HALL’S EXPEDITION—THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN EXPEDITION—NORDENSKJÖLD.
Captain Hall’s Expedition—High Latitude Attained—Open Water
Seen—Death of Hall—The _Polaris_ Beset—An Abandoned Party—Six
Months on a Floating Ice-floe—Rescue—Loss of the
Steamer—Investigation at Washington—The Austro-Hungarian
Expedition—The _Tegethoff_ hopelessly Beset in the Ice—Two Long
Weary Years—Perils from the Ice Pressure—Ramparts raised round the
Ship—The Polar Night—Loss of a Coal-hut—Attempts to Escape—A Grand
Discovery—Franz Josef Land—Sledging Parties—Gigantic Glaciers—The
Steamer Abandoned—Boat and Sledge Journey to the Bay of
Downs—Prof. Nordenskjöld’s Voyage—The North-East Passage an
accomplished Fact.
But little record has been made, except in transient literature and
Government reports, of the expedition concerning which we are about to
write. Captain Charles Francis Hall’s name is, with the public, more
intimately associated with “Life with the Esquimaux,” and but little with
the fact that he succeeded in taking a vessel to a higher latitude than
ever reached in that way before. He returned to America in 1869, having
for five years lived with, and to a great extent _as_ the natives, the
result being that, excepting many errors of taste and style, he succeeded
in producing a work which has a very special ethnological value. Before it
had issued from the press, he had, encouraged by the then Secretary of the
United States Navy, laid a plan before Congress for attempting to reach
the North Pole _viâ_ Smith Sound. He eventually succeeded in obtaining a
grant of fifty thousand dollars for the purpose, while an old U.S. river
gun-boat was placed at his disposal. She was re-named the _Polaris_. It
was understood that no naval officer should accompany him, and he
therefore engaged a whaling captain, one S. O. Buddington, to navigate the
vessel. Two scientific gentlemen, Dr. Bessels and Mr. Meyer, accompanied
him, as did Morton, Kane’s trusty friend, who has been so often mentioned
in these pages.
The expedition sailed in the summer of 1871, and after having touched at
Disco, Greenland, proceeded up Smith Sound, Kane Basin, and Kennedy
Channel, across Polaris Bay (discovered and designated by Hall),
eventually reaching 82° 16’ N., the highest latitude ever attained by a
ship prior to Captain Nares’s expedition. Ice impeded their further
progress. The strait into which they had entered was named after Mr.
Robeson, and from the point which they had so speedily and easily
attained, a water horizon was seen to the north-east. The vessel was laid
up in a harbour named Thank-God Bay, where Captain Hall, after sundry
minor explorations, died on November 8th, having endured severe suffering,
the symptoms indicating paralysis and congestion of the brain. During his
delirium he had expressed the opinion that they were trying to poison him,
and before he would touch medicine, food, or wine, he made his clerk taste
it. This being repeated at home, on the return of the expedition, a
Government investigation of a careful and detailed nature took place at
Washington, but led to nothing being elicited beyond the facts of a want
of _esprit de corps_ among some of the members, and that there had been
some disagreeable dissensions on board. Captain Buddington had no ambition
to distinguish himself in the field of science, which he evidently
despised, being probably what is called a “practical” man—that is, one who
must have immediate gain before his eyes to stir him to exertion—and there
does not appear to have been any very earnest feeling on the part of the
others. Hall died almost on the spot with which his name must ever be
associated, and it is a melancholy fact that he should not have lived to
reap the honours and rewards due to so much enterprise. The _Polaris_, a
steam vessel of small power, and unadapted for the Arctic seas, had been
taken to a point which the finest vessels ever employed in the exploration
of the far north had previously failed in reaching.
[Illustration: THE FUNERAL OF CAPTAIN HALL.]
The death of Captain Hall threw the command of the _Polaris_ on Captain
Buddington. In the second week of November, during a very heavy gale, the
vessel dragged her anchors, but at last brought up safely in the lee of a
large iceberg aground in the bay. She was made fast to it, and remained in
that position for some time. During the winter and spring she was much
damaged by the ice, and when she once more floated, in June, leaked badly.
After sending out an expedition to Newman’s Bay, during the progress of
which one of the boats was crushed like a nutshell by the grinding ice,
Captain Buddington determined to sail for the United States. On August
15th the _Polaris_ was in a position so dangerous among the ice that it
was deemed necessary to place the boats with provisions on a large level
floe, in order to prepare for contingencies. A dark night came on, a gale
arose, and the steamer drifted away in an utterly unmanageable condition,
her steam-pipes, valves, &c., being frozen up. For hours they could not
get up steam on board, while they had little coal, and the boats were on
the ice.
