Page iii Pilgrims on the Ice Robert Falcon Scott's First Antarctic Expedition T. H. Baughman Page iv © 1999 by the University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved. Manufactured in the United States of America Library of Congress CataloginginPublication Data. Baughman, T. H., 1947– Pilgrims on the ice: Robert Falcon Scott's first Antarctic expedition / T. H. Baughman. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. (p. ). ISBN 0803212895 (cl.: alk. paper) 1. Discovery (Ship) 2. National Antarctic Expedition, 1901–1904. 3. Scott, Robert Falcon, 1868– 1912. 4. Antarctica—Discovery and exploration. I. Title. G850 1901.D63 1999 919.8'9—dc21 9920685 CIP Page v TO Allison Megan Stephanie Tessa Ryan Gwyneth Page vii Contents List of Illustrations ix Preface xi 1. To the Land of Unsurpassed Desolation 1 2. The Determined Old Man 10 3. Old Men Bicker 35 4. From the East India Docks 49 5. From England to Cape Town 61 6. From Cape Town to New Zealand 77 7. May You Always Sail in Open Water 92 8. The Winter 127 9. Summer 1902–1903 160 10. The Attempt on the Pole 177 11. The Relief Expedition 195 12. Red Sunset of Noon Is Vanishing Fast 216 13. The Grand Old Man Falters 236 14. From Ice to Champagne 252 Conclusion 261 Notes 265 Selected Bibliography 323 Index 325 Page ix Illustrations Drawings 1. Sir Clements Markham 4 2. Robert Falcon Scott 25 3. Ernest Shackleton 32 4. Chinstrap penguin 80 5. Adélie penguin 98 6. Emperor penguins 168 Maps 1. Antarctica xvi 2. Ross Island area xvii Page xi Preface After decades of neglect interrupted only briefly by scientific curiosity or consideration of its commercial potential, international interest in the Antarctic burst onto the scene in the early twentieth century with four important endeavors designed to unlock the mysteries of the south polar regions. From Great Britain, Germany, and Sweden, national efforts were sent forth in 1901 and 1902. Of the four expeditions, the one with the greatest impact on the course of Antarctic exploration was the Discovery expedition (1901–4), which strongly influenced the course of British Antarctic exploration for twenty years and introduced the major British figures to the south polar regions. Heroic Era (1901–22) expeditions are usually referred to by their principal ships. Two of the three greatest Antarctic explorers of this period sailed on the Discovery, Robert Falcon Scott (1868–1912) and Ernest Shackleton (1874–1922). The other member of the triumvirate, the Norwegian Roald Amundsen (1872–1928), had had his initiation to the south polar regions during the Belgica expedition of 1897–99. Scott and Shackleton later became rivals in their polar work, but in this first effort, Shackleton served as Scott's third officer. The Discovery expedition introduced a number of other important figures to polar work, among them Edward A. Wilson (1872–1912), who later died with Scott on the South Pole attempt of 1911–12; seamen such as William Lashly (1868–1940) and Thomas Crean (1877–1938), and petty officer Edgar Evans (1876–1912), who were also on the illfated 1911 venture; and Frank Wild (1874–1939), who rose from ablebodied seaman on the Discovery to commander of the ship on Shackleton's last expedition. This account seeks to credit more than just the work of Scott—this expedition was not a oneman show. This story makes a determined effort to place the Page xii Discovery expedition in the context both of Antarctic exploration and the larger setting in which the endeavor took place. One problem in studying the Discovery expedition might easily be overlooked. Most of those familiar with the careers of Robert Falcon Scott, Edward A. Wilson, Ernest Shackleton, and the others in this account know them based on later events in their lives. Some aspects of their behavior during the Discovery expedition, which I describe here, will seem strange or out of character; but remember, in 1901 these men were young. Edward Wilson, who on Scott's second expedition was treated as the old man — the revered one — by the young men, in 1901 was "Billy Wilson." Similarly, Captain Scott of the Antarctic, Britain's penultimate hero, was a young and often unsure naval officer plucked from relative obscurity to a high profile position leading a major national Antarctic expedition. In the Discovery days these people were less certain, less confident. Looking into the career of Great Britain's eminent polar hero, Robert Falcon Scott, can be dangerous, as I learned while lecturing in Antarctica on the expedition cruise ship M/S Explorer, an opportunity made possible by Victoria Underwood. I ventured to note in one of my lectures that Scott lost his temper at one point during the Discovery expedition. The next morning I was descended upon by an entire table of British subjects who spent an hour trying to persuade me that "surely you must be mistaken." Heroes do not cease to be heroes by having their human frailties revealed. I am reminded of what nineteenthcentury historian Alexander William Kinglake (1809–91) wrote in the introduction to his monumental account of the Crimean War: And now I have that to state which will not surprise my own countrymen, but which still, in the eyes of the foreigner, will seem to be passing strange. For some years, our statesmen, our admirals, and our generals, have known that the whole correspondence of the English Headquarters was in my hands; and very many of them have from time to time conversed and corresponded with me on the business of the war. Yet I declare I do not remember that any one of these public men has ever said to me that there was anything which, for the honour of our arms, or for the credit of the nation, it would be well to keep concealed. Every man has taken it for granted that what is best for the repute of England is, the truth. 