HOMEWARD BOUND.--ENTERING MELVILLE BAY.--ENCOUNTER WITH A
BEAR.--MEETING THE PACK.--MAKING THE "SOUTH WATER."--REACHING
UPERNAVIK.--THE NEWS.--TO GOODHAVEN.--LIBERALITY OF THE
DANISH GOVERNMENT AND THE GREENLAND OFFICIALS.--DRIVEN OUT
OF BAFFIN BAY BY A GALE.--CRIPPLED BY THE STORM AND FORCED
TO TAKE SHELTER IN HALIFAX.--HOSPITABLE RECEPTION.--ARRIVAL
IN BOSTON.--REALIZE THE STATE OF THE COUNTRY.--THE
DETERMINATION.--CONCLUSION.
My story is soon ended. Having completed the exploration of Whale
Sound, we tripped our anchor and stood southward. The heavens were
bright and the air soft with a summer warmth; and as we glided down the
waveless waters, all sparkling with icebergs, watching the scene of our
adventures slowly sinking away behind us under the crimson trail of the
midnight sun, it seemed truly as if smooth seas and gentle winds had
come to invite us home.
But this repose of the elements was of short duration. A dark curtain
rose after a while above the retreating hills, and sent us a parting
salute, in the shape of a storm of snow and wind, so that we were soon
obliged to gather in some of our canvas, and keep a sharp lookout.
My purpose was to reach the "West Water," by making a course toward
Pond's Bay, then round the "middle ice" to the southward, and make an
easterly course for the Greenland coast.
The atmosphere cleared up at length, but the wind held on fiercely.
Being from the north-northeast, it seemed to me then to favor an
easterly rather than a westerly passage; so, having reached a little
below the latitude of Cape York, on the meridian of 73° 40′ without
discovering any signs of ice, I changed my original purpose, and,
altering the course of the schooner, struck directly across Melville
Bay for Upernavik. The result proved the prudence of this change.
In twenty-four hours we ran down nearly two degrees of latitude,
and hauled in seven degrees of longitude, finding ourselves at noon
of August 10th in latitude 74° 19′, longitude 66°, without having
encountered any ice seriously to trouble us. The air still holding
clear, we had no difficulty in avoiding the bergs.
The sea had by this time become very angry, and I was almost as anxious
as I had been the year before, when entering the bay from the south.
The atmosphere was, however, perfectly clear.
[Sidenote: ENCOUNTER WITH A BEAR.]
While bounding along, logging ten knots an hour, we almost ran over
an immense polar bear, which was swimming in the open water, making a
fierce battle with the seas, and seemingly desirous of boarding us.
He was evidently much exhausted, and, seeing the vessel approach,
doubtless had made at her in search of safety. The unhappy beast had
probably allowed himself to be drifted off on an ice-raft which had
gone to pieces under him in the heavy seas. Although these polar bears
are fine swimmers, I much feared that the waves would in the end prove
too much for this poor fellow, as there was not a speck of ice in sight
on which he could find shelter. As we passed, he touched the schooner's
side, and Jensen, who had seized a rifle, was in the act of putting
an end to his career, when I arrested his hand. The beast was making
such a brave fight for his life that I would not see him shot, more
especially as the waves were running too high to lower a boat for his
carcass, without a risk which the circumstances did not warrant.
[Sidenote: RECROSSING MELVILLE BAY.]
The presence of this bear warned me that the pack could not be very
remote, and accordingly we shortened sail, and I took my old station
aloft on the fore-yard. Sure enough the pack was there, as was soon
evidenced by an "ice-blink," and in a little while we were close upon
it. Hauling by the wind, we skirted its margin for some time without
discovering any termination to it; and, the ice appearing to be very
loose and rotten, I stood away again on our southerly course, and
entered the first favorable lead. It was something of a venture, as we
could not, although the ice was wholly different front that of Smith
Sound, owing to the condition of the schooner's bows, strike it with
safety. Luckily the wind favored us, and the schooner answering her
helm promptly, we managed to avoid the floes for about twelve hours, at
least without a thump of any serious consequence, at the end of which
time the wind had fallen to calm; and this continuing for some time,
with the temperature several degrees below freezing, new ice was formed
more than half an inch thick, all over the sea.