The condition of those left in charge of the boats and stores on the ice
was apparently desperate. Tyson, the second officer, with the steward,
cook, six sailors, and eight Esquimaux, passed a miserable night on the
drifting floe. Next morning hope revived in their breasts when they saw
the _Polaris_ apparently steaming towards them, and all kinds of attempts
were made to attract attention: an india-rubber blanket was hoisted on an
oar, but all to no purpose. The steamer altered her course, disappearing
behind a point of the land, and eighteen deserted beings were destined to
a series of experiences similar to those recorded of the _Hansa_ men. At
the Washington investigation, it was shown that the captain had at the
time hopes of saving his vessel, which, after all, had to be run ashore on
Lyttelton Island, in a sinking condition. As they had the boats and a
supply of provisions, he considered their condition better than his own.
The men on the ice did their best under the circumstances, and their
experiences were hardly less eventful than those of the Germans in a
similar strait. Their food became scarce as the winter advanced, but the
Esquimaux were of considerable use to them in catching seals. They passed
nearly six months on the drifting ice-floe (from October 15th, 1872, to
April 1st, 1873), and when at length they left it, and were rescued by the
sealing steamer _Tigress_, we can well imagine the revulsion of feeling
described in their evidence before the Washington committee. Meantime the
_Polaris_ herself was ashore on Lyttelton Island, where Buddington, his
officers and men, fourteen souls in all, had to pass the winter,
fortunately under no great privations, as the stores were saved. They were
eventually rescued by the _Ravenscraig_, a steam-whaler, and later, having
been transferred to the whaler _Arctic_, reached Dundee, and eventually
their own homes, in safety. In spite of the perils encountered by both
parties, Captain Hall was the only one of the little band who did not live
to reach his native land.
The Americans have, therefore, as we have indicated, stuck bravely to the
Smith Sound route to the Pole, and a large proportion of English and
foreign authorities still favour the same idea.
We have seen the staunch little _Fox_ of M’Clintock’s expedition
miraculously escape from the grinding surging ice after a detention of 242
days, any one of which might easily have been the last for its brave
company; we have witnessed, in mental vision, the philosophical German
crew of the ill-fated _Hansa_ drifting 1,100 miles on their precarious
ice-raft, to be saved, every man of them, at last; and we have just seen
half of the _Polaris_ men rescued from their peril on the floating
ice-field after nearly six months of weary watching. Turn we now to one
more example of the dangers of the Arctic seas to find a vessel to all
appearance hopelessly encompassed in the ice-drifts, and destined not to
make its escape before two long and dreary years had passed away.
When in 1874 the Austro-Hungarian expedition, after a long absence, during
which nothing had been heard from it, returned in safety, many fears which
had been felt were sensibly allayed; and when the public learned of the
difficulties they had encountered and the grand discoveries made, it was
generally voted a complete success. This expedition, under Lieutenant
Weyprecht of the Navy and Lieutenant Payer of the Engineers—who had
already made himself a name as an Arctic explorer in the second German
expedition—had been partly organised at the expense of the public, and
greatly aided by Count Wilczek, who accompanied it in his yacht as far as
Barents Island. A very small steamer—no more than 220 tons—named the
_Tegethoff_, was employed, and among its officers was Captain Carlsen, who
it will be remembered, had circumnavigated Spitzbergen some time before,
and was the discoverer of the Barents relics; he served in the capacity of
ice-master. The crew, all told, only numbered twenty-four men. The
expedition sailed from Bremerhaven on June 13th, 1872, provisioned for
three years, and was soon among the ice of the north-east. Early in August
the vessel became beset in such a manner that progress was next to
impossible. “Subsequently,” says Lieutenant Payer, “we regained our
liberty, and in latitude 75° N. we reached the open water extending along
the coast of Novaya Zemlya. The decrease in temperature and quantity of
ice showed, indeed, that the summer of 1872 was the very opposite of that
of the year before.” The vessels kept company as far as the low Barents
Islands, where the “thick-ribbed ice,” agitated and driven on the coast by
winds and gales, stopped their progress for a week. On the 21st of August
the _Tegethoff_ got clear, and left her consort, the former steaming
slowly towards the north. “Our hopes,” says Payer, “were vain. Night found
us encompassed on all sides by ice, and (as it eventually proved) for two
long and dreary years! Cheerless and barren of all hope the first year lay
before us, and we were not any longer discoverers, but doomed to remain as
helpless voyagers on a floe of drifting ice.” This is, so far as is known,
the longest period for which a vessel has been ice-encompassed, and the
reader will require no assistance to picture the apparently hopeless
condition in which they found themselves, with but little prospect of
accomplishing anything approaching exploration. With the autumn of 1872
came unusually severe weather, which caused the ice-blocks to re-freeze as
soon as they were sawn asunder, and they were utterly unable to extricate
the vessel, although every effort was made. On October 13th the ice broke
up, and the collisions of and with enormous masses placed them in great
danger. They were quite ignorant of their position and where they were
drifting. In the sombre darkness of the long Arctic night they had to keep
the boats and stores in readiness, as they might have to abandon the
vessel at any moment. The floes were constantly uplifted by other ice
underneath, but the little _Tegethoff_ proved herself staunch and true.
