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Robert Falcon Scott
PART I
1868-1912
Robert Falcon Scott was born at Outlands on June 6, 1868, to John
and Hannah Scott. Robert's father, John Edward Scott, was the youngest
of eight children. Of John's four older brothers, one died young,
two went into the Indian army and one became a naval surgeon. However,
poor health kept John from the family service tradition. Instead,
John inherited a small brewery in Plymouth which his father and
uncle had bought for £4782 out of prize money received during
the Napoleonic wars. The family home was also inherited from his
father, Robert. This was a house called Outlands near Stoke Damerel,
just outside Devonport. The property, a small country estate, was
complete with a nice home, a stream at the bottom of the garden,
three large greenhouses, dogs, a peacock on the lawn and a small
staff of maids and gardeners. In 1861 John Scott married Hannah
Cuming, daughter of William Bennett Cuming of Plymouth, a Lloyd's
surveyor, Commissioner of Pilotage, Commissioner for the Catwater
Improvement, and a member of the Chamber of Commerce. Suffice it
to say, this family was a highly respected, very conservative and
rather well-to-do Plymouth family. The sons of such Devon families
took to the sea as birds to the air and one of Hannah's brothers,
Harry Cuming, became a Vice-Admiral. Thus, there was a significant
naval tradition on both sides of Robert Falcon Scott's parentage.
"Con", as his parents called him, was born into a large
family; he had two older sisters, Ettie and Rose, a younger brother,
Archie, and a younger sister, Katherine.
Throughout Con's childhood, daydreaming was a
habit he worked hard to overcome as everyone, including himself,
considered it a flaw. Other weaknesses, equally shameful in this
era, were his uneasiness with the sight of blood and of suffering
in animals. Although he tried hard to conceal it, he never really
overcame these perceived problems. As a boy, he was "shy and
diffident, small and weakly for his age, lethargic, backward, and
above all, dreamy" as one of his biographers wrote. On the
other hand, he had a happy childhood as the first five children
were born within a nine year period providing plenty of playmates.
Although subject to occasional fits of temper, Con's father, John,
was considered an easygoing father with plenty of patience. Con's
mother, Hannah, was loved and worshipped by all the Scott children;
to Con she was always "the dear Mother". Not much is known
about Hannah but one thing is certain: she had strong religious
principles and never questioned the teachings of the Church of England.
"My own dearest Mother," wrote Con on his departure from
New Zealand on his last journey in 1910, "I quite understand
and anticipated your anxiety concerning our spiritual welfare. I
read the Church service every Sunday on our voyage to Melbourne
and I propose to do the same with equal regularity throughout the
voyage. You need not have any anxiety on this point".
Robert F. Scott joined his first seagoing ship
in August, 1883, at the age of thirteen. The ship, HMS Boadicea,
was the flagship of the Cape Squadron, and in her he served as midshipman
for two years. This was the first time that young Con had earned
money, about £30 a year. Midshipmen were still students with
naval instructors as their teachers. Training was intense for these
young men as Admiral Sir William Jameson wrote that midshipmen were
"up aloft in all sorts of weather and away for long hours in
boats under oars and sail. In spite of rigid barriers, young officers
learnt the lower deck point of view in a way which is often difficult
to achieve in these more democratic days". The young men worked
in the rigging 120 feet above deck. They slept in hammocks, bathrooms
were unknown, instructors were strong and intense in their verbal
attacks, and punishment included beatings and extra drill. As a
result, survival created a man, from a boy, with complete suppression
of a young boy's natural feelings of fright, homesickness and lack
of self-confidence. He had to learn to bear pain without flinching,
to obey orders directly, and disregard any immature tendencies.
This treatment could be quite traumatic for a young boy coming from
a comfortable home. Con Scott was considered an excellent example
of a student as he learned the lessons thoroughly while climbing
up the lower branches of the navy. After a brief tour with the Liberty
, he served a year on HMS Monarch , whose captain rated Con a "promising
young officer". At the end of 1886 he joined HMS Rover and
was rated by her captain as an "intelligent and capable young
officer of temperate habits". Con was 18 when the Royal Navy's
Training Squadron, to which the Rover belonged, was cruising in
the Caribbean. The midshipmen of the four participating ships raced
their cutters across the bay at St. Kitts in the West Indies. The
race was narrowly won by Con and a few days later young Con was
invited aboard the Active to dine with the Commodore, Albert Markham.
Present at the dinner was Albert's cousin and guest, a middle-aged
geographer named Clements Markham. Clements was thoroughly impressed
by Con's intelligence, enthusiasm and charm and later wrote "My
final conclusion was that Scott was the destined man to command
the Antarctic expedition". Destiny had arrived for young Scott.
After nine months on the Rover , Scott went on
to spend the winter of 1887-8 at the Royal Naval College at Greenwich
and in March 1888 he was awarded first-class certificates in pilotage,
torpedoes and gunnery, coming in with the highest marks in his class
in his year of seamanship. He was commissioned as a sub-lieutenant
and at the end of 1888, he was instructed to join the cruiser Amphion
stationed near Vancouver, Canada. He had to make his own way across
North America with the last stage of his trip being a long journey
in a tramp steamer from San Francisco to Esquimault, BC.
After Scott's tour of service in the Pacific,
he joined HMS Caroline briefly in the Mediterranean. The summer
of 1891 was spent on leave with his family at Outlands. This was
undoubtedly the most carefree time of Con's life as his lieutenant's
salary of £182 10s a year provided him with independence allowing
him to pay his own expenses. He played golf with his brothers and
played tennis with his sisters. It was a happy time for the twenty-two
year-old.
