of the expedition in "The Open Polar Sea," gave rise to persistent and
adverse criticism both as to the soundness of his judgment and also as
to the accuracy of his observations. Three expeditions, by their later
surveys, have demonstrated that the astronomical position assigned by
Hayes to his "farthest" on the east coast of Grinnell Land is
impossible. There is unmistakably an error either of latitude or of
longitude. Cape Joseph Goode, it is to be remarked, is in the longitude
assigned by Hayes, while Cape Lieber is no less than six and a half
degrees to the eastward; reversely, Lieber corresponds nearly to Hayes's
latitude, while Cape Joseph Goode is a degree and a half to the south.
Grave and undisputable errors in other latitudes, all being too far to
the north, indicate that the mistake in this instance is also of
latitude. In justice to Hayes it should be said that the latitude of his
"farthest" depended solely on a single observation with a small field
sextant of the meridian altitude of the sun. While this is the common
method on shipboard it is exceedingly objectionable in Arctic land
determinations. It depends not only on the honesty of the observer, but
on the condition of the sextant and also on the manner in which it is
handled; either of these three qualities being faulty the observation is
incorrect. The tendency of the sextant to "slip," as it is turned over
for reading, and the almost invariably benumbed condition of the hands
of the traveller, indicate the extreme difficulty of making any single
reading with accuracy. Again, with haste demanded so often by adverse
circumstances, the index of a very small sextant may be misread a whole
degree. It is unquestioned that one or the other of these accidents
happened to Hayes, for the independent investigations of Bessels,
Schott, and others lead to the inevitable conclusion, which any
scientist may verify by examination of Hayes's widely separated data,
that his "farthest" is placed too far north. The consensus of opinion in
the Lady Franklin expedition pointed to Cape Joseph Goode, 80° 14´ N.,
as Hayes's "farthest," as it agreed better with Hayes's description than
any other point; it may be added that from this cape Hayes could not
see the Greenland coast above Cape Constitution, which he leaves blank
on his chart, and again, here the unusually heavy spring tides, of
nearly twenty-five-foot range, break up the southern half of the floes
of Kennedy Channel, thus forming early in the year large
water-spaces--the Open Polar Sea of Hayes and Morton.
Even if Hayes's sight of the Open Polar Sea proved visionary, and
certain unskilled observations failed of verification, yet his
adventurous voyage was not barren of geographical results. He was the
first civilized man to land on the shores of Ellesmere Land, along the
coasts of which, between the seventy-seventh and seventy-eighth
parallels, he made important discoveries; while farther to the
northward, Hayes Sound, Bache Island, and other unknown lands and waters
were added to our maps through his strenuous exertions.
Breaking out his schooner on July 10, 1861, an unprecedentedly early
date for an Arctic ship, he quickly decided that he could hope for no
further northing in a sailing vessel. However, he crossed the strait to
the unvisited shores of Ellesmere Land, where he made such an
examination of the coast as was practicable, and then turned his face
homeward.
Hayes was fully alive to the absolute necessity of steam-power for
complete Arctic success, but strictly limited means obliged him to go in
a sailing vessel or not at all. He plainly foresaw the magnificent
success awaiting the first expedition that should carry steam-power into
Smith Sound, and full of dreams of future Arctic work he impatiently
returned to the United States. It was not to be. Civil war raged, and
the country called its loyal sons to arms. Hayes was not the man to
falter at such a juncture. He at once tendered his schooner to the
government for such use as was possible, and volunteered for the war,
where his activity as the head of a great war hospital taxed to the
utmost the mental and physical powers which had so long been occupied in
arduous efforts to solve the riddle of the ice-free sea.
Hayes visited Greenland a third time, in 1869, with the Arctic artist,
William Bradford, in the steam-sealer Panther. Arctic scenery was their
quest, and so they visited the fiord of Sermitsialik, where the inland
ice, which covers the greater part of Greenland, pushes down into the
sea as an enormous glacier, with a front two and a half miles wide.
Here Hayes witnessed the birth of an iceberg, of which he says: "It
would be impossible for mere words alone to convey an adequate idea of
the action of this new-born child of the Arctic frosts. Think of a solid
block of ice, a third of a mile deep, and more than half a mile in
lateral diameter, hurled like a mere toy away into the water, and set to
rolling to and fro by the impetus of the act. Picture this and you will
have an image of power not to be seen by the action of any other forces
upon the earth. The disturbance of the water was inconceivably fine.
