THE “ALERT” AND “DISCOVERY.”
Nares’ Expedition—Wonderful Passage through Baffin’s Bay—Winter
Quarters of the _Discovery_—Capital Game-bag—Continued Voyage of
the _Alert_—Highest Latitude ever attained by a Ship—“The Sea of
Ancient Ice”—Winter Quarters, Employments, and Amusements—The
Royal Arctic Theatre—Guy Fawkes’ Day on the Ice—Christmas
Festivities—Unparalleled Cold—Spring Sledging—Attempt to reach the
_Discovery_—Illness and Death of Petersen—The Ravages of
Scurvy—Tribute to Captain Hall’s Memory—Markham and Parr’s
Northern Journey—Highest Latitude ever reached—Sufferings of the
Men—Brave Deeds—The Voyage Home.
The first official communication received from Captain Nares, and written
from Disco, stated that on the voyage out, owing to the heavy lading of
the Arctic ships, they were extremely wet and uneasy, and that the
hatchways had to be frequently battened down during the prevalence of the
many heavy gales encountered. The _Alert_ and _Discovery_ each lost a
whale-boat. A quantity of loose pack-ice had been met after passing Cape
Farewell. Mr. Krarup Smith, the Inspector of North Greenland, and the
other Danish officials, had been most courteous and obliging, and had
engaged to supply from different stations all the Esquimaux dogs they
might require.
Passing over some intermediate details not generally interesting, we find
that Captain Nares decided to force his way through the “middle ice” of
Baffin’s Bay, instead of proceeding by the ordinary route round Melville
Bay. On July 24th they ran into the pack, and had the satisfaction,
thirty-four hours afterwards, of having completed the passage of the
middle ice, an unparalleled feat. “It will ne’er be credited in
Peterhead,” said the astonished ice-quartermasters. At Cape York,
icebergs, many of them grounded, were noted thickly crowded together. At
the south-east point of Carey Island a reserve depôt of provisions, &c.,
was formed, and the record we have already mentioned as having been
recovered by Captain Young was deposited in a cairn. Later, another note
was left at Littleton Island. The first ice, in large quantities, was
sighted off Cape Sabine on the 30th of July. The pack in the offing
consisted of floes from five to six feet thick, with occasionally older
and heavier floes, ten to twelve feet in thickness, but always much
decayed and honeycombed. The ships were detained at Payer Harbour for
three days, watching for an opening in the ice, getting under weigh
whenever there appeared the slightest chance of proceeding onwards, but on
each occasion being forced to return. On the 4th of August they were
enabled to proceed twenty miles up Hayes Sound. A little later, and both
ships were for the time hopelessly entangled, and the rudders and screws
had to be unshipped. At this period they barely escaped a serious
collision with a large iceberg. The repetition of many similar dangers,
through which, however, the ships passed safely, would be wearisome to the
reader. On August 24th, five miles off Cape Lieber, the pack obliged the
vessels to enter Lady Franklin’s Sound, on the northern shore of which an
indentation of the land gave promise of protection. On a nearer approach
they discovered a well-protected harbour inside an island immediately west
of Cape Bellot, against which the pack-ice of the channel rested. The next
morning they were rejoiced to see a herd of nine musk-oxen feeding close
by, all of which were killed. The vegetation was considerably richer than
at any part of the coast visited north of Port Foulke, which Captain Nares
considers “the Elysium of the Arctic regions.” The harbour was found to be
perfectly suitable for winter quarters, and it was therefore decided to
leave the _Discovery_ there, while the _Alert_ should push on alone. The
_Discovery_ was embedded in the ice for ten and a half months. Captain
Stephenson, of that vessel, stated, in a paper read before the Royal
Geographical Society, that their first care was to place on shore six
months’ provisions and fuel, to guard against any possible accident to the
ship. They were particularly fortunate in killing musk-oxen and smaller
game. Before the darkness set in they had shot thirty-two of the former,
and had at one time as much as 3,053 lbs. of frozen meat hanging up. The
captain could not say much for its flavour: “it was so very musk.” Snow
was piled up outside the ship fifteen to twenty feet thick. This and the
layer on deck—mingled with ashes, which formed a kind of macadamised
walk—kept the warmth in the vessel, and the temperature of the lower deck
ranged from 48° to 56°. On October 10th they lost sight of the sun, and
did not see it again for 135 days.