In September 1891 Con reported to the torpedo
training ship HMS Vernon. He graduated with first-class certificates
in all subjects and was appointed to HMS Vulcan in the Mediterranean.
By the end of 1894, at the age of twenty-five, Con received tragic
news from his mother: the family was virtually bankrupt. John Scott
had sold the brewery on Hoegate Street a few years before and was
now enjoying his life of retirement while working in his greenhouses.
Hannah had assumed that interest income from the sale of the brewery
would allow them a comfortable life and one can imagine her shock
when John revealed the necessity to give up Outlands as he had drawn
on the capital and, although never confirmed, likely made a poor
investment which resulted in the loss of their remaining capital.
In questionable health and 63 years old, John Scott had to look
for a job.
John actually did find a job, as a manager of
a small brewery. Outlands was let go and the family, except for
Con's sister Rose, moved to Holcombe House, near Shepton Mallet,
which they rented for £30 a year. Rose had landed a job at
Nottingham Hospital and it wasn't long before the three remaining
sisters began searching for their own careers. The oldest sister,
32-year-old Ettie, went on to become an actress. Attractive and
single, she joined a touring company whose leading lady was Irene
Vanbrugh. The two younger sisters, Grace (Monsie) and Kate (or Kitty)
chose the more conventional trade of dressmaking.
The financial disaster of 1894 was bad enough,
but three years later, in October 1897, John Scott died of heart
disease at the age of 66, leaving his family without any support
or life insurance. Hannah had to leave Holcombe House and the family
became, briefly, penniless and homeless. Monsie and Kate had moved
to a room over a shop in Chelsea so it was not long before Hannah
moved in with them. The financial burden of Hannah fell upon her
two sons who were struggling themselves on very meager Service pay.
At the time, Archie was in West Africa. After the financial collapse
of his family, he had himself moved from the Royal Artillery to
the post of ADC and private secretary to the Governor of Lagos,
Sir Gilbert Carter. The pay was better and living expenses were
less. A year later he transferred to the Hausa Force which was engaged
in bringing law and order to warring tribes of the interior of the
Oil Rivers Protectorate. After his father's death, Archie contributed
£200 a year to his mother's welfare. This was nearly as much
as Con's entire salary but Con still managed to send £70 a
year to his mother. This period was extremely difficult for Con.
He had very little money left to cover his personal expenses and
enjoying a mild weekend of shore leave was out of the question.
He had to pinch every penny as even an occasional glass of wine,
game of golf, and so forth were normally too expensive. To take
a young woman to dinner would have been impossible. He was cut off
from his friends as he never had the funds to share in the same
enjoyments as his comrades. Poverty, and real poverty it was, could
only have forced Con to withdraw unto himself. Years later he wrote
to his future wife "Do you remember I warned you that secretiveness
was strongly developed in me? Don't forget that at forty the reserve
of a lifetime is not easily broken. It has been built up to protect
the most sensitive spots". The "sensitive spots"
were his lack of self-confidence, his sense of inferiority, of frustration
and isolation, born from his inability to share life's experience
with his peers due to his lack of money. But, self-pity was not
among his faults. There are no complaints in any recorded document
written by Con.
His devotion to family remained constant throughout
his life. Once he learned of the financial crisis in 1894, he applied
for a transfer to HMS Defiance, stationed at Devonport, so that
he could help with the sale of Outlands and assist his mother and
sisters in moving to Somerset. When they were settled, he applied
for another seagoing job and was appointed torpedo lieutenant in
HMS Empress of India, a battleship in the Channel Squadron. This
appointment lasted less than one year but while in the Mediterranean,
he once again encountered Clements Markham and his cousin.
In the summer of 1897, Scott was appointed torpedo
lieutenant to the flagship of the Channel Squadron, HMS Majestic.
From this ship came a number of future expedition members on Scott's
first trip to the Antarctic aboard Discovery: Lieutenant Michael
Barne, Engineer-Lieutenant Reginald Skelton, Warrant Officer J.
H. Dellbridge, and two petty officers, Edgar Evans and David Allan.
It was at this time, while serving aboard the Majestic, that his
father died. His oldest sister, Ettie, had married a promising politician,
William Ellison-Macartney, only a few months before John's death.
Con felt good about this as certainly Ettie would be in a much more
stable and secure environment than if she had remained at Outlands
with a looming financial crisis. Ettie's husband helped Monsie and
Kate study the fashion industry in Paris by advancing them a loan.
In addition, he contributed a small sum towards his mother-in-law's
support. Meanwhile, Rose took a bold step that same year by taking
a nursing job in the Gold Coast, then known as the White Man's Grave.
Hannah Scott
In the autumn of 1898 Archie came home on leave and Con took him
for a cruise off the Irish coast in the Majestic. Con was extremely
proud of his brother and said Archie was "absolutely full of
life and enjoyment and at the same time so keen on his job. He deserves
to be a success. Commissioner, Consul and Governor is the future
for him I feel". A little over a month later Archie went to
Hythe to play golf, contracted typhoid fever and died within a week.
Hannah was devastated and felt fully responsible for his death.