Eventually a rampart of ice was erected about the little vessel, which had
to be continually watched and repaired, on account of the damage received
from the pressure of surrounding ice. Amidst all these dangers the routine
of the ship was admirably kept up. Divine service was observed, and a
school established for the crew. The men suffered severely from scurvy and
pulmonary complaints during the winter.
In the autumn of 1873 an important discovery was made. “We had,” says
Payer, “long ago drifted into a portion of the Arctic sea which had not
previously been visited; but in spite of a careful look-out we had not
been able hitherto to discover land. It was, therefore, an event of no
small importance, when, on the 31st of August, we were surprised by the
sudden appearance of a mountainous country, about fourteen miles to the
north, which the mist had up till that time concealed from our view.” They
had no opportunity of reaching it until the end of October, when a landing
was effected in lat. 79° 54’ N., on an island, lying off the mainland, to
which they affixed the name of Count Wilczek, to whom the expedition had
in great measure owed its existence. Their second Polar night of 125 days
prevented any further exploration, but was passed without a recurrence of
the dangers they had met the previous winter. Their winter quarters were
comparatively safe, and being near the land they obtained a sufficiency of
bear-meat, the animals often approaching the ship closely.
[Illustration: START OF LIEUT. PAYER’S SLEDGE EXPEDITION.]
In the winter of 1874 several sledging parties were sent out. On the 24th
of March, Lieutenant Payer, with six companions, left the vessel, dragging
a large sledge freighted with provisions and stores to the extent of
three-fourths of a ton. They succeeded in reaching the new land, after
many a struggle with the ice-hummocks, snow-drifts, and floods of
sea-water which had submerged some parts of the ice. Their difficulties
were increased by the fact that a once fine team of dogs was reduced to
three capable of being of service. Payer describes the new land as broken
up by numerous inlets and fiords, and surrounded by innumerable islands.
The mountains were of fair altitude—from 2,000 to 5,000 feet in
height—while the glaciers in the valleys were of gigantic size, and formed
a great feature in the wild scenery. Some visited “were characterised by
their greenish-blue colour, the paucity of crevasses, and extraordinarily
coarse-grained ice.” The vegetation was poor, as might be expected. To
this hitherto unknown land the name of the Emperor Franz Josef was
affixed. The party reached the high latitude of 81° 37’ N.
[Illustration: FALL OF THE SLEDGE INTO A CREVASSE.]
The return journey to the vessel was made successfully, although the
scarcity of provisions obliged them to make forced marches, and also
necessitated a division of the party remaining behind under a cliff on
Hohenlohe Island, while Payer, with two of the crew and a small sledge,
pressed forward for aid. Crossing an enormous glacier on Crown Prince
Rudolf Land, one of the men, the sledge and dogs, fell into a gigantic
crevasse which the snow had concealed. Payer himself might have come to
grief had not he had presence of mind enough to cut the harness by which
he was attached to the sledge. For a time the case looked very bad, as
they were unable to extricate the unfortunate explorer. Payer, however,
with that quickness which is one of his distinguishing characteristics,
immediately ran back some twelve miles to the other party, and obtained
assistance. They had eventually the happiness of rescuing the man, &c., by
means of ropes. After many perils in the journey over the rotten ice they
succeeded in joining the anxious little band on the vessel. Alas! the
_Tegethoff_, which had passed unscathed so many dangers, had to be
abandoned in the ice, and a journey by boat and sledge commenced, very
similar to that of Barents, made three centuries before. After mournfully
nailing the flags to the ship’s mast, on May 20th they started on their
doubtful and adventurous trip. It took them over three months (ninety-six
days) to reach the Bay of Downs, in lat 72° 4’, where they happily met a
Russian schooner, and their troubles were over.
And now to the Arctic expedition which stands out pre-eminently above
almost any other whatever. Professor Nordenskjöld may be congratulated on
having performed the most intrepid and daring feat of the present century,
speaking in a geographical point of view. The North-East Passage has been
accomplished. “The splendid success,” said a leading journal, “has been
splendidly deserved. It was no lucky accident of exploration that found
the _Vega_ a way round the northernmost point of Asia, or chance good
fortune that carried her through new seas to the Behrings Straits.