[Illustration: WINTER QUARTERS OF THE “DISCOVERY.”]
The _Alert_ on her northward passage had many a severe tussle with the
ice, but passed through all dangers successfully. On August 31st Captain
Nares had the great satisfaction of having carried his vessel into
latitude 82° 24’ N., a higher point than ever attained before. The ensign
was hoisted at the peak, and there was universal rejoicing on board at
this early achievement. It was doubtless regarded as a happy omen of
future successes.
At the northern entrance of Robeson Channel the breadth of navigable water
became much contracted, until off Cape Sheridan the ice was observed to be
touching the shore. In Robeson Channel, except where the cliffs rose
precipitously from the sea, and afforded no ledge or step on which the ice
could lodge, the shore-line was noted to be fronted, at a few paces
distance, by a nearly continuous ragged-topped “ice-wall,” from fifteen to
thirty-five feet high. It was broken only off the larger ravines. After
proceeding some distance north it became evident that their sailing season
was rapidly coming to an end. Captain Nares, after a thorough
investigation, found that he had to winter in a somewhat exposed place, no
harbour being available. He had rounded the north-east point of Grant
Land, but instead of finding a continuous coast-line, leading far towards
the north, as expected, found himself on the border of an apparently
extensive sea, with impenetrable ice on every side. The ice was of most
unusual age and thickness, resembling in a marked degree, both in
appearance and formation, low floating icebergs rather than ordinary
salt-water ice. It has now been termed the “Sea of Ancient Ice.” Whereas
ordinary ice is usually from two feet to ten feet in thickness, that in
the Polar Sea, in consequence of having so few outlets by which to escape
to the southward in any appreciable quantity, gradually increases in age
and thickness until it measures from 80 to 120 feet, floating with its
surface at the lowest part fifteen feet above the water-line.
Strange as it may appear, the extraordinary thickness of the ice saved the
ship from being driven on shore, for, owing to its great depth of
flotation, on nearing the shallow beach it grounded, and formed a barrier,
inside which the ship was comparatively safe. When two pieces of ordinary
ice are driven one against the other and the edges broken up, the crushed
pieces are raised by the pressure into a high, long, wall-like hedge of
ice. When two of the ancient floes of the Polar Sea meet, the
intermediate, lighter, broken-up ice which may happen to be floating about
between them alone suffers; it is pressed up between the two closing
masses to a great height, producing a chaotic wilderness of angular blocks
of all shapes and sizes, varying in height up to fifty feet above water,
and frequently covering an area of upwards of a mile in diameter. Captain
Nares mentions pieces being raised by outward pressure and crashing
together which must have weighed 30,000 tons! A ship between such opposing
masses would be annihilated in an instant.
As soon as the shore ice was sufficiently strong Commander A. H. Markham,
with Lieutenants A. A. C. Parr and W. H. May under his orders, started on
the 25th September with three sledges to establish a depôt of provisions
as far in advance to the north-westward as possible. Lieutenant P. Aldrich
left four days previously, with two lightly-equipped dog-sledges, to
pioneer the road round Cape Joseph Henry for the larger party. He returned
on board on the 5th of October, after an absence of thirteen days, having,
accompanied by Adam Ayles, on the 27th September, from the summit of a
mountain 2,000 feet high situated in latitude 82° 48’ North—somewhat
further north than the most northern latitude attained by their gallant
predecessor, Sir Edward Parry, in his celebrated boat and sledge journey
towards the North Pole—discovered land extending to the north-westward for
a distance of sixty miles to latitude 83° 7’, with lofty mountains in the
interior to the southward.
On the 14th October, two days after the sun had left them for its long
winter’s absence, Commander Markham’s party returned, after a journey of
nineteen days, having with very severe labour succeeded in placing a depôt
of provisions in latitude 82° 44’ north, and of tracing the coast-line
nearly two miles further north, thus reaching the exact latitude attained
by Sir Edward Parry.