Hannah felt that Archie served in West Africa solely to earn extra
money which he could send home to his financially strapped mother
and sisters. It was there, in West Africa, that Hannah felt Archie's
health deteriorated. Con wrote to her, "Don't blame yourself
for what happened, dear. Whatever we have cause to bless ourselves
for, comes from you. He died like the true-hearted gentleman he
was, but to you we owe the first lessons and example that made us
gentlemen. This thing is most terrible to us all but is no penalty
for any act of yours". Now the whole financial burden of the
family fell on Con, other than what little his brother-in-law could
afford to give. His brother-in-law was not a rich man and soon they
had children. The first of three, Phoebe, was born in 1898.
Rose, still a nurse in the Gold Coast, worked hard to save her own
money and in 1899 she married Captain Eric Campbell of the Royal
Irish Fusiliers, one of her brother Archie's fellow officers in
the Hausa Force.
While serving on the Majestic, the third meeting
between Con and Clements Markham took place. While home on leave
in June, 1899, "chancing one day to be walking down the Buckingham
Palace Road, I espied Sir Clements Markham and accompanied him to
his house. That afternoon I learned for the first time that there
was such a thing as a prospective Antarctic Expedition; two days
later I wrote applying to command it". Scott wrote, in The
Voyage of the Discovery, that "I may as well confess that I
had no predeliction for polar exploration". His sister Ettie
confirmed that "he had no urge towards snow, ice, or that kind
of adventure" but had grown restless with the navy and "wanted
freedom to develop more widely" as he had "developed great
concentration, and all the years of dreaming were working up to
a point". After sending his application, Con returned to duty
aboard HMS Majestic for the best part of a year.
Sir Clements Markham
In 1894 Markham had invited the Royal Society to join with the Royal
Geographic Society, of which he was President, to finance the Antarctic
project of his dreams. In hindsight, Markham felt this was a mistake
as he was essentially snubbed by the Royal Society as their members
felt the RGS was beneath them. Markham was then put off by the First
Lord of the Admiralty and worse, by the Prime Minister, Lord Salisbury,
who "regretted that he was unable, under existing circumstances,
to hold out any hope of HMG embarking upon an expedition of this
magnitude". Markham fought on by lobbying his friends, addressing
meetings and writing papers, all in vain. He became very concerned
as he felt other nations would rush in ahead of them and claim the
riches certainly awaiting the first continental explorers. Markham
was furious. In 1895, a wealthy British publisher, George Newnes,
put up the money for Carsten Borchgrevink's 1898 Southern Cross
expedition. Here was a penniless Norwegian schoolmaster in Australia
securing good British money while Markham, with all his influence,
was left with empty hands. Finally, in 1897, the Council of the
Royal Geographic Society pledged £5000. Markham "kept
on writing letters to rich people" and suddenly Mr. Llewellyn
Longstaff, a paint manufacturer living in Wimbledon, pledged £25,000.
This generous gift caught the attention of the Prince of Wales,
who had "declined to connect himself with the expedition until
public feeling was manifest", and soon others followed. In
July, 1899, the Government announced a grant of £45,000, provided
that private sources matched it with an equal amount. At that time
Markham had raised £42,000 in pledges so, with a little arm-twisting,
he persuaded the RGS to contribute the additional £3,000.
A joint committee of the Royal Society and the Royal Geographic
Society was formed to plan the expedition, acquire a ship, and assemble
the personnel. This is when the fireworks started. From the very
beginning, the two societies disagreed over the aim of the expedition.
The RS saw it as an opportunity for extensive scientific research;
Markham and the RGS declared it an opportunity for research and
advancement in scientific knowledge concerning magnetism, meteorology,
biology and geology. Actually, the real aim to Markham was twofold:
geographical discovery and opportunities for young naval officers
to win distinction in times of peace. The RS felt the expedition
leader should be a scientist while Markham felt he "must be
a naval officer; he must be in the regular line and not in the surveying
branch, and he must be young. These are essentials". Markham
was soon in for a serious struggle as the scientists joined forces
with the "hydrographic clique" to offer their own choice
for leadership. They didn't have a problem with a naval officer
commanding the ship, but they expected him to simply ferry the scientists
to the ice, drop them off for their year of work, and come back
the following year to pick them up and bring them home. Their choice
to fill the position of Director of the Scientific Staff was John
Walter Gregory, an eminent geologist. Although his scientific ability
was unchallenged, Markham felt he was unsuitable as commander of
such an expedition. Actually, he was well qualified as he had not
only been on safari in East Africa's Rift Valley when it was wild,
unmapped and dangerous, he had scaled Alpine peaks and explored
Spitzbergen within the Arctic circle.
The joint committee began searching for an expedition
leader the same month that Markham invited Scott to apply for that
same position. Gregory was appointed Scientific Director in February
1900, four months before Scott was named the expedition's naval
commander. Markham then sent a request to the First Lord of the
Admiralty for the release of two young officers, one to lead and
the other to be second in command:
The work involved in the stress of contest with
the mighty powers of Nature in the Antarctic regions calls for the
very same qualities as are needed in the stress of battle. Our application
is that a young Commander should be allowed to take charge of its
executive work...Youth is essential in polar service. No efficient
leader of discovery in icy seas has ever been over forty, the best
have been nearer thirty.
Markham offered three names: Commander John de
Robeck, aged thirty-eight, Robert F. Scott, aged thirty-two and
Charles Royds, aged twenty-four. Although Robeck's request was denied,
Scott and Royds were approved for release on April 5, 1900. The
joint committee met on April 18, 1900, and Markham informed the
committee that the Admiralty had released Scott and Royds. Sir William
Wharton, of the joint committee, was extremely angry at Markham
for going over the committee's head and assuming authority for naming
leadership. Meanwhile, the remaining committee members were furious
and now Scott's appointment was questionable. At the next meeting,
on May 4, another committee was appointed to settle the issue, six
on Markham's side and six on the side of the "hydrographic
clique" who would "strive to secure a job for the survey
department with obstinate perversity". As luck would have it,
at the next committee meeting on May 24, two of the "hydrographic
clique" representatives stayed away which placed the majority
with Markham. The fight was over as Scott's appointment was confirmed.