Waves of enormous magnitude were rolled up with great violence against
the glacier, covering it with spray; and billows came tearing down the
fiord, their progress marked by the crackling and crumbling ice which
was everywhere in a state of the wildest agitation for the space of
several miles."
The famous mine of cryolite, the only valuable mineral deposit in
Greenland; the Hope Sanderson of John Davis's great voyage of 1587, with
its lofty crest and innumerable flocks of wildfowl; Tessuissak, the most
northerly settlement of Greenland; Duck Islands, the haunts of the
eider, and the chosen rendezvous of ice-stayed whalers; Devil's Thumb,
the great, wonderful pillar, to the base of which Hayes struggled up
thirteen hundred feet above the ice-covered sea, and Sabine Island, all
saw the Panther, in its pleasure-seeking journey. If no geographical
results sprang from this voyage, it had a literary outcome in Hayes's
book, "The Land of Desolation," and in a series of detached sketches,
which in beauty and interest are unsurpassed as regards life in Danish
Greenland.
Hayes died in New York City, December 17, 1881. To the last he
maintained a lively interest in Arctic exploration, and ever and again
he favored polar research, always with an alternative scheme of his old
harbor, Foulke fiord, as the base of operations. He resented the
appellation "Great Frozen Sea" as properly characterizing the Arctic
Ocean to the north of Greenland, and to the last held fast to the ideal
of his youth, the belief of his manhood, "The Open Polar Sea."
XI.
CHARLES FRANCIS HALL,
AND THE NORTH POLE.
Among the many exploring expeditions that have crossed the Arctic Circle
with the sole view of reaching the North Pole, one only has sailed
entirely under the auspices of the United States. This expedition was
commanded neither by an officer of one of the twin military services nor
by a sailor of the merchant marine, but its control was intrusted to a
born Arctic explorer, Charles Francis Hall. Born in 1821, in Rochester,
N. H., Hall early quitted his native hills for the freer fields of the
West, as the Ohio Valley was then called, and later settled in
Cincinnati. There was ever a spirit of change in him, and as years
rolled on he passed from blacksmith to journalist, from stationer to
engraver. Through all these changes of trades he held fast to one fancy,
which in time became the dominating element of his eventful career: in
early youth, fascinated with books of travel relating to exploration in
the icy zones, he eagerly improved every opportunity to increase his
Arctic library, which steadily grew despite his very limited resources.
His interest in the fate of Franklin was so intense that he followed
with impatience the slow and uncertain efforts for the relief of the
lost explorer. Not content with mere sympathy he also planned an
American search, to be conducted in Her Majesty's ship Resolute.
Learning in 1859 that this Arctic ship was laid up and dismantled he
originated a petition asking that it be loaned for such purpose. The
return of McClintock with definite news of the death of Franklin, and
the retreat and loss of his expeditionary force, put an end to the
petition. Hall, however, despite the admirable and convincing report of
McClintock, persisted in the belief that some members of Franklin's crew
were yet alive, and he determined to solve the problem by visiting King
William Land, the scene of the final disaster. He issued circulars
asking public aid, diligently sought out whalers and explorers who could
give him their personal experiences, and finally determined that he must
go and live with the Esquimaux, and, conforming to their modes of travel
and existence, work out his Arctic problem on new lines.
[Illustration: Charles Francis Hall.]
The inauguration of the plan presented difficulties, for Hall was
without means; but his persistent action created confidence, and the
modest outfit for the voyage was procured through friendly
contributions, while passage on a whaler for himself and baggage was
tendered.
On July 30, 1860, with a whaleboat and scanty supplies, Hall landed
alone on the west coast of Davis Strait, in Frobisher Bay. His base of
operations was Rescue Harbor, 63° N., 65° W., whence he made a series of
sledge journeys during the two years passed in this region. He
re-examined the coasts visited by Frobisher in his eventful voyages of
1575 to 1579, and found the famous gold mine on Meta Incognita, whence
1,300 tons of ore were carried to England, where, as the chronicles
relate, "in the melting and refining 16 tonnes whereof, proceeded 210
ounces of fine silver mixed with gold."
An extensive collection of relics of Frobisher's expedition was made,
which later was given to the Royal Geographical Society. The expedition
of Hall was mainly fruitful in training him for other Arctic work, for
though his knowledge was self-acquired and instruments imperfect, yet
his indefatigable industry and practice in scientific observations made
him a reliable observer by the time of his return. It may be added that
his careful and detailed description of the habits and life of the
Esquimaux of the west coast of Davis Strait are of decided value from
his rigid truthfulness, which caused him to record what he saw without
exaggeration.