Being anxious to inform Captain Stephenson of his position, and the good
prospects before his travelling parties in the following spring in
exploring the north-west coast of Greenland, Captain Nares despatched
Lieutenant Rawson to again attempt to open communication between the two
vessels, although he had grave doubts of his succeeding. Rawson was absent
from the 2nd to the 12th of October, returning unsuccessful on the latter
day, having found his road again stopped by unsafe ice within a distance
of nine miles of the ship. The broken masses of pressed up ice resting
against the cliffs, in many places more than thirty feet high, and the
accumulated deep snow-drifts in the valleys, caused very laborious and
slow travelling.
During these autumn sledging journeys, with the temperature ranging
between 15° above to 22° below zero, the heavy labour, hardships, and
discomforts inseparable from Arctic travelling, caused by the wet soft
snow, weak ice, and water spaces, which obliged the sledges to be dragged
over the hills, combined with constant strong winds and misty weather,
were, if anything, much greater than those usually experienced. Out of the
northern party of twenty-one men and three officers, no less than seven
men and one officer returned to the ship badly frost-bitten, three of
these so severely as to render amputation necessary, the patients being
confined to their beds for the greater part of the winter.
During the winter Captain Nares, assisted by his officers, did his very
best to keep the crew not merely employed, but amused. A school was
organised; and Captain Markham states, to the credit of the Royal Navy,
that out of fifty-five men on the _Alert_ there were only two who could
not read when they came on board. On both vessels there were small
printing presses, which were used specially for printing the programmes of
their entertainments, and occasionally even for striking off bills of
fare. Each Thursday(15) was devoted to lectures, concerts, readings, and
occasional theatrical performances. On the opening night—if any such
distinction could be made when all was night—the programme commenced as
follows:—“The Royal Arctic Theatre will be re-opened on Thursday next, the
18th inst. (18th November), by the powerful Dramatic Company of the
Hyperboreans, under the distinguished patronage of Captain Nares, the
Members of the Arctic Exploring Expedition, and all the Nobility and
Gentry of the neighbourhood.”
[Illustration: WINTER QUARTERS OF THE “ALERT.”]
Meantime, on the _Discovery_ something very similar was occurring. As soon
as the ice would bear it, they commenced erecting houses, including a
magnificent observatory, an ice theatre, and a smithy. The theatre was
opened on December 1st. It was the plan for plays to be produced by
officers and men alternately. The entertainments were varied by songs and
recitations, not a few of these being original. On November 5th they had a
bonfire on the ice, and burned the “Guy,” according to the usual custom,
with rockets and blue lights.
The Rev. Charles Hodson, chaplain of the vessel, says:—“As soon as the ice
was sufficiently firm, a walk of a mile in length was constructed by
shovelling away the snow. This place was generally used as an exercise
ground during the winter. We also constructed a skating-rink there. A free
hole in the ice was always kept near the ship. From time to time this
gradually closed up, and it then had to be sawn with ice saws or else
blasted with gunpowder. The dogs lived on the open floe all the winter.
The changes in the temperature are very rapid, and I have known the
variation to be as great as 60° in a few hours. The coldest weather we had
was in March, when one night the glass showed 70½° below zero.
“And now a few words as to the manner in which we kept Christmas. First of
all, in the morning we had Christmas Waits in the usual manner. A sergeant
of marines, the chief boatswain’s mate, and three others, went round the
ship singing Christmas carols suited to the occasion, and made a special
stay outside the captain’s cabin. On the lower deck in the forenoon there
were prayers, and after that captain and officers visited the mess in the
lower deck, tasted the pudding, inspected the decorations which had been
made, and so on. Then the boxes of presents given by friends in England
were brought out, the name of him for whom it was intended having been
already fixed to each box, and the presents were then distributed by the
captain. Ringing cheers, which sounded strange enough in that lone place,
were given for the donors, some of them very dear indeed to the men who
were so far away from their homes. Cheers were also given for the captain
and for absent comrades in the _Alert_. A choir was then formed, and ‘The
Roast Beef of Old England’ had its virtues praised again. The men had
their dinner at twelve o’clock, and the officers dined together at five.
We had brought fish, beef, and mutton, all of which we hung up on one of
the masts, and it was soon as hard as a brick, and perfectly preserved. We
had also brought some sheep from England with us, and they were killed
from time to time. When we arrived in Discovery Bay, as we called it, six
of them were alive, but on being landed they were worried by the dogs, and
had to be slaughtered. During the winter the men had to fetch ice from a
berg about half a mile distant from the ship in order to melt it for fresh
water. This used to be brought in sledges.