The next day the committee unanimously approved Scott as the expedition
leader. In December 1900 Professor Gregory arrived in Great Britain
from Australia to organize his side of the expedition. When he arrived
in London he was shocked to learn of his position on the team since
he expected the Antarctic command had been placed under his direction.
He expected to lead the expedition on the ice while Scott wintered
over in Melbourne. According to Markham, instead of going to work
on his scientific program, Gregory set about conspiring with the
hydrographers to have Scott's leadership role overturned. Try as
he might, Gregory was unsuccessful in his bid to capture the command.
In May, 1901, Gregory was sent a telegram with a choice to either
serve under Scott's command, or resign. Gregory resigned in disgust.
Dr. George Murray, head of the botanical department of the British
Museum, was appointed in his place on the condition that he go only
as far as Melbourne to give scientific advise and training to the
other scientists and then return to his duties at the museum. Gregory
went on to occupy the Chair of Geology at Glasgow University for
twenty-five years. At the age of sixty-eight, while crossing a river
in Peru, he drowned.
The Discovery Expedition, 1901-04
After his meeting with Markham in June 1899, Scott went back to
sea and resumed his duties aboard the Majestic. On June 9, 1900
Scott received his letter of appointment and two days later wrote
a formal letter of acceptance to the committee. A follow-up letter
arrived on the desk of the two Presidents shortly thereafter in
which Scott wrote:
I must have complete command of the ship and landing
parties. There cannot be two heads.
I must be consulted on all matters affecting the equipment of the
landing parties.
The executive officers must not number less than four, exclusive
of myself.
I must be consulted in all future appointments, both civilians and
others, especially the doctor.
It must be understood that the doctors are first medical men, and
secondly members of the scientific staff, not vice versa.
I am ready to insist on these conditions to the point of resignation
if, in my opinion, their refusal imperils the success of the undertaking.
Scott went on leave for a few weeks and then started work by taking
a course in magnetism at Deptford. Living with his two sisters and
mother over the shop in Chelsea, Scott started his day by jogging
across Hyde Park for exercise. He plunged himself into the planning
of the expedition. Extraordinary details had to be worked out and
even Hugh Robert Mill, distinguished librarian of the Royal Geographic
Society (1892-1900), thought that Scott "if anyone, could bring
order out of the chaos which had overtaken the plans and preparations".
In October 1900 Scott and the Markhams went to
Christiania (Oslo) to consult Nansen. His vessel, the Fram, had
just returned intact with her crew after drifting right across the
Arctic from the Siberian sea to emerge, after thirty-five months,
north of Spitzbergen, which proved the Arctic region to be an ocean
rather than a continent. The Fram was designed like a saucer so
that she would be lifted above the ice floes rather than crushed
by them. It was a revolutionary design but to reach the Antarctic
a ship would have to cross terrible seas and force her way through
hundreds of miles of ice pack, so they thought a whaling vessel
would be more suitable. (Ironically, Amundsen later borrowed the
Fram from Nansen and sailed her to Antarctica and right into the
Ross Sea.) Scott and Nansen quickly became fast friends. Of Nansen,
Scott wrote to his mother, "He is a great man, absolutely straightforward
and wholly practical, so our business flies along apace. I wish
to goodness it would go as well in England". Later, Nansen
wrote of Scott, "I see him before me, his tight, wiry figure,
his intelligent, handsome face, that earnest, fixed look, and those
expressive lips so seriously determined and yet ready to smile--the
features of a kindly, generous character, with a fine admixture
of earnestness and humour". Nansen told him to get dogs so
he did as Nansen and bought them in Russia. It was suggested that
he buy Greenland dogs which were bigger and better, but they were
hard to get as the many Arctic expeditions of the previous fifty
years had taken a toll on the supply of these dogs. Twenty dogs
and three bitches were selected in Archangel and sent to the London
zoo where they were kept until they could be shipped to New Zealand.
The Crew
On May 29, 1900 Albert Armitage was appointed
to serve as second-in-command and navigator. Armitage, aged thirty-six,
came from the Merchant Navy where he had been an officer in the
P and O fleet. His prior experience came from his participation,
as navigator, with the Jackson-Harmsworth Arctic expedition in 1894.
The expedition's primary goal was to determine if Franz Josef Land
was part of a continent which might extend all the way to the North
Pole. Armitage, and seven others, landed at Franz Josef Land and
proceeded to spend three years in a hut within the 80°N circle,
shooting polar bears and doing scientific research. Franz Josef
land was simply a series of scattered islands that had been incorrectly
mapped by their discoverer, Julius Payer. One day Armitage was searching
the area with his field glasses when he spotted someone approaching
on skis. The man was covered in oil and grease and black from head
to foot. It was Nansen! Nansen and one companion had left the Fram
and her crew to make a dash for the North Pole. Unfortunately, they
too soon discovered the impossibility of such a trek. They wintered
in a tiny hut, living on bear meat in a latitude of 86°13'N,
the farthest-north record that stood until Peary reached the Pole
in 1909. Nansen and his companion had been dragging sledges and
two kayaks, having eaten all the dogs by then, across seven hundred
miles of ice, hoping to reach Spitzbergen where whaling vessels
occasionally called. Finding Armitage saved their lives as a trip
across the open seas to Spitzbergen in kayaks would have resulted
in certain death. They returned to civilization in July 1896 in
the Windward.