Hall's success in obtaining so many relics of Frobisher's voyage of
three centuries previous, and the fact that the Esquimaux yet had
traditionary knowledge of that voyage, encouraged Hall and his friends
to a confident belief that a voyage to the shores of King William Land
would result in the discovery of records, relics, possibly survivors,
and in any event rescue the story of the retreat of Crozier from
oblivion by hearing it from Esquimau eye-witnesses.
Future search operations were to be promoted through his Esquimau
followers, commonly known as Joe and Hannah, who returned with him to
the United States, and further, Hall relied upon his knowledge of the
Esquimau language, in which he had acquired considerable facility during
his long sojourn with them.
Hall's return was in 1862, and in 1864 he was ready for his second
voyage. On August 20th he was landed, with his two natives, a whaleboat,
tent, and a moderate amount of provisions, on Depot Island, in the
extreme northern part of Hudson Bay, in 63° 47´ N., 90° W., where Hall
began his life and quest that were to last five weary years.
Preliminary autumnal journeys extended his knowledge, but they were
marked by no definite progress, and the summer of 1864 was spent by the
natives in securing game for the coming winter, thus postponing Hall's
chances of a westward sledge-trip to King William Land yet another year.
Despairing of assistance from natives near the whaling rendezvous, Hall
decided to make his winter-quarters in Repulse Bay, at Fort Hope, 60°
32´ N., 87° W., occupied, 1846-47, by the famous explorer, Dr. Rae. Here
he hoped to secure the friendship of the neighboring Esquimaux and lay
up stores of game for the final expedition, and there he wintered in
1865-66, during which he secured about one hundred and fifty reindeer,
some salmon, and ptarmigan. With returning spring the Esquimaux promised
to make the journey, and with quite a party and several dog-sledges
Hall's heart was full of joy and expectation as they moved northward
across Rae Peninsula, on March 30, 1866. His discouragements commenced
with the long halts and frequent detours for hunts, and his
disappointment was complete when the natives decided to turn back from
Cape Weynton, 68° N., 89° W., after having, in twenty-eight days, only
travelled as far with dogs as Rae had gone on foot in five days. Hall
simply records: "My King William party is ended for the present;
disappointed but not discouraged."
The journey and time were not fruitless, for near Cape Weynton he fell
in with four strange Esquimaux, who gave him most valuable information
as to the subject nearest his heart. They related that some of their
people had visited the search ships and had seen Franklin. What was more
to the point, they produced a considerable number of articles that had
once belonged to members of Franklin's party. The most important were
silver articles, such as spoons, forks, etc., which bore the crest of
Franklin and other officers of the lost expedition. These veritable
evidences of the passage of Crozier and others of Franklin's expedition
through this region were fortunately secured by Hall, and were later
supplemented by many others.
Unable to obtain Esquimau assistance the following year, Hall made
journeys here and there wherever it was possible; one, in February,
1867, to Igloolik, the winter-quarters of Parry in 1822, on Boothia
Felix Land, and a second, in 1868, to the Strait of Fury and Hekla,
discovered by Parry in 1825; furthermore, he surveyed the northwest
coast of Melville Peninsula, and filled in the broken line of the
Admiralty chart for the northwest of that peninsula.
Visiting whalers urged on Hall the impossibility of succeeding in
reaching King William Land by aid of natives, and more than one captain
offered to carry him and his party back to the United States. Never
despairing of final success, Hall determined to pass another winter at
Fort Hope, Repulse Bay. Here, learning by experience, and acquiring food
supplies during the winter, he succeeded, in March, 1869, in again
starting westward with ten Esquimaux--men, women, and children--with
well-loaded dog-sledges. Progress was slow and delays frequent, but
still the journey was continued.
[Illustration: Igloos, or Esquimau Huts.]
Their course from Repulse Bay lay overland, by nearly connecting lakes
and rivers, across Rae Peninsula to Committee Bay, thence by another
similar overland route over the south end of Boothia Felix Land, to
James Ross Strait, where King William Land lies some sixty miles to the
west.