“The sun returned on the last day in February. From November till
February, with the exception of the starlight and occasional moonlight, we
had been in darkness, not by any means dense, but sufficiently murky to
excuse one for passing by a friend without knowing him.”
Captain Nares states that one day early in March, during a long
continuance of cold weather, the thermometer on the _Alert_ registered a
mean or average of minus(16) 73° 7’, or upwards of 105° below the freezing
point of water. On the _Discovery_ for seven consecutive days the
thermometer registered a mean temperature of minus 58° 17’. On the _Alert_
for thirteen days a mean temperature of minus 58° 9’ was experienced, and
for five days and nine hours a mean temperature of minus 66° 29’. During
February the mercury remained frozen for fifteen consecutive days, which
it could not have done had not the temperature remained at least 39° below
zero. Subsequently the mercury was frozen solid for an almost identical
period. One curious effect of the cold was that their breech-loading guns
sometimes proved useless, for the barrels contracted so much that the
cartridges could not be inserted. Nevertheless the huntsmen were often
out, and were fairly successful. The _Alert’s_ game-bag for winter and
early spring included six musk-oxen, twenty hares, seventy geese,
twenty-six ducks, ten ptarmigan, and three foxes. That of the _Discovery_,
in a lower latitude, was much larger as regards the oxen and hares. The
crew of the latter also killed seven seals.
And now the spring sledging season approached, and Captain Nares, anxious
to communicate with the _Discovery_, seized the first favourable
opportunity (March 12th, 1876) to despatch Sub-Lieutenant Egerton in
charge of a sledge. He was only accompanied by Lieutenant Rawson and
Christian Petersen, their interpreter. Four days afterwards the little
party returned to the ship, in consequence of the severe illness of poor
Petersen, who had succumbed to a terrible attack of frost-bite and cramp
in the stomach. His feet were almost destroyed and utterly useless; his
hands were paralysed, and his face raw. Nothing could keep him warm,
though the officers, to their credit, deprived themselves of nearly all
their thick clothing for his benefit. After very great persistence they
could, indeed, to a certain limited extent, restore the circulation to his
extremities, but it became obvious that with the existing temperatures it
would be folly to proceed with such a drag and encumbrance on their
enterprise. The temperature inside the tent at night was intensely cold,
and they had to burrow out a snow hut for the use of the sufferer. Even
inside this all the means at their command did not suffice to raise the
temperature much above zero, it being 24° below zero at the time in the
open air. The hut was simply a hole about six feet by four, and six feet
deep, covered over with the tent-sledge, &c., and it had occupied them six
hours even to accomplish this much for their patient’s comfort. Lieutenant
Egerton says, in his report to Captain Nares, that Petersen, when asked if
he was warm in his feet and hands, constantly responded in the
affirmative, but that when examined by them they were found to be gelid
and hard. The fact was that all feeling had departed; and it occupied
Egerton and Rawson two hours on one occasion to restore circulation to his
feet, which they eventually succeeded in doing by rubbing them with their
hands and flannels. Leaving a part of their provisions and outfit, they,
at eight o’clock on the morning of March 15th, were under way on their
return to the vessel. With some assistance, Petersen, after taking a dose
of thirty drops of sal-volatile and a little rum—the only thing, indeed,
which he could keep on his stomach—got over the first portion of the
journey, which was the worst; and as soon as the travelling became easier
he was lashed on the sledge and covered with robes. His circulation was so
feeble that his face and hands were constantly frost-bitten and his limbs
cramped, entailing frequent stoppages, while the two officers did their
best to restore the affected parts. This happened over and over again; and
there can be no doubt that both Egerton and Rawson behaved in the most
humane and heroic manner, suffering as they were in some degree from
frost-bite themselves, and having the constant care of the sledge and nine
unruly dogs, while the preparations for camping and cooking, into the
bargain, fell to their lot. On arrival at the ship every care was taken to
relieve Petersen, but eventually his feet had to be amputated, while not
all the professional skill and unremitting care of Dr. Colan could save
his life. He expired from utter exhaustion three months afterwards. The
two brave officers just mentioned, accompanied by two seamen, subsequently
made a successful trip to and from the _Discovery_, and afterwards there
was frequent communication, as well as co-operation, on the part of both
crews, in regard to some of the sledging parties.
