of October, however, and then they
had to house themselves in preparation for the long winter night.
This land they called Francis Joseph Land. It lies north of Novaia
Zemlia, and on the Polar side of the 80th parallel of latitude. The
winter was stormy and bitterly cold, the thermometer descending on one
occasion to 72° below zero—very nearly as low as during the greatest
cold experienced by Nares’s party. In February, 1874, “the sun having
reappeared, Lieutenant Payer began to prepare sledge excursions to
ascertain the configuration of the land.... In the second excursion
the voyagers entered Austria Sound, which bounds Francis Joseph Island
on the east and north, and found themselves, after emerging from it,
in the midst of a large basin, surrounded by several large islands.
The extreme northern point reached by the expedition was a cape on one
of these islands, which they named Prince Rodolph’s Land, calling the
point Cape Fligely. It lies a little beyond the 81st parallel. They
saw land further north beyond the 83rd degree of latitude, and named
it Petermann’s Land. The archipelago thus discovered is comparable
in extent to that of which Spitzbergen is the chief island.” The
voyagers were compelled now to return, as the firm ice did not extend
further north. They had a long, difficult, and dangerous journey
southwards—sometimes on open water, in small boats, sometimes on
ice, with sledges—impeded part of the time by contrary winds, and
with starvation staring them in the face during the last fortnight of
their journey. Fortunately, they reached Novaia Zemlia before their
provisions quite failed them, and were thence conveyed to Wardhoë by a
Russian trading ship.
We have now only to consider the attempts which have been made to
approach the North Pole by the American route. For, though Collinson
in 1850 reached high latitudes to the north of Behring’s Straits, while
Wrangel and other Russian voyagers have attempted to travel northwards
across the ice which bounds the northern shores of Siberia, it can
hardly be said that either route has been followed with the definite
purpose of reaching the North Pole. I shall presently, however, have
occasion to consider the probable value of the Behring’s Straits route,
which about twelve years ago was advocated by the Frenchman Lambert.
Dr. Kane’s expedition in 1853–55 was one of those sent out in search
of Sir John Franklin. It was fitted out at the expense of the United
States Government, and the route selected was that along Smith’s Sound,
the northerly prolongation of Baffin’s Bay. Kane wintered in 1853 and
1854 in Van Reusselaer’s Inlet, on the western coast of Greenland, in
latitude 78° 43´ north. Leaving his ship, the _Advance_, he made a
boat-journey to Upernavik, 6° further south. He next traced Kennedy
Channel, the northerly prolongation of Smith’s Sound, reaching latitude
81° 22´ north. He named heights visible yet further to the north,
Parry Mountains; and at the time—that is, twenty-two years ago—the
land so named was the highest northerly land yet seen. Hayes, who had
accompanied Kane in this voyage, succeeded in reaching a still higher
latitude in sledges drawn by Esquimaux dogs. Both Kane and Hayes agreed
in announcing that where the shores of Greenland trend off eastwards
from Kennedy Channel, there is an open sea, “rolling,” as Captain Maury
magniloquently says, “with the swell of a boundless ocean.” It was in
particular noticed that the tides ebbed and flowed in this sea. On this
circumstance Captain Maury based his conclusion that there is an open
sea to the north of Greenland. After showing that the tidal wave could
not well have travelled along the narrow and icebound straits between
Baffin’s Bay and the region reached by Kane and Hayes, Maury says:
“Those tides must have been born in that cold sea, having their cradle
about the North Pole.” The context shows, however, that he really
intended to signify that the waves were formed in seas around the North
Pole, and thence reached the place where they were seen; so that, as
birth usually precedes cradling, Maury would more correctly have said
that these tides are cradled in that cold sea, having their birth about
the North Pole.