The doctor on the Jackson-Harmsworth expedition
had been Reginald Koettlitz, a six foot tall man with drooping mustaches
of German heritage. At the age of thirty-nine, Koettlitz received
his appointment in 1900. Markham described him as "a very honest
food fellow, but exceedingly short of commonsense". However,
Koettlitz was in agreement with other notable doctors that scurvy,
the plague of all polar expeditions, was caused by a poison resulting
from putrefaction of preserved food. The remedy was absolutely pure
food.
The assistant surgeon was a young man recently
qualified at St. George's Hospital. He had a wonderful talent for
drawing and painting in water colors, was a deeply religious man
and had a passion for birds. His name was Edward Adrian Wilson,
son of a Cheltenham doctor. A courageous young man, Wilson spent
too many chilly nights bird-watching, too many long nights with
his studies to make up for time spent in art galleries, too much
starving himself so he could give money to beggars or to buy books,
and probably too much smoking. He ruined his health and contracted
pulmonary tuberculosis. After spending two years in Norway and a
Swiss sanitarium, he shook the disease but as soon as he began his
duties as junior house surgeon he contracted blood poisoning which
resulted in a painful abscess in his armpit. When Scott met him
in 1900, his arm was still in a sling. Scott appointed him on the
spot but he still had to pass an Admiralty Medical Board. He failed
the first time and the second exam, only weeks before sailing, reported
"Mr. E. A. Wilson unfit on account of disease in the right
lung". Scott told Markham he must have him and Wilson told
Scott "I quite realize it will be kill or cure, and have made
up my mind that it will be cure". Dr. Wilson's contributions
to the expedition were enormous and his incredible gallery of original
artwork left for our enjoyment is highly prized and very valuable.
Discovery, by E. A. Wilson The three naval officers
appointed, at about the same time as Scott, were Charles Royds as
first lieutenant, Michael Barne as second naval lieutenant and Reginald
Skelton as chief engineer. Royd's charge was to deal with the men
and internal economy of the ship. He was serving on HMS Crescent,
which was the flagship on the North America station, at the time
of his appointment. Michael Barne had been educated at Stubbington
School in preparation for the navy and later served with Scott on
HMS Majestic. Reginald Skelton also served with Scott on the Majestic.
A Norfolk man, he had joined the navy as an engineer-student in
1887, served in various ships on various stations until Scott finally
met him when he was appointed senior engineer on the Majestic.
There were still three scientific positions to
be filled and the first of those, as naturalist, was offered to
a Scot, W. S. Bruce. Unfortunately he was busy organizing his own
Scottish expedition (the Scotia in 1902) and he declined. The position
was then offered to Thomas Vere Hodgson, aged thirty-seven, director
of the marine biological laboratories in Plymouth. ("Young
to have a polished bald head, sometimes needing a skull cap, but
otherwise apparently strong and healthy" as Markham wrote).
The geologist, Hartley Ferrar, aged twenty-two,
had just graduated from Cambridge with an honor's degree. Born in
Ireland and raised primarily in South Africa, Markham felt he was
capable but "very young, very unfledged, and rather lazy; however,
he most likely could be "made into a man in this ship"
by "the young lieutenants".
The physicist was Louis Bernacchi, aged twenty-five.
His appointment was so late in coming that he had to join the ship
in New Zealand. He had spent a very adventurous childhood on a mountainous
island that was uninhabited except for his family and their dependents.
His father was a silk merchant from Lombardy and had bought the
island from the Tasmanian Government for £20,000. Louis studied
physics and astronomy at the Melbourne Observatory and was the only
member of the expedition to have prior experience in the Antarctic.
He had just spent two years with Borchgrevink's Southern Cross expedition
and had wintered over in the hut at Cape Adare. Markham declared
him "Always grown up--never a boy".
Ernest Shackleton was an unusual choice. He was
a Merchant Navy officer, like Armitage, but no one had invited him
to join. Shackleton went to sea at the age of sixteen as an apprentice
in a sailing vessel and his captain considered him "the most
pigheaded, obstinate boy I ever came across". He worked his
way up the ladder and was soon the third officer in a Union Castle
liner. He became engaged to become married and told his future father-in-law
"my fortune is all to make but I intend to make it quickly".
He was ambitious but had no special interest in the polar regions
or scientific research, for that matter. He applied to join the
expedition and was promptly turned down. In Shackleton's case, it
was a simple "who-you-know" matter--Llewellyn Longstaff,
who had been the first to pledge financial backing to the expedition,
had a son who was a passenger to Cape Town on the liner in which
Shackleton served. The two men became friends and Shackleton persuaded
young Longstaff to set him up for an interview with Armitage. The
second-in-command was impressed and recommended him to Scott who,
in February 1901, appointed him third lieutenant in charge of holds,
stores, provisions and deep sea water analysis. Armitage wrote "His
brother officers considered him a very good fellow, always quoting
poetry and full of erratic ideas". Shackleton was forced to
leave the expedition in 1903 and was replaced by George F. A. Mulock,
who remained with the expedition until conclusion. Mulock was only
twenty-one but had received excellent instruction as a surveyor
in HMS Triton, and his services provided were invaluable.
This concluded the complement of primary officers
and scientists. The navy also released three warrant officers and
six petty officers, including Edgar Evans and David Allan from the
Majestic.