[Illustration: AN “ALERT” SLEDGE PARTY EN ROUTE TO THE “DISCOVERY.”]
It would be undesirable to attempt the description in detail of the whole
of the many sledge expeditions which were sent out in various directions
from both vessels. Among the more important may be named that under
Lieutenant Beaumont, of the _Discovery_, who, crossing the difficult,
broken, and sometimes moving ice of Robeson Channel, explored the
Greenland shores to lat. 82° 18’ N. Scurvy made its appearance in a
virulent form among his men, only one thoroughly escaping its ravages. The
party, in detachments, reached the depôt at Polaris Bay with the greatest
difficulty, and not before two poor fellows had succumbed. Soon after the
return journey of those who had proceeded furthest had commenced the whole
party was attacked by the insidious disease, until at last Lieutenant
Beaumont and two others had to drag the other four, who were rendered
absolutely _hors de combat_. The sledge, with its living burden, had
always to make the journey twice, and often thrice, over the same road,
and that a rough and difficult route over broken and hummocky ice.
“Nevertheless,” says Captain Nares, “the gallant band struggled manfully
onwards, thankful if they made one mile a day, but never losing heart.” A
relief party, consisting of Lieutenant Rawson and Dr. Coppinger, with
Hans, an Esquimaux, and a dog-sledge, went out in search of them, and met
them providentially, just as even the two hardiest of the men were giving
in. Indeed, for part of the journey the hauling was performed entirely by
the three officers. How thankful were they to at length reach a pleasant
haven—Polaris Bay, the spot so intimately connected, as we shall hereafter
see, with the memory of poor Hall, the American explorer, and where
Captain Stephenson, of the _Discovery_, had a little while before
performed a thoughtful and graceful act in erecting over his grave a
tablet and head-board! At Polaris Bay most of the invalids soon recruited,
and some of this happy result was due to the fact that those able to get
about were successful in shooting game enough to furnish a daily ration of
fresh meat. When they eventually reached their vessel they had been absent
132 days, a long outing in the Arctic regions.
There were so many parties in the field at one time that we must confine
ourselves very much to results, as our narrative would otherwise be a
series of repetitions. Lieutenant Archer, of the _Discovery_, explored
Lady Franklin Sound, proving that it terminates at a distance of
sixty-five miles from the mouth with lofty mountains and glacier-filled
valleys; while Lieutenant Fulford and Dr. Coppinger examined Petermann
Fiord, finding it terminate in the precipitous cliff of a glacier. A seam
of excellent coal, 250 yards long and over eight yards thick, was found
near the winter quarters of the _Discovery_. Lieutenant Aldrich, of the
_Alert_, made a detailed exploration of the northern shores of Grinnell
Land for 220 miles, the main gist of his discoveries being that there was
no appearance of land to its northward; and no doubt some will see in this
another argument in favour of the “open” Polar Sea theory, to which we
have already alluded. When, on his return, he was met by a relief party
under Lieutenant May, only one of his men was able to drag with him at the
ropes. Four men were being carried, while two struggled on by the side of
the sledge. The scurvy here, as with all the parties, attacked the men,
leaving the officers scatheless.
The journey, however, which we are about to briefly describe, was the most
interesting of any undertaken on the expedition under review. Commander
Markham and Lieutenant Parr, pushing forward almost due north, over and
among the stupendous masses of ice which covered the Polar Sea, after many
a weary struggle reached the highest latitude ever attained—viz., 83° 20’
26" N. Parry has now to resign the place of honour which he had held for
close on half a century.
This division was known as the “Northern,” in contra-distinction to the
“Western,” the “Greenland,” and others, and consisted of thirty-three
officers and men, while an additional sledge, with four men, accompanied
them for a few days to form a depôt of provisions some distance from the
ship for use on their return should they have run short. Of the
thirty-three engaged, it was not supposed that all would proceed to the
furthest point; but Dr. Moss, and Mr. White one of the engineers, having
charge of the third and fourth sledges, went with the understanding that
they should assist the party to pass the heavy barrier of stranded
floe-bergs bordering the coast. Each of the sledges had its own name;
indeed, this was true of all those employed. Those of the northern
division were the _Marco Polo_, _Victoria_, _Bulldog_, and _Alexandra_.