A light and fair breeze springing up again, we were once more under
way, crunching through this crystal sheet much to the damage of the
schooner's sides, where there was no iron, and very embarrassing to our
progress, for we were often absolutely stuck fast. We were glad enough
when the breeze stiffened and knocked the ice to pieces, giving us a
free passage into the "East Water."
We made land on the morning of the 12th, and found it to be the Horse's
Head. The pack was now far behind us, and our southern passage through
Melville Bay had been made in about five hours less time than our
northern.
From the Horse's Head we jogged on through a foggy atmosphere with
occasional thick squalls of snow and light variable winds, until after
three days' groping we found ourselves again at anchor in Upernavik
harbor.
[Sidenote: NEWS FROM HOME.]
While the chain was yet clicking in the hawse-hole, an old Dane,
dressed in seal-skins, and possessing a small stock of English and a
large stock of articles to trade, pulled off to us with an Esquimau
crew, and, with little ceremony, clambered over the gangway. Knorr met
him, and, without any ceremony at all, demanded the news.
"Oh! dere's plenty news."
"Out with it, man! What is it?"
"Oh! de Sout' States dey go agin de Nort' States, and dere's plenty
fight."
I heard the answer, and, wondering what strange complication of
European politics had kindled another Continental war, called this
Polar Eumæus to the quarter-deck. Had he any news from America?
"Oh! 'tis 'merica me speak! De Sout' States, you see? dey go agin de
Nort' States, you see? and dere's plenty fight!"
Yes, I did see! but I did not believe that he told the truth, and
awaited the letters which I knew must have come out with the Danish
vessel, and which were immediately sent for to the Government-House.
It proved that letters had been brought for us by our old friend, Dr.
Rudolph, who had returned a few weeks before from Copenhagen, and who
kindly brought them aboard himself as soon as he knew of our arrival,
and almost before my messenger had reached the shore.
[Sidenote: THE REBELLION.]
These and some files of papers, and the Doctor's memory, gave us the
leading occurrences which had taken place at home up to near the end
of March, 1861. We learned of the inauguration of the new President
and of the leading events following his election, but of the startling
incidents of a later period we were ignorant. We could not apprehend
that war had actually broken out. We knew only of the intrigues for
a division of the States and of the acts looking to that design. We
learned that suspicion on the one hand, and treason on the other, ruled
the hour; that threats of violence and irresolute counsels had thrown
society into a ferment; and that the national safety was imperiled;
but we knew not of the firing on Fort Sumter, nor of the bloody wound
which the Nation had received at Bull Run; nor that a vast army for
the protection of the Capital and the defense of the Government was
then growing up on the banks of the Potomac. We little thought, that
in every city, and town, and hamlet, the occupations of peace had
already given place to the passionate excitements of war; that a cry
of indignation and anger had gone up throughout the land against men
who, pledged to protect the national flag and the national name, had
abandoned and repudiated them; or, that under the banner of States'
rights and under the impulse of ambition, a powerful party had boldly
bid defiance to the Federal power and declared their purpose to break
the Federal compact. And, even had we heard these things, it would have
been difficult for us to have thus suddenly realized that, in a single
year, human folly and human madness had so completely got the better of
right and reason.