Hall, singularly enough, was never able to appreciate the attitude of
the natives in making such a long, dangerous journey merely to please
him, for he quaintly complains that the Esquimaux had no appreciation of
his mission and continually lost valuable time by stopping to smoke and
talk. They now objected to go west of Pelly Bay, but by persuasion
proceeded to Simpson Island, 68° 30´ N., 91° 30´ W., where a successful
hunt for musk-oxen so restored their spirits that they went on.
At Point Ackland, on the eastern shore of James Ross Strait, Hall
fortunately fell in with natives, with whom he remained nine days, and
from whom he obtained important information. In-nook-poo-zhee-jook
proved to be the chief man of the party, and from him and others were
purchased relics, such as silver spoons, plain and with the crest of
Franklin. Hall was told that these articles came from a large island
where a great many white men died, and that five white men were buried
on an island known to the chief. This Esquimau finally agreed to
accompany Hall and guided him direct across James Ross Strait to a group
of small islets to the east of King William Land, where, on Todd Island,
part of a human thigh-bone was found; snow covering the ground to such a
depth as to make thorough search impossible without long delay.
On May 12, 1869, Hall had the supreme pleasure of putting foot on King
William Land, the object and end of his five years' life among the
Esquimaux. The only tangible result of the search thereon was the
discovery of a human skeleton, and he reluctantly set out on his return.
Esquimaux were fallen in with in Pelly Bay, 68° 30´ N., 90° 30´ W., and
an old man, Tungnuk, on inquiry regarding Franklin relics in their
possession, told Hall that the natives had found a ship beset near
Ki-ki-tuk, King William Land, and that in getting wood out of it they
made a hole in the ship, which soon after sank. Ko-big, another native,
said that all the white men perished, except two at Ki-ki-tuk, whose
fate was unknown.
Hall felt satisfied, from the stories of the Esquimaux and other
evidences, that he was able to determine the fate of seventy-nine out of
the one hundred and five men of Crozier's party, which retreated in 1848
from the abandoned ships. The Esquimaux told him that Crozier,
Franklin's second in command, had passed near their huts; that he had a
gun in his hand and a telescope around his neck, and that his men were
dragging two boats. Crozier told the natives that they were going to
Repulse Bay. The Esquimaux admitted that they had deserted Crozier owing
to the fact that his party was in a starving condition and their food
was scarce.
As far as Hall could make out, Crozier, late in July, 1848, passed down
the west coast of King William Land with forty men dragging two sledges,
and near Cape Herschel fell in with four Esquimaux families, who, after
communicating with Crozier, fled from the starving party during the
night. From native accounts Hall was also able to enumerate in detail
the points at which the retreating party had died and been buried.
[Illustration: In Winter-Quarters.]
Among other relics collected by Hall were portions of one of the boats,
an oak sledge-runner, a chronometer box with the Queen's broad arrow
engraved thereon, Franklin's mahogany writing-desk, and many pieces of
silver, forks, spoons, knives, and parts of watches. It was claimed by
the natives that one of Franklin's ships made the northwest passage with
five men on board, and in the spring of 1849 was found by them near
O'Reilly Island (68° 30´ N., 99° W.).
Hall had now passed five years among the Esquimaux, in which time he had
made sledge journeys aggregating more than three thousand miles;
acquired a thorough knowledge of the language and methods of life of
the natives, and proved the possibility of a white man living the same
life and making the same sledge journeys as the natives; but at the same
time he became conscious that no very extended sledge-work could be done
by Esquimau aid alone. His five years of arduous Arctic life ended in
1869 by his returning home on an American whaler, bringing with him his
faithful Esquimaux, Joe and Hannah.
Hall's return to the United States was simply, however, to pursue
another and greater voyage, in which he believed he would be able to
reach the North Pole.
After strenuous efforts he succeeded in interesting the President, the
Cabinet, and a large number of Congressmen in his project, and on July
12, 1870, Congress appropriated $50,000 for the purpose of the
expedition; authorized the employment of any suitable vessel in the
navy, and provided that the National Academy of Sciences should
prescribe the scope of the scientific observations. An old tug of nearly
four hundred tons burden, rechristened under the name of Polaris, was
selected, overhauled, and strengthened.
Hall sailed from New York June 29th, the party consisting of Captain
Buddington, sailing-master; Dr. Emil Bessel, chief of the scientific
staff; R. W. D. Bryan, astronomer; Sergeant Frederick Meyer, Signal
Corps, meteorologist; seven petty officers, and a crew of fourteen,
together with his faithful servants, Joe and Hannah.