Two boats, equipped and provisioned for seventy days, were taken. In an
interesting paper read before a meeting of the Royal Geographical Society
by Captain Markham, on December 12th, 1876, he stated that the sledges to
which they gave a decided preference were what are commonly called the
eight-man sledges, each crew consisting of an officer and seven men. The
extreme weight of these when packed and fully equipped for an extended
journey, on leaving the ship, was 1,700lbs., or at the rate of 220lbs. to
240lbs. per man to drag. The tents, each sledge crew being provided with
one, were eleven feet in length, affording a little under fourteen inches
space for each man to sleep in, the breadth of the tent being about the
length of a man. The costume was composed of duffle, a woollen material
resembling thick blanket, over which was worn a suit of duck to act as a
“snow repeller.” Their feet were encased in blanket wrappers, thick
woollen hose, and mocassins. Snow spectacles were invariably worn. After
their first adoption they were comparatively exempt from snow blindness.
They slept in duffle sleeping bags, and their tent robes were made of the
same material. They had three meals a day. Breakfast during the intensely
cold weather was always discussed in their bags. It consisted of a
pannikin full of cocoa, and the same amount of pemmican with biscuit. The
pemmican was always mixed with a proportion of preserved potatoes. After
marching for about five or six hours a halt was called for luncheon. This
meal consisted of a pannikin of warm tea, with 4ozs. of bacon and a little
biscuit to each man. When the weather was intensely cold, or there was any
wind, this meal was a very trying one. They were frequently compelled to
wait as long as an hour and a half before the tea was ready, during which
time they had to keep continually on the move to avoid frost-bite. The
question, “Does it boil?” was constantly heard; and the refractory
behaviour of the kettle tried the unfortunate cook’s temper and patience
to the utmost. After the day’s march—sometimes ten to eleven, and even
twelve working hours—had terminated, and every one was comfortably settled
in his bag, supper, consisting of tea and pemmican, was served, after
which pipes were lighted, and the daily allowance of spirits issued to
those who were not total abstainers. The mid-day tea was found most
refreshing and invigorating, and it was infinitely preferred by the men to
the old custom of serving half the allowance of grog at that time.
[Illustration: SUNSHINE IN THE POLAR REGIONS.]
The party started on April 3rd (1876) from the vessel, and for a few days,
although the route was difficult, made fair progress. The men were in good
health and spirits, and, except a few trifling cases of snow blindness,
there were no casualties to report. The reader will not need to be
informed that snow blindness is produced by the intense glitter of the
sunlight on the snow crystals. Even as early as April 6th we read in
Markham’s “Journal”(17) of a beautiful sunny day, when the temperature was
35° below zero, and everything frozen stiff and hard. When as far as the
eyes can reach in any direction there is nothing but a dazzlingly white
field of snow or snow-covered hummocks, the effect is extremely painful,
and, indeed, would soon render them weak and sore, and eventually blind,
but for the use of “goggles” in some form. In the various journals of the
expedition we read of different kinds, made of coloured or smoked glass,
&c. The writer has seen among the natives of Northern Alaska, and has
himself used, _wooden_ goggles. Covering each eye is an oval piece of
wood, usually painted black, scooped out like and about the size of the
bowl of a dessert-spoon, with a narrow, straight slit cut through the
middle. These, with the leather strips by which they are tied on, look
clumsy enough, but were found effectual in use. Among natives even,
accustomed to the glare on the snow, who had neglected their use in
spring, one might often note those with swollen, red, and weak eyes.
To return to our expedition. On reaching a depôt made at Cape Joseph Henry
(Grinnell Land), the point from which they would leave the land, the party
was re-arranged; only fifteen men with three sledges, carrying a weight of
6,079 pounds in all, were to form the northern party, which, under Markham
and Parr, would proceed direct “to sea.” It is needless to say that it was
a sea of ice, and very ancient ice also, making the travelling
correspondingly difficult from the enormous size of the hummocks and
extent of their fields. Perhaps the entries appended to each day’s travel
in Markham’s “Journal” will give as good an idea of the difficulty and the
tortuous nature of their route, and of the frequency of their trips over
the same road being duplicated and triplicated, as any direct description.