I occupied myself while the schooner lay at Upernavik with visiting
a magnificent glacier nine miles wide, which discharges into a fiord
named Aukpadlatok, about forty miles from the town. Near this glacier
there is a hunting-station of the same name which is superintended by
a Dane, called Philip, who lives there in the enjoyment of peace and
plenty, with an Esquimau wife and a large family of children, among
whom are four full-grown half-breed boys,--the best hunters, I was
told, north of Pröven. My surveys detained me several days at Philip's
hut, and, before I left, I had made full arrangements with himself and
his seal-skin-coated boys and his wife and daughters, to make sledges,
for which I gave them abundant materials, and fur-clothing, and
skin-lines; and I engaged them to rear and accumulate dogs for me, that
I might be well supplied when I came back the next year.
After leaving Upernavik, light and baffling winds kept us at our old
trade of dodging the icebergs for four days, at the end of which time
we were at anchor in Goodhaven, and I was enjoying, as I was sure to
do, the courteous hospitality of my old friend, Inspector Olrik.
This settlement is situated on the south side of Disco Island, and
takes its name from the excellence of the harbor, which is completely
land-locked. It is the principal colony of North Greenland, and, being
the residence of the Viceroy or Royal Inspector, has attached to it an
air of importance not belonging to the other stations.
[Sidenote: LIBERALITY OF THE DANISH GOVERNMENT.]
Mr. Olrik exhibited to me an order from his Government, commanding the
Greenland officials to give attention to my requirements, and offering
me at the same time as well his official as personal good offices.
Being on my way home, I had little occasion to avail myself of this
gracious act of the Danish Government; but I informed the Inspector
of my future purposes and signified to him my desire to avail myself
of its privileges next year. I am glad of an opportunity publicly to
express my admiration of the conduct of the Danish Government toward
the Arctic expeditions of whatever nationality; and in my own case it
was the more personally gratifying, and the more highly appreciated,
that I had no "Department" orders wherewith to back up my claims to
consideration.
[Sidenote: LEAVING GREENLAND.]
From the Chief Trader, Mr. Anderson, as well as from the Inspector,
I had much kindly assistance in perfecting my collections and in
completing my series of photographic views, and I found myself so
agreeably as well as profitably occupied that I was truly loath to quit
the good harbor; but it was necessary for me to be hastening home, as
the nights were growing dark, and I did not wish to be caught among the
icebergs without some sunlight to guide me; so, when the first fine
wind came, I huddled my collections aboard, bade good-by, saluted the
Danish ensign for the last time, and--well, we did over again what we
had done a dozen times before--dove into a villainous fog-bank, out of
which came a rush of wind that sent us homeward a little faster than we
cared to go.
[Sidenote: FLYING BEFORE THE GALE.]
It was a regular equinoctial storm, and, from the time of leaving
Disco until we had passed Newfoundland, it scarcely once relaxed its
grip of us. We were blown out through Davis Strait even more fiercely
than we had been blown in. At one time we were beset with a perfect
hurricane, and how the schooner staggered through it was little short
of a miracle. Ulysses could hardly have had a worse dusting, when his
stupid crew let loose all the winds which Æolus had so kindly bagged
up for him. Every stitch of canvas was ripped up but the little rag of
a topsail, under which we scudded before the gale through four days,
running down in one four-and-twenty hours two hundred and twenty miles
of latitude. The seas which came tumbling after us, each one seemingly
determined to roll over the poop, were perfectly frightful; especially
when one looked aloft and saw the little patch of canvas threatening
every moment to give way, and heard the waters gurgling under the
counter as the stern went down and the bows went up, while a very
Niagara was roaring and curveting after us, as if maddened with defeat,
and with each new effort the more determined to catch the craft before
she should mount the crest ahead. But she slipped from under every
threatening danger as gracefully, if not as
"Swift, as an eagle cleaving the liquid air,"
and, leaving the parted billows foaming and roaring behind her, passed
on triumphant and unharmed.
[Sidenote: CRIPPLED BY THE STORM.]