The Polaris was provisioned and equipped for an absence of two and a
half years, and her voyage was destined to be over the route made famous
by the expeditions of Kane and Hayes, through Davis Strait and northward
along the west coast of Greenland, although Hall was at first uncertain
whether he would not enter Jones's Sound, instead of Smith's Strait. The
usual visits to the Greenland ports were made, with resulting stores of
furs, dogs, sledges, and other paraphernalia for exploration in the far
North. To this point the expedition was convoyed by the man-of-war
Congress, which bade the Polaris Godspeed as she left Godhaven on her
lonely journey.
Hans Hendrick, the Esquimau dog traveller, whose services with Kane and
Hayes commended him to Hall, accompanied the expedition with his wife
and children. It was a strange meeting between Morton, the second mate,
and Hans, the Esquimau, who, twenty years before, as subordinates of
Kane, had made together the memorable sledge journey from Rensselaer
Harbor, along the Humboldt Glacier, to Cape Constitution.
[Illustration: An Arctic Fiord.]
The Polaris was favored by an unusually open sea; Melville Bay was
crossed in forty-eight hours and the "North Water" beyond was so free of
ice that the Polaris kept her way unchecked until she reached Hakluyt
Island; even here the ice-pack was so open that the Polaris easily
forced her way. Littleton Island was passed on the evening of August 27,
1870, and later, crossing the parallel of Rensselaer Harbor, the Polaris
attained a higher latitude than any former vessel on this route. Kane
Sea and Kennedy Channel proved equally free of ice, so that the Polaris,
steaming uninterruptedly northward, entered the Arctic Ocean, hitherto
inaccessible, where she was finally stopped by an impenetrable pack, in
82° 26´ N. This point was more than two hundred miles directly north of
the farthest reached by Kane's vessel, the Advance. From this
vantage-ground it was seen that the eastern coast-line of Grinnell Land
extended somewhat farther to the north before turning to the west, and
that, on the other hand, the coast of Northern Greenland trended very
nearly eastward. Strenuous, though unavailing, efforts were made to push
the Polaris further northward; failing this, attempts were then made to
find a safe harbor to the eastward, but none was accessible. In the
meantime the main ice-pack of the Arctic Ocean, setting southward to its
normal position, carried the Polaris steadily to the south, through
Robinson Channel, a distance of nearly fifty miles, and nearly caused
her destruction by forcing her on the Greenland coast. Fortunately the
pack opened somewhat, so that the vessel was enabled to change her
position and secure safe anchorage. This place, later named Thank God
Harbor, in 81° 37´ N., 61° 44´ W., was sheltered by a bold cape to the
north, while the Polaris was protected from the polar pack by an immense
ice-floe, called Providence Berg. This enormous floe-berg, grounded in a
hundred fathoms of water, was by direct measurement four hundred and
fifty feet long, three hundred feet broad, and towered sixty feet above
the level of the sea.
Preparations were at once made to put the crew in winter-quarters, and
on shore an observatory was built for scientific purposes. To the
surprise and delight of the party, seals proved to be quite abundant,
and a small herd of musk-oxen was found, the first of these animals ever
seen on the west coast of Greenland.
Leaving his chief of the scientific staff and his sailing-master to
their respective duties, Hall decided on a preliminary sledge journey in
order to determine the best route for his contemplated journey of the
next spring toward the pole. A heavy fall of snow insured good sledging
and enabled him to leave Thank God Harbor on October 10th, he being
accompanied by the first mate, Chester, the Esquimaux, Joe and Hans
Hendrick, with two dog-sledges and fourteen dogs. In a journey of six
days he attained Cape Brevoort, in 82° N., on the north side of Newman
Bay, a considerable distance to the southward, however, of the point
reached by the Polaris in the Arctic Ocean. In a despatch written at
this point, Hall says, "From Cape Brevoort we can see land extending on
the west side of the strait to the north, a distance of about seventy
miles, thus making land, as far as we can discover, about 83° 5´ N." To
illustrate the accuracy of Hall's judgment and his freedom from making
extravagant claims, it may be stated that the detailed surveys of the
British Arctic expedition of 1876 show the most northerly point on the
east coast of Grinnell Land, Cape Joseph Henry, which possibly could be
seen by Hall, was in 82° 55´, or within ten miles of the position
assigned it from a distance of seventy miles.
[Illustration: A Woman of the Arctic Highlanders. Sketched from life.]