1 Understanding this expedition gives one an appreciation for the talent and hard work of the Royal Navy enlisted men who served aboard the Discovery. Turning their hand to every task, from washing and repairing Page xiii clothes to sledging in temperatures thirty degrees below zero, the enlisted men suffered every hardship, shared every drudgery, for three years. To have written an account of this expedition without recognizing their efforts would be to miss part of the story of the adventure. The sense of duty, honed by living in the nineteenth century, one in which duty was the watchword of the age, strikes one in the late twentieth century as being so foreign as to be from another world. This story attempts to provide the reader with an understanding of both the officers and men of the expedition and an appreciation of the character of these pilgrims on the ice. This volume also attempts to place the Discovery into the context of contemporary events and expeditions. Because of the time associated with teaching at a small liberal arts college at which scholarship is not a high priority, I have spent six years working on this volume. After fitful starts and stops, I suspect the project really began to take off in my own mind when I began lecturing aboard the M/S Explorer in Antarctica. My colleagues on the ship and the passengers provided an environment in which my scholarly work was encouraged. This monograph began as the second part of a trilogy that I hoped to write on Antarctica in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Before the Heroes Came (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1993) surveyed the period before the Heroic Era began and "Lure of the South: Antarctica, 1901–9" was to be the sequel. When I began work on the Discovery expedition I became so convinced that this single voyage was so important for understanding the whole of the Heroic Era that I departed from my original plan to write about Scott's first expedition. Later, I hope to return to the original proposal and provide readers with an account of the first half of the Heroic Era (1901–9). Whether time and financial limitations will allow me to complete the third volume, tentatively entitled "The End of Heroes: Antarctica 1909–22," I have not yet determined. Along the way a scholar accumulates many debts, and a scant mention here cannot convey the degree of appreciation one feels for those who give their time and expertise to make a book such as this possible. I want to thank Robert K. Headland, archivist at Scott Polar Research Institute (SPRI), for all his help. The Royal Geographical Society (RGS) lost a brilliant archivist when Paula Lucas left that organization. Regrettably, the RGS appears unable to fund a fulltime archivist to safeguard its wonderful and important collection. Philippa Smith, at Scott Polar, was consistently helpful and kind, a model for all who work in archives. I also want Page xiv to mention the assistance I received at Scott Polar from William Mills and Shirley Sawtell in the library and A. W. Billinghurst and Mandy Dunn in the archives. Dr. Beau Riffenburgh and Dr. Liz Cruwys have been wonderfully helpful, friendly, and considerate. When I have dinner with them I leave the meeting inspired by their example of diligent, consistent publication efforts. Maria Pia Casarini and Peter Wadhams not only provided me with access to the Heald diary but also extended me every possible kindness, consideration, and help throughout this research process. I want to thank the Heald family for allowing me to use William L. Heald's diary, a wonderfully insightful volume. In an earlier book I noted that the RGS library felt like home, and it still does, now under the able stewardship of Rachel Rowe. Among my academic colleagues, I wish to thank Scott Baird, William P. Hyland, George Nicholas, and Rupert Pate for their encouragement. My student worker of four years, Stacey Petesch, did a great deal of the detailed work of organizing research notes. No academic accomplishment I achieve could have occurred without the support and kindness of Judith and Richard L. Greaves. Among polar enthusiasts, I wish to acknowledge the help and encouragement of Matt Drennan and Megan McOsker, Kim Robertson, Larry Hobbs, Kim Crosbie, Victoria Underwood, Peter Graham, and Michael and Maxine Rosove. I want to thank A. G. E. Jones for both the example of his scholarship and his kindness to me in providing me with insight based on his considerable research in polar history. Anyone who has followed Antarctic affairs for the past thirty years has at one time or another met John Splettstoesser, a doyen of Antarcticans and a person deserving the title, "Mr. Antarctica." John has been both extremely kind and wonderfully helpful in every aspect of my Antarctic career. No mention of great late twentiethcentury Antarcticans would be complete without the name of Colin Bull, a wonderful fellow, the consummate Ph.D. adviser, and the premier glaciologist of his day — a mantle now worn by his former graduate students. And two lifelong friends, Russell P. Buchan and Barbara Knox, have been consistently supportive of this project. Katherine Immel, John Splettstoesser, and Colin Bull read this work in manuscript, which was especially helpful, as the latter two know far more Antarctic history than I do. Kim Crosbie provided many of the illustrations in this volume.
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