DEATH OF SIR ERNEST SHACKLETON
On Thursday, January 5th, I was awakened about 3.0 A.M. to find both of
the doctors in my cabin—Macklin was lighting my oil lamp. McIlroy said:
“We want you to wake up thoroughly, for we have some bad news to give
you—the worst possible.”
I sat up, saying:
“Go on with it, let me have it straight out!”
He replied: “The Boss is dead!”
It was a staggering blow.
Roused thus in the middle of the night to receive this news, it was
some minutes before I felt its full significance. I remember saying
mechanically:
“The Boss dead! _Dead_, do you mean? He can’t be dead!”
[Illustration: THE RESTING PLACE OF A GREAT EXPLORER
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: THE PICTURESQUE SETTING OF PRINCE OLAF STATION
_Photo: Wilkins_]
On asking for particulars, I learned from Macklin that he was taking
the 2.0-4.0 A.M. anchor watch. He was patrolling the ship, when he was
attracted by a whistle from the Boss’s cabin, and on going in, found
him sitting up in his bunk. His own account, written almost immediately
after, is as follows:
Was called at 2.0 A.M. for my watch. A cold night but clear and
beautiful, with every star showing. I was slowly walking up and
down the deck, when I heard a whistle from the Boss’s cabin. I
went in, and he said: “Hullo, Mack, boy, is that you? I thought
it was.” He continued: “I can’t sleep to-night, can you get me a
sleeping draught?” He explained that he was suffering from severe
facial neuralgia, and had taken fifteen grains of aspirin. “That
stuff is no good; will you get me something which will act?”
I noticed that although it was a cold night he had only one
blanket, and asked him if he had no others. He replied that they
were in his bottom drawer and he could not be bothered getting
them out. I started to do so, but he said, “Never mind to-night,
I can stand the cold.” However, I went back to my cabin and got
a heavy Jaeger blanket from my bunk, which I tucked round him. He
was unusually quiet in the way he let me do things for him.... He
talked of many things quite rationally, and finding him in such a
complacent mood, I thought it a good opportunity to emphasize the
necessity of his taking things very much more quietly than he had
been doing.... “You are always wanting me to give up something.
What do you want me to give up now?” This was the last thing he
said.
He died quite suddenly.
I remained with him during the worst of the attack, but as soon as
I could leave him I ran to McIlroy and, shaking him very roughly
I am afraid, said: “Wake up, Mick, come at once to the Boss. He
is dying!” On my way back I woke Hussey, and told him to get me
certain medicines. It must have been rather a shocking awakening
for both of them, but they leapt up at once. Nothing could be
done, however. I noted the time—it was about 2.50 A.M.
I had Worsley called and informed him of what had occurred. To the rest
I said nothing till the morning.
At 8.0 A.M. I mustered all hands on the poop, and told them the bad
news. Naturally it was a great shock to them all, especially to those
who had served with him before and thus knew him more intimately. I
added briefly that I now commanded the expedition, which would carry
on.
On that day, and on the several that followed, rain fell heavily,
fitting in with our low spirits.
I immediately set about making arrangements for sending home the sad
news to Lady Shackleton, and for notifying Mr. Rowett.
I sent for Watts, our wireless operator, and asked him if he could
establish communication. He said he would try. From his log: “My
ambition was to get the type 15 set working, so as to pass the news as
quickly as possible. The whole set I stripped and tested thoroughly,
and ‘made good’ minor defects, but luck was still against me. The
dynamo was run at 5.45 P.M., and whilst testing the installation the
machine suddenly raced, and fuses were blown out, so further working of
the set had to be abandoned.”
I went ashore to see Mr. Jacobsen, who was deeply shocked at the
news. I learned from him that there was no wireless apparatus on the
island other than those carried by the oil transport steamers, none
of which, however, had a sending range sufficient to get into touch
with a receiving station from here. He told me that the _Albuera_, a
steamer lying at Leith Harbour farther round the coast, was due to
sail in about ten days. He said that if I cared to go to Leith and
make arrangements with her captain for sending the news, he would put
at my disposal the _Little Karl_, a small steam whaler used by him for
visiting different parts of the island.
I accepted his offer, and whilst the vessel was being got ready went
with McIlroy and Macklin to notify the resident magistrate. He was away
at another station, but I saw Mr. Barlas, the assistant magistrate.