When off Labrador, the wind hauled suddenly to the westward, and we
had to give up the chase, and get the schooner's head to it. McCormick
had managed to patch up the foresail, and, getting a triangular piece
of it rigged for a storm-sail, we proposed to heave her to. There did
not appear to be much chance of a successful termination to this new
venture, but it was clearly this or nothing. The sail was set and the
determination come to just in time, for we shipped a terrible sea
over the quarter, the schooner gave a lurch to leeward, and then
righted so suddenly that the little topsail which had done us such good
service went into ribbons, the topmast cracked off at the cap, and
crash went the jib-boom right away afterward. "Hard a-lee!" was rather
a melancholy sort of order to give under the circumstances, and, as
was to be expected, when the helm went down we were thrown into the
trough of the next sea, where we were caught amidships by the ugliest
wave that I ever happened to look upon, and down it thundered upon us,
staving in the bulwarks, sweeping the decks from stem to stern, and
carrying every thing overboard, our water-casks included. The schooner
shivered all over as if every rib in her little body was broken, and
for a moment I felt sure that she was knocked over on her beam ends;
but the craft seemed to possess more lives than a cat, and, righting
in an instant, shook herself free of the water, took the next wave on
the bow, rose to it nobly, and then shot squarely into the wind's eye.
"Bravely done, little lady!" was McCormick's caressing approval of her
good behavior.
We lay hove to for three days, at the end of which time we found
ourselves drifted from our course two hundred miles. Meanwhile, there
had been a good deal of alarm caused by the loss of our water-casks.
We had an extra cask or so in the hold, but these could not be got up
without removing the main-hatch, an effort not to be thought of, as
the decks were flooded and the vessel would be swamped; so I at once
set myself to work to remedy the evil, and succeeded perfectly. With
a tea-kettle for a retort and a barrel for a condenser, I managed to
distill water enough for the entire ship's company; and, in less than
three hours after the disaster, all alarm vanished when it was known
that a stream of pure water was trickling from this novel contrivance
in the officers' cabin, at the rate of ten gallons a day.
[Sidenote: RECEPTION IN HALIFAX.]
The damaged condition of the schooner compelled us, when off Nova
Scotia, to make a port as speedily as possible, and accordingly we put
into Halifax. Our reception there was most gratifying, and among a
people famed for hospitality we had abundant reason to rejoice over the
ill winds which had blown us so much good. The admiral of Her Britannic
Majesty's fleet, then in Halifax Harbor, generously tendered the use
of the Government conveniences for repairing my crippled vessel; and
from the officers of Her Majesty's civil service and of the squadron
and garrison; from the Mayor and many other citizens of Halifax,--most
especially from the Medical Society,--the Expedition received
attentions which exhibited not less a friendliness of disposition for
ourselves than respect for the flag under which our explorations had
been made.
Up to the time of our arrival at Halifax we had, of course, no further
news than what reached us at Upernavik. We had scarcely dropped our
anchor before a a citizen of the town and a countryman of my own,
neither of whom was long a stranger to my friendship or my gratitude,
hurried off to give us greetings, and to bring the news. They had
picked up some files of New York papers on the way, and we soon learned
of the terrible struggle that had been going on for many months.
Although not wholly unprepared for this by the intelligence received
at Upernavik, yet we had confidently cherished the expectation that
hostilities had been averted by wise and prudent counsellors. The
shock was to us such as those who had watched at home the progress
of events from day to day could perhaps hardly realize. The first
intelligence I had of the war was the account of the Bull Run battle,
next I heard of the firing on Sumter, and then of the riots in
Baltimore, and the destruction of Norfolk Navy-Yard, and the capture of
Harper's Ferry; and then followed an account of the universal arming
and volunteering.
[Sidenote: ARRIVAL IN BOSTON.]