L to R: Lt. Armitage, Lt. Mulock, Lt. Shackleton,
Dr. Wilson, Lt. Skelton, Capt. Scott,
Lt. Royds, Dr. Koettlitz, Mr. Bernacchi and Mr. Ferrar on board
Discovery
The Discovery was built at Dundee. She was the sixth of her name
and the first to be specifically designed and built for scientific
work. She had to be a wooden ship to withstand the pressure of the
ice since steel would simply buckle. She had to be a sailing ship
but with auxiliary engines. The ship was to be exceptionally strong,
built from a variety of timbers: English oak for the frames, eleven
inches thick; Riga fir for the lining, eleven inches; Honduras mahogany,
pitch pine or oak for the four-inch-thick lining, all sheathed with
two layers of planking--twenty-six inches of solid wood in all.
Her bow was incredibly strong; some of the bolts running through
the wood were eight and a half feet long. The vessel was 172 feet
long and 34 feet wide, of 485 tons register and a displacement of
1620 tons. She had to have room to store fuel, oil, 350 tons of
coal, fresh water, dog food, medical supplies, scientific instruments,
axes and saws, a sectional wooden hut, a piano and a library. Invitations
for bids were offered but only two were received. On December 14,
1899 a contract with the Dundee Ship Building Company was signed.
The keel was laid on March 16, 1900 and the final cost, including
engines, was £49,277. On March 21, 1901 Lady Markham, with
a pair of golden scissors, cut the tape and the Discovery was launched.
Food for the 47 men was stored aboard: 150 tons of roast pheasant,
500 of roast turkey, whole roast partridges, jugged hare, duck and
green peas, rump steak, wild cherry sauce, celery seed, black currant
vinegar, candied orange peel, Stilton and Double Gloucester cheese,
27 gallons of brandy, 27 gallons of whiskey, 60 cases of port, 36
cases of sherry, 28 cases of champagne, lime juice, 1800 pounds
of tobacco, pemmican, raisins, chocolate and onion powder. While
being loaded, many visitors came to see her. Among them were two
former colleagues of Sir James Clark Ross: Sir Erasmus Ommaney (now
aged eighty-seven) who had sailed with Ross to the Arctic in 1835,
and the famous botanist Sir Joseph Hooker, naturalist in James Clark
Ross's Erebus and Terror expedition. It was upon Hooker's advice
that Scott found £1300 to purchase a balloon for the voyage.
With much fanfare and a Godspeed service on board, the Discovery
weighed anchor on July 31, 1901, paused at Spithead to correct her
compasses and proceeded to Cowes to receive the royal blessing.
The new King and Queen, still uncrowned, came aboard. The Queen's
Pekinese fell overboard and one of the sailors had to rescue it.
The next day, August 6, the Discovery passed Needles on her way
to the unknown. As Markham noted, "Truly, they form the vanguard
of England's chivalry. No finer set of men ever left these shores,
nor were men ever led by a finer Captain".
Discovery launched March 21, 1901
The Discovery was so heavy in the seas that she could not make more
than seven knots. This became an immediate concern as New Zealand
was 14,000 miles away. Her first stop was at Madeira Island where
they took on more coal and sent back considerable mail. After leaving
Madeira, the men were shocked to find that the Discovery was leaking
water into the hold and, as a result, had ruined a significant amount
of food. What could be dried was saved and the rest was thrown overboard.
The ship arrived in Cape Town on October 3, 1901 where nearly everyone
proceeded to get drunk. Owing to the slowness of the voyage, Scott
decided to cut the Melbourne leg of the journey and sail directly
to Lyttleton, New Zealand. As a result of this decision, Dr. Murray
was left in Cape Town so that he could return to his post at the
British Museum.
The Discovery arrived at Lyttleton at the end
of November where the leak at last received attention. Meanwhile,
the hospitality extended to the crew was generous, at the very least.
Royds wrote that there was "Not a single sober man on board.
The men are rushed at as soon as they get ashore and all good Service
feeling is lost and I have awful times. Better men never stepped
a plank whilst they are at sea, but in harbor they are nothing but
brute beasts, and I am ashamed of them, and told them so, and penitent
indeed they are, but only until they are drunk again". Scott
wrote that the drunken men "disgust me, but I'm going to have
it out with them somehow. There are only a few black sheep but they
lend colour to the flock". A few were discharged and replaced.
The men were nearly all bachelors and the young sailors soon were
welcomed right into New Zealand homes. Skelton lived with the Meares
family and eventually married the youngest daughter, Sybil, while
Ferrar went on to meet his future wife in Christchurch.
While in New Zealand, Scott was to receive some
good news from Markham. The men had determined that a relief ship
would be needed to resupply the Discovery the following year and,
of course, check on their condition. In May 1901 Mr. Llewellyn Longstaff
contributed £5000 which Markham used to purchase the Morgenen.
In September she sailed from Norway to England where she was refitted
and renamed the Morning. Lieutenant William Colbeck, RNR, was appointed
her commander. Colbeck had Antarctic experience as he had been the
magnetic observer on Borchgrevink's Southern Cross expedition.
On December 21 the Discovery was escorted by HMS
Ringarooma and HMS Lizard out of the harbor as cheering crowds stood
on the shore waving farewell.
Soon after crossing the Antarctic Circle they
entered the ice pack. Just before midnight on January 8, 1902, Royds
sighted land off the port bow. They headed for Cape Adare, where
Borchgrevink's party had wintered, and soon landed on the beach.