We find constantly entries like the following:—“Course and distance made
good north four miles. Distance marched, thirteen miles.” This is a mild
example. It was found impossible to move the whole of their heavy loads at
one time. Indeed, during a large part of the journey but one sledge at a
time could be dragged forward. This entailed returning _twice_, and in
effect making _five_ trips over the same route, thus: forward with number
one; return and forward with number two; return and forward with number
three, the process being repeated as long as the endurance of the party
was equal to it. One mile of progress became therefore five of actual
travel; in some cases, where the parties on the return journeys had become
enfeebled, and had to be carried on the sledges, _three_ returns had to be
made by the working members, thus entailing _seven_ trips over the same
route. Markham’s “Journal” for April 10th has, “Distance made good, one
mile. Distance marched, seven.” On the 12th it was as one and a half to
nine, on the 17th as one and a quarter to nine, and on the 18th as one to
ten, the latter taking ten hours to accomplish. The writer can understand
all this well, having in a minor degree had the same experiences in
Northern Alaska, where the winters are only a shade less severe than in
these extreme latitudes.(18)
The men were now dragging 405 lbs. apiece, and the exertion and severe
climate were beginning to tell upon them. The symptoms of scurvy were
plain enough, and on the 19th we do not wonder to find Markham determining
to leave one of his boats. “Before quitting the boat an oar was lashed to
the mast, and the mast stepped, yard hoisted, and decorated with some old
clothes,” in order that they might be sure to find it on their return. No
wonder the men worked a little livelier shortly afterwards, for they were
thus relieved of dragging a matter of 800 lbs. Two of them, however, were
already prostrated with scurvy, and had to be carried on the sledges. In
journeying to the northward the route seldom lay over smooth ice, and the
somewhat level floes, or fields, were thickly studded over with rounded,
blue-topped ice humps, ten or twenty feet high, laying sometimes in
ranges, but more often separated, at a distance of 100 to 200 yards apart,
the depressions between being filled with snow, deeply scored into ridges
by the wind, the whole composition being well comparable to a suddenly
frozen oceanic sea. Separating the floes were “hedges” of ice masses,
often forty to fifty feet high, or more, thrown together in irregular and
chaotic confusion, and where there was little choice of a road over,
through, or round about them. Among and around these, again, were
steep-sided snow-drifts, sloping down from the highest altitude of the
piled-up masses to the general level. “The journey,” says Captain Nares in
the general report, “was consequently an incessant battle to overcome
ever-recurring obstacles, each hard-won success stimulating them for the
next struggle. A passage way had always to be cut through the squeezed-up
ice with pick-axes, an extra one being carried for the purpose, and an
incline picked out of the perpendicular side of the high floes, or roadway
built up, before the sledges, generally one at a time, could be brought
on. Instead of advancing with a steady walk, the usual means of
progression, more than half of each day was expended by the whole party
facing the sledge and pulling it forward a few feet at a time.”
Occasionally a little “young ice,” which had formed between the split-up
floes of ancient date, would afford them better travelling, but this
luxury was not often found. As the warmer weather approached—anything
above zero was considered warm—they were much troubled by wind, snow-fall,
and foggy weather. On April 30th so thick was it that they could scarcely
see the length of two sledges ahead, and as they were surrounded by
hummocks they were obliged to halt, for fear of becoming entangled. It
would be wearisome to the reader to enlarge upon similar experiences,
which were of daily occurrence.
[Illustration: A SLEDGE PARTY STARTING FOR CAPE JOSEPH HENRY.]