We remained at Halifax not longer than was necessary to complete the
repairs of the schooner, when we again put to sea, and in four days
made the Boston Lights. We picked up a pilot out of the thickest fog
that I have ever seen south of the Arctic Circle, and with a light
wind stood into the harbor. As the night wore on the wind fell away
almost to calm; the fog thickened more and more, if that were possible,
as we sagged along over the dead waters toward the anchorage. The
night was filled with an oppressive gloom. The lights hanging at the
mast-heads of the vessels which we passed had the ghastly glimmer of
tapers burning in a charnel-house. We saw no vessel moving but our own,
and even those which lay at anchor seemed like phantom ships floating
in the murky air. I never saw the ship's company so lifeless, or so
depressed even in times of real danger.
The sun was beginning to pour into the atmosphere a dim light when
we let go our anchor; but it did not seem that we were at home, or
that a great city lay near by. No one was anxious to go ashore. It
appeared as if each one anticipated some personal misfortune, and
wished to postpone the shock foreboded by his fears. I landed on Long
Wharf, and found my way into State Street. Two or three figures were
moving through the thick vapors, and their solemn foot-fall broke the
worse than Arctic stillness. I reached Washington Street, and walked
anxiously westward. A news-boy passed me. I seized a paper, and the
first thing which caught my eye was the account of the Ball's Bluff
battle, in which had fallen many of the noblest sons of Boston; and it
seemed as if the very air had shrouded itself in mourning for them, and
that the heavens wept tears for the city's slain.
I was wending my way to the house of a friend, but I thought it likely
that he was not there. I felt like a stranger in a strange land, and
yet every object which I passed was familiar. Friends, country, every
thing seemed swallowed up in some vast calamity, and, doubtful and
irresolute, I turned back sad and dejected, and found my way on board
again through the dull, dull fog.
[Sidenote: REALIZATION OF THE REBELLION.]
[Sidenote: THE DETERMINATION.]
The terrible reality was now for the first time present to my
imagination. The land which I had left in the happy enjoyment of peace
and repose was already drenched with blood; a great convulsion had come
to scatter the old landmarks of the national Union, and the country
which I had known before could be the same no more. Mingled with these
reflections were thoughts of my own career. To abandon my pursuits;
to give up a project in which I had expended so much time and means;
to have nipped, as it were, in the very bud, a work upon which I had
set my heart, and to which I had already given all the early years of
my manhood; to sacrifice all the hopes and all the ambitions which
had encouraged me through toil and danger, with the promise of the
fame to follow the successful completion of a great object; to abandon
an enterprise in which I had aspired to win for myself an honorable
place among the men who have illustrated their country's history and
shed lustre upon their country's flag, were thoughts which first
seriously crossed my mind while returning on board, carrying in my
hand the bloody record of Ball's Bluff. In the face of the startling
intelligence which had crowded upon me since reaching Halifax, and
which had now culminated; in the face of the duty which every man owes,
in his own person, to his country when his country is in peril, I could
not hesitate. Before I had reached my cabin, while our friends were yet
in ignorance of our presence in the bay, I had resolved to postpone the
execution of the task with which I had charged myself; and I closed as
well the cruise as the project, by writing a letter to the President,
asking for immediate employment in the public service, and offering my
schooner to the government for a gun-boat.
* * * * *
Five years have now elapsed since the schooner _United States_ crept
to anchorage through the murky vapors of Boston Harbor. The terrible
struggle then first realized by me, as at hand, is now over, and has
become an event of history. The destinies of individuals are ever
subordinate to the public weal; and in the presence of great social
and political revolutions, when ideas are fringed with bayonets,
and great interests are in conflict, men have little leisure for
the consideration of questions of science, or of remote projects
unconnected with the national safety.
[Sidenote: PLANS POSTPONED, NOT ABANDONED.]