From Cape Adare they sailed nearly due south along the shore of
Victoria Land and eventually landed at Cape Crozier on the northeastern
tip of Ross Island where Royds and Wilson climbed to 1350 feet and
viewed the Great Ice Barrier stretching as far as the eye could
see. From Cape Crozier they steamed along the eastern edge of the
Barrier and on January 30, after emerging from a whiteout in a snowstorm,
the eastern extremity of the Barrier was reached where patches of
rock were determined to rise 2000 feet above them. Scott named the
new discovery King Edward VII Land. Scott turned about and retraced
their route back to McMurdo Sound where they intended to set up
winter quarters. Along the way they stopped long enough for Scott
and Shackleton to take a trip aloft in the balloon. The balloon
developed a leak and was never used again.
After arriving at their winter quarters, the ship
was secured by ice-anchors to an ice-foot and a 36-foot square hut
was built. Two smaller huts were put up to house the magnetic instruments
and the dogs were moved into their kennels.
On February 16, 1902, the sun slipped below the
horizon for the first time. It was too late in the season for any
long-distance sledge trips so Scott planned a few short practice
trips to test the equipment and men. As it turned out, Armitage
and Bernacchi were the only men with a little dog-driving experience.
It was hilarious to watch them but many hard lessons were learned.
The first trip was a three-day affair to White
Island by Wilson, Shackleton and Ferrar. A hard lesson was learned
on this first sledge trip as the three nearly became the first casualties
of the expedition. Distances in the Antarctic are very deceptive
and when plans were made, the three felt the island could easily
be reached in a day and a half of sledging. The men had decided
to haul the sledge themselves. It was two days before they reached
the island whereupon a blizzard set in and frostbite struck their
faces and feet. They were so exhausted from the trip that they could
hardly pitch their tent and cook their meal. The trip taught them
how little they actually knew about the Antarctic.
The next trip was taken by four officers and eight
men with four sledges (Leader Royds, Quartley, Vince, Weller, Wild,
Barne, Skelton, Evans, Heald, Plumley, Koettlitz and Hare). On the
morning of March 4 the men started out for the penguin rookery at
Cape Crozier where they were to leave a canister containing directions
on how to find the expedition's winter quarters. Scott was to lead
the party but had to decline as he had injured his knee in a skiing
accident. The dogs did hardly anything but fight, frostbite attacked,
the snow was so soft that they sank in well above their ankles and
progress was so slow that on the second day they only made five
miles. The rations got mixed up in the bag so that a mush of sugar,
cheese, butter, soup tablets and chocolate had to be cooked together.
Most of the dogs went lame and the men were exhausted so on the
fourth day Royds decided to push ahead with Koettlitz and Skelton
and send the rest, under leadership of Barnes, back to the ship.
Royds and his men had a terrible struggle and after five days of
hard going, they still hadn't found the rookery. Royd's decided
to give up the search and return to the ship as temperatures reached
-42°F. Royds, Koettlitz and Skelton reached the hut in four
days but the other men had not been so lucky. Barnes and the returning
party, eight members in all, had arrived to within four miles of
the ship at a hill called Castle Rock. When they reached the summit,
a blizzard came up and reduced visibility to nearly nil. They pitched
their tents and since they couldn't get their cookers to work, frostbite
began to set in. An experienced crew would have remained, no matter
how uncomfortable, but the novice crew decided to head out into
the storm. They soon found themselves on a steep slippery slope
where Evans stepped on a patch of bare ice and tumbled out of sight.
Barne sat down and slid after him with Quartley following close
behind. All three men miraculously came to a halt when a patch of
soft snow stopped them at the edge of a precipice with the sea pounding
below. A howling dog flashed past and disappeared over the edge.
Frank Wild took charge of leading the remaining five who were left
at the head of the slope. He led them off in the direction of the
ship but suddenly came upon a cliff with the dark sea below; another
step and he would have gone right over the edge. Unfortunately,
Vince could get no grip on the slippery ice and, like the dog, he
vanished over the edge and into the sea. Wild, Weller, Heald and
Plumley were able to fight their way back to the ship. Of the original
twelve, only four had returned. A search party was quickly organized
and led by Wild who came upon Barne, Evans and Quartley wandering
about in a daze at Castle Rock. That evening Royds brought in his
party and so it seemed only two men were lost, Vince and Clarence
Hare. Hare had last been seen heading back to the abandoned sledges
to get his ski boots. Two days later a figure came walking down
the hill towards the ship. Incredibly, it was Hare and without even
a trace of frostbite. It seems he had fallen down and simply gone
to sleep. The snow covered and preserved him as he slept for thirty-six
hours!
One more sledging trip was undertaken before winter
set in. On Easter Monday, Scott started off with Armitage, Wilson,
Ferrar and eight men with three sledges and nine dogs. The objective
was to lay depots towards the south for use of the sledging parties
in the spring. The dogs refused to work and the temperature dropped
to -47°F. When they became exhausted, the men crawled into their
sleeping bags. As Wilson put it, "Once in, one can do literally
nothing but lie as one falls in the tent. Reindeer skin hairs get
in your mouth and nose and you can't lift a hand to get them out".
At night the men would sweat which would produce a puddle beneath
them and since nothing could be dried, by morning "you put
on frozen mitts and frozen boots, stuffed with frozen grass and
rime. There's a fascination about it all, but it can't be considered
comfort". Two more days of this and Scott decided enough was
enough. They packed up their gear and headed back to the ship with
everyone learning from this experience. On April 23, 1901 the sun
sank below the horizon and would not reappear for more than four
months.