They had on May 11th exceeded by several days the time for which they were
provisioned, and so many of the men were, from the weakening effects of
scurvy, actually _hors de combat_, or as nearly as possible useless, that
it was determined to make a camp in which to leave the invalids, while the
rest should push on for one final “spurt.” On the morning of the 12th,
therefore, leaving the cooks to attend upon the sufferers, the remainder
of the party, carrying the sextant and artificial horizon, and also the
sledge-banners and colours, started northwards. “We had,” says Markham,
“some very severe walking, struggling through snow up to our waists, over
or through which the labour of dragging a sledge would be interminable,
and occasionally almost disappearing through cracks and fissures, until
twenty minutes to noon, when a halt was called. The artificial horizon was
then set up, and the flags and banners displayed, these fluttering out
bravely before a S.W. wind, which latter, however, was decidedly cold and
unpleasant. At noon we obtained a good altitude, and proclaimed our
latitude to be 83° 20’ 26" N., exactly 399½ miles from the North Pole. On
this being duly announced, three cheers were given, with one more for
Captain Nares; then the whole party, in the exuberance of their spirits at
having reached their turning-point, sang the ‘Union Jack of Old England,’
the grand Palæcrystic sledging chorus, winding up, like loyal subjects,
with ‘God Save the Queen.’ These little demonstrations had a good effect
on the spirits of the men, and on their return to the camp a second
celebration, in which even the invalids joined, occurred, when a magnum of
whisky, that had been sent by Scotch friends to be consumed at the highest
latitude attained, was produced, and the steaming grog, so dear to the
sailor’s heart, was brewed. At supper, a hare, shot by Dr. Moss shortly
before they parted company at Depôt Point, was added to their usual fare
of pemmican, and in the evening, cigars, presented to them by Lieutenant
May before leaving the ship, were issued to each man. The day was brought
to a close with songs, and general hilarity prevailed.
[Illustration: ARRIVAL OF LIEUTENANT PARR ON BOARD THE “ALERT.”]
Markham speaks of their attempt almost as a failure. It was, however, the
greatest success of the expedition, although unhappily purchased at the
expense of one life. Passing over the return journey, we find that on the
evening of June 8th Lieutenant Parr, who had volunteered to take singly
and alone the sad intelligence that nearly the whole party were prostrated
with scurvy, arrived at the ship. Commander Markham and the few men who
were able to keep on their feet had succeeded by veritable “forced
marches” in conveying the invalids to the neighbourhood of Cape Joseph
Henry, thirty miles distant from the ship; but each day was adding to the
intensity of the disease, and lessening the power of those still able to
work. Parr, with brave determination, started alone, with only an
alpenstock and a small allowance of provisions, and completed his long and
solitary walk over a very rough icy road, deeply covered with newly-fallen
snow, within twenty-four hours. If, indeed, a large part of Markham’s
party could have done it at all, it would have taken them, with their
heavy loads, a week to ten days to accomplish the same distance. No time
was lost in making arrangements for their succour, and Captain Nares
himself, with two strong detachments, started at midnight. By making
forced marches, Lieutenant May, Dr. Moss, and a seaman, with a light
dog-sledge, laden with appropriate medical stores, reached the camp fifty
hours from the time that Lieutenant Parr had left it, but, unfortunately,
too late to save the life of George Porter, gunner R.M.A., who had expired
a few hours previously, and was already buried in the snow. Of the
original seventeen members of the party, only five—the two officers and
three of the men—were able to drag the sledges. Three others manfully kept
to their feet to the last, but were so weak that they were constantly
falling, and sometimes fainting, while the remaining eight had utterly
succumbed, and had to be carried on the sledges.
This is not the place for a medical discussion. Captain Nares’ conduct in
partially neglecting to supply the parties with sufficient of that great
anti-scorbutic, lime-juice, has been severely handled, and not without
some show of justice. On the other hand, it must be remembered that the
disease attacked a part of the crews who had _remained_ on both vessels
and had been well supplied with all dietary and medical necessaries. At
one time thirty-six cases were under treatment on the _Alert_, making it
resemble a naval hospital.
Captain Nares may be allowed to give in brief his reasons for returning
home that season. The enfeebled state of his crew precluded the hope that,
even when recovered, they would accomplish as much as, or at all events
more than, had been already done. He believes that from any position in
Smith’s Sound attainable by a ship it would be impossible to advance
nearer the Pole by sledges. Furthermore, that all that he could have hoped
to accomplish by stopping another winter was perhaps an extended
exploration of Grant Land to the south-westward, and Greenland for perhaps
fifty miles further to the north-eastward or eastward. And to his credit
it must be scored that he brought the vessels home in nearly as good
condition as they would have returned from any foreign station. After many
a fight with the elements and many an encounter with the ice, the _Alert_
and _Discovery_ reached our shores safely on October 27th, 1876. The
reader knows the rest, and if he is of our mind will not grudge the
honours bestowed on men who, if they had not accomplished all that was
expected, had at least done more than any of their predecessors in the
frozen fields of the far north.