Professor Nordenskjöld has fought it out fairly with Nature. The combat
has been a long one, and round after round had to be toughly contested
before the Professor closed with his opponent, the Arctic Ocean, and
floored the grim old tyrant. Six times he has gone northward to do battle
with ice and snow, and each time, though returning, he has brought back
such knowledge of the enemy’s weakness that assured him of ultimate
success.” Unfortunately the details as yet at hand are meagre, and only
the bare outlines of the story can be presented. Some of the important
scientific results of the expedition will be referred to in future pages.
The _Vega_, a tough, teak-built steam whaler, left Gothenburg on July 4th,
1878, sighted Nova Zembla on the 28th, and anchored that day off a village
on the Samoyede peninsula at the entrance of the Kara Sea, once known as
the Ice Cave, but which of late has lost its terrors for even the hardy
Norwegian fisherman. Nordenskjöld knew the right season to attempt its
passage, and it was surprised when almost free of ice. On August 1st,
after making many scientific observations of importance, the _Vega_
proceeded slowly eastward, nothing but rotten ice, which in no way impeded
the vessel, being met. In a few days they were safely anchored in
Dickson’s Haven, Siberia, a spot perhaps destined to become an important
exporting point. Bears and reindeer were found to be numerous, and the
vegetation extremely rich. On the 10th the _Vega_ again proceeded, and
threading her way through unknown islands, reached a fine harbour situated
in the strait that separates Taimyr Island and the mainland, where they
dredged for marine specimens with great success. Again resuming the
voyage, they, on the evening of the 19th, anchored in a bay round Cape
Chelyuskin, the most northerly point of the Asiatic continent. This, the
once unconquerable cape, had now been conquered, and that fact alone would
have constituted a splendid triumph, although it now only forms an episode
in this grand voyage. Low mountains, free from snow, were seen to the
southward; geese, ducks, and other birds were seen on the coast, while the
ocean was alive with walrus, seals, and whales. On the 21st, though
delayed by fogs and rotten ice, the _Vega_ coasted south-east; and on the
23rd, aided by a fine breeze and a smooth sea, was able to dispense with
steam. At the Chatanga river they shot bears and wild fowl to their
heart’s desire. On the 26th they passed the entrance to the mouth of the
Lena, and on the 27th turned northward for the Siberian Islands, which
they were prevented from exploring, owing to the ice. Nordenskjöld ordered
the vessel’s head to be turned southward, and they passed the mouth of the
great Kolyma river. Soon they were among the ice, and, as they had
anticipated, were to be imprisoned in it. But the health of the party was
excellent, and no scurvy whatever appeared; their own provisions were of
the best; and after passing Cook’s Cape, Vankarema, the _Vega_ crossed to
Kolintchin, where the furnaces were put out, the sails stowed, and winter
life fairly commenced. At a mile distance ashore there was a Tchuktchi
village of 4,000 souls, all living easily, for fish and seals, bear, wolf,
and fox, were abundant, while in spring the geese, swans, and ducks,
returned from the south. For nearly nine months they were ice-bound; but
at last the ice floes broke up and scattered, and the little _Vega_ soon
passed East Cape, the extremity of Asia, and steamed gaily into Behring
Straits, where a salute was fired, announcing a success unprecedented in
the annals of Arctic history. The Professor believes that voyages may be
regularly performed in the future which will open up a considerable trade
with northern Siberia.
Surrounded by almost every conceivable difficulty and danger, Arctic
research has witnessed and developed more genuinely heroic skill and
enterprise than has been needed or found in the exploration of any other
portion of our globe. With all its dangers the North Polar world possesses
a rare fascination for the adventurous, and has something to offer in
palliation of its monotonous desolation. The yet unknown must always have
charms for the greatest minds, even though it should prove practically
unknowable; the undiscovered may not always be so, for the unfathomed of
the past may be fathomed to-day. The Polar regions offer much to the
scientist, and, in some phases, much to the artist. The beautiful Aurora
flashes over the scene and banishes the darkness of the Arctic night. The
vastness of Nature’s operations are shown in the huge icebergs clad in
dazzling whiteness or glittering in the moon’s silvery rays in the
interminable fields of fixed or floating ice, in glacial rivers of
grandest size. As the bergs melting in the warmer waves assume endless
fantastic forms—as of pointed spires, jagged steeples, or castellated
remains, and as, losing the centre of gravity, they roll over to assume
new forms, or meeting together crash like thunder or the roar of
artillery, throwing up great volumes of foam, disturbing the surface of
the sea for miles, the puniness of man is felt, and the mind inevitably
lifted from Nature up “to Nature’s God.”
Much has been done; still, there is yet work which remains to be
accomplished in the Arctic seas. But brave men will never be wanting when
new attempts are made. As the old sea-captain, looking at the chart in
Millais’ picture, says, concerning the North-West Passage, “It might be
done—and England ought to do it!”