It is curious how one notices small things at a time like this. One
incident stands out vividly in my memory. At the moment of my telling
him he was lighting a cigarette, which he dropped on the table-cloth,
where it continued to burn. I remember picking it up for him and
placing it where it could do no harm. This done I left for Leith with
McIlroy, who during the whole of this time was of the greatest help
and assistance. Everyone at Leith showed the greatest kindness and
sympathy, and Captain Manson, of the _Albuera_, readily undertook to
send off the message as soon as he got within range of any wireless
station.
Arrangements for the disposal of the body I left to Macklin, and to
Hussey I entrusted the care of papers and personal effects.
At first I decided to bury Sir Ernest in South Georgia. I had no idea,
however, of what Lady Shackleton’s wishes might be, and so ultimately
decided to send him home to England. The doctors embalmed the body,
which was placed in a lined coffin kindly made for us by Mr. Hansen, of
Leith. There was a steamer named _Professor Gruvel_ lying in Gritviken
Harbour, which was due to sail in about ten days, and her captain,
Captain Jacobsen, offered to carry the body as far as Monte Video, from
where it could be sent on by mail boat.
As soon as the necessary arrangements had been made we carried him
ashore. All hands mustered quietly and stood bareheaded as we lifted
the coffin, covered by our silk white ensign, to the side of the
_Quest_, and passed it over into a motor launch. All the time the
rain soaked heavily down. From the pier we carried him to the little
hospital and placed him in the room in which we had lived together
seven years before.
The next day we carried him to the little church, which is situated
so romantically at the foot of towering snow-covered mountains, over
ground which he had so often trod with firm, eager steps in making the
final preparations for the start of the _Endurance_ expedition.
Here I said good-bye to the Boss, a great explorer, a great leader and
a good comrade.
I had served with him in all his expeditions, twice as his
second-in-command. I accompanied him on his great journey which so
nearly attained the Pole, shared with him every one of his trials and
vicissitudes in the South, and rejoiced with him in his triumphs. No
one knew the explorer side of his nature better than I, and many are
the tales I could tell of his thoughtfulness and his sacrifices on
behalf of others, of which he himself never spoke.
[Illustration: PRINCE OLAF WHALING STATION
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: A STEAM WHALER WITH TWO WHALES BROUGHT IN FOR FLENSING
_Photo: Wilkins_]
[Illustration: HUGE BLUE WHALES AT SOUTH GEORGIA
_Photo: Wilkins_]
Of his hardihood and extraordinary powers of endurance, his buoyant
optimism when things seemed hopeless and his unflinching courage in
the face of danger I have no need to speak. He always did more than
his share of work. Medical evidence shows that the condition which
caused his death was an old standing one and was due to throwing too
great a strain upon a system weakened by shortage of food. I have known
personally and served with all the British leaders of exploration in
the Antarctic since my first voyage in the _Discovery_. For qualities
of leadership and ability to organize Shackleton stands foremost and
must be ranked as the first explorer of his day.
I felt his loss, coming as it did, most keenly.
In order to ensure safe disposal of the body, and to arrange for its
transference at Monte Video, I detailed Hussey to accompany it home.
I could ill spare him, but I considered him the most suitable man I
could select for the purpose. Naturally it was a disappointment to him
to give up the expedition, but he accepted the responsibility without
demur, and I am grateful to him for the spirit in which he complied
with my arrangements.
As subsequent events turned out, Hussey received a message at Monte
Video from Lady Shackleton expressing her wish that Sir Ernest should
be buried in South Georgia, which was the scene of one of his greatest
exploits, and which might well be described as the “Gateway of the
Antarctic.” The coffin was returned to Gritviken by the _Woodville_,
through the courtesy of Captain Least, and Sir Ernest was ultimately
buried in the little cemetery beside our old “dog-lines.” Of his
comrades, only Hussey was present at the funeral, for the rest of
us had already sailed into the South, but there were many amongst
the hardy whalers of South Georgia who attended, men who knew him
and could, better than most people, appreciate his work. Nor was the
sympathetic presence of a woman lacking, for at the funeral was Mrs.
Aarberg, wife of the Norwegian doctor at Leith, who with kindly thought
had placed upon his grave a wreath made from the only flowers on the
island, those which she had cultivated with much care and patience
inside her own house. She was the only woman on South Georgia.
I have not the least doubt that had Sir Ernest been able to decide
upon his last resting-place, it is just here that he would have chosen
to lie, and would have preferred this simple funeral to any procedure
carried out with greater pomp and ceremony.
Not here! the white _South_ has thy bones; and thou,
Heroic sailor-soul,
Art passing on thine happier voyage now
Toward no earthly Pole.[6]