Therefore it is that the further exploration of the Arctic regions
was lost sight of by me during the past few years. The facilities
which I had acquired, and the advantages which I had gained, have been
in a great measure sacrificed since my return to Boston in October,
1861, and I cannot therefore speak with confidence as to the time when
the exploration will be renewed. The scheme has not, however, been
abandoned, nor are my views in any respect changed. I still contemplate
the execution of my original design, and hope at an early day to
carry into effect the plan of discovery indicated in the concluding
chapters of this narrative. It is still my wish to found at Port
Foulke such a colony as I have hitherto described, and, with a corps
of scientific associates, to make that the centre of a widely extended
system of exploration. The value of such a centre will be evident to
every instructed mind without illustration, and the availability of
the situation is shown by the experience of my own party. The project
has the more interest at this time in connection with the effort by
way of the Spitzbergen Sea, contemplated by the Prussian government,
the inception of which is due to the eminent geographer, Dr. Augustus
Petermann. As with my own enterprise, that of Dr. Petermann has
temporarily given place to the necessities of war; but I have been
informed that the expedition is contemplated for the coming spring. The
organization of this expedition is founded upon, I think, a correct
assumption that the Open Sea and the North Pole may be reached with
steam-vessels by pushing through the ice-belt to the west and north of
Spitzbergen. This route possesses some advantages over that of Smith
Sound, while it has some disadvantages. The temporary colonization at
Port Foulke gives to the Smith Sound route its chief claim over the
other, to the consideration of the explorer.
[Sidenote: ADVANTAGES OF ARCTIC EXPLORATION.]
[Sidenote: CONCLUSION.]
It is not needful that I should here demonstrate the advantages to
be derived from a continuation of the line of exploration which I
have indicated;--the age in which we live has too much profited by
researches into every department of science, which, not immediately
prosecuted with the view to practical advantage, have, by a steady
enlargement of the boundaries of human knowledge, promoted the
interests of commerce, of navigation, of the arts, and of every thing
which concerns the convenience and the comfort and the well-being of
mankind. In truth, civilization has profited most by those discoveries
which possessed at the outset only an abstract value, and excited no
interest beyond the walls of the academy. The vast system of steam
communication, which weaves around the world its endless web of
industry, began in the apparently useless experiments of a thoughtful
boy with the lid of his mother's tea-kettle; that wonderful net-work
of wires which spreads over the continents and underlies the seas, and
along which the thoughts of men fly as with the wings of light, results
from the accidental touching of two pieces of metal in the mouth
of Volta; the lenses of the mammoth telescope of Lord Rosse, which
reduced to practical uses the celestial mechanism, came from observing
the magnifying powers of a globule of water; the magnetic needle
which guides the navies of the world to their distant destinations,
succeeds the casual contact of a piece of loadstone and a bit of steel:
everywhere, indeed, we witness the same constant growth from what
seemed unprofitable beginnings;--the printing-press, the loom, the art
of solar painting, all sprang from the one same source,--from minds
intent only upon interrogating Nature, and revealing her mysteries,
without knowledge of the good to come therefrom. The progress of
scientific discovery is indeed the progress of the human race, and the
question, _Cui bono?_ is now no longer asked of him who would reveal
hidden truths. Wherever men have sought wider fields of gain, or power,
or usefulness, there has been science in the midst of them,--guiding,
supporting, and instructing them. Wherever men have sought to plant,
among barbarous peoples, the emblem of the only true religion, there
has she gone before,--opening the gates and smoothing the pathway.
She has lifted the curtain of ignorance from the human mind, and
Christianity, following her advancing footsteps, has banished from the
West the ancient superstitions, and the dark Pantheism of the East and
the Fetich worship of the savage tribes are passing away. The light of
science and the gospel of our Christian faith have moved hand in hand
together through the world, and, overriding the barriers of custom,
have, with unselfish zeal, steadily unfolded to the human understanding
the material interests which concern this life, and to the human soul
the sacred truths of Revelation which concern the life to come.
[Illustration: END]
* * * * *
Transcriber Note
Minor typos were corrected. Both Esquimau and Esquimaux were retained.
Some paragraphs were split or moved to accommodate placement of the
images or Side-notes.