A winter routine was established with each man
having his own special task. Royds was in charge of the seamen and
petty officers, who were employed on routine activities such as
"watering ship" every few days by hacking out blocks of
ice and taking them on board to be melted in the boiler. Exercise
was a problem as blizzards and extreme cold kept everybody inside
for days on end. Birthdays were celebrated by special dinners and
a religious service was held each Sunday. The South Polar Times
appeared, edited by Shackleton, and all were invited to contribute;
the first copy was formally presented to Captain Scott. Some men
played cards and chess while others read and carried out scientific
studies.
Summer sledging began on September 2 when Scott
and eight others set out to lay a depot. They were back in three
days as the conditions were impossible for both men and dogs. A
typical sledging camp can be best described from descriptions written
in the diaries of the men who fought the extremes. The first step
was to set up a small tent just large enough for three men to lie
down in. Snow was piled up around the outside of the tent in order
to hold it down in case of a blizzard. The sledge would be unloaded
and the cooker set up inside the tent. One had to be careful when
grabbing metal as sometimes your skin would stick right to it. Changing
from the day outfit into night gear was a laborious task, indeed.
First you removed your finneskoes, making sure you left them in
the shape of your feet since they froze as hard as bricks in a few
minutes and would be impossible to put on in the morning until one
could find a way to thaw them out. Then you had to unlace your leggings,
which had to be done with bare hands. Needless to say, a pause was
necessary periodically to stuff your hands back in your pants to
keep them from frostbite. Three pairs of socks were pulled on which
had been kept next to the body all day in order to keep them warm.
Then came a long pair of fur boots reaching above the knee, then
fur trousers and finally a loose fur blouse. Day-socks were often
tucked inside the pant leggings in order to keep them warm for the
next morning. Then came supper which consisted of a hoosh made of
pemmican, cheese, oatmeal, pea-flour and bacon. At bedtime it was
often discussed whether each man should sleep in his own bag or
if three should try it together. When it's -40°F, it's certainly
much easier to keep warm with three in a bag. Unfortunately, one
could not move without disturbing the others, not to mention the
fit of experiencing a leg cramp, which they often did. Condensation
of breath was another problem. After a few days the inside of the
tent became covered with a layer of ice and every time the wind
shook it, a shower of ice fell on the men sleeping beneath. Also,
their breath froze in their beards and around the necks of their
fur coats which produced a collar as stiff as a board. Shivering
fits could last for hours. Next morning, the whole process would
be repeated in reverse. Then, Bernacchi wrote twenty-five years
later, came a ceremony that no one ever talks about. Bathrooms were
ruled out since they took too long to dig and besides, they would
just fill up with snow. So, "feeling like a ham in a sack",
each man took his turn loosening his clothes, going out into the
snow, facing the wind and "watchfully awaiting a temporary
lull. It's a ghastly business". No matter how quick you were,
your clothes would fill with snow and for the next few hours you
would walk around with a wet, cold bottom. Some of the men suffered
from dysentery so one can easily imagine how much misery these men
had to sustain when blizzards raged for days on end.
On September 17, 1902 Scott went on a preliminary
reconnaissance with Barne and Shackleton. On the second night a
blizzard came up and nearly took their tent away as they had neglected
to pile enough snow around the outside. Before they made it back
to the ship all had suffered from frostbite.
Many sledging trips took place over the spring
and early summer. On November 2 Scott, Wilson and Shackleton set
forth on their southern journey together with a large supporting
party under Barne. This was to be the centerpiece of the expedition.
Soon after leaving, they were slowed by sticky snow and deep sastrugi.
A two-day blizzard kept them in their tent and on the third day
Shackleton started to cough. Beyond Minna Bluff, they were into
the unknown and "already appeared to be lost on the great open
plain". At the 79th parallel, photographs were taken and half
of Barne's supporting party turned back. The rest pushed on until
November 15 at which time the balance of Barne's party took for
home. From the next day, things began to go wrong. The major problem
came with the dogs. Instead of bringing dog biscuit to feed them,
dried stockfish was brought. The stockfish had become tainted as
the Discovery sailed through the tropics and now the dogs wouldn't
eat it. From November 16 onwards Scott's diary makes sad reading,
with the dogs daily losing heart and condition, and the men's hopes
of making a heroic journey slowly fading away. There was nothing
they could do but to press on as far south as they could and when
the dogs could do no more hauling, they simply would do the hauling
themselves. They would have been better off just killing the dogs
and depoting the meat as they sledged south but they went on hoping
somehow the dogs would revive. On November 25, the party became
the first to cross the 80th parallel, beyond which all maps were
blank. "It has always been our ambition to get inside that
white space and now we are there so the space can no longer be a
blank; this compensates for a lot of trouble". Hunger now became
a problem with the men as rations were significantly reduced in
order to preserve what little food they had left. "We cannot
stop, we cannot go back, and there is no alternative but to harden
our hearts and drive", Scott wrote. "Certainly dog driving
is the most terrible work one has to face in this sort of business".
On December 5 Scott wrote, "The events of the day's march are
now becoming so dreary and dispiriting that one longs to forget
them when we camp; it is an effort even to record them in a diary.
Our utmost efforts could not produce more than three miles for the
whole march". Five days later the first dog died. The other
dogs pounced on the fallen animal and ate the corpse. They decided
to try and save the best nine dogs by feeding them the flesh of
the others. Wilson volunteered for the job of butchering as Scott
considered the job "a moral cowardice of which I am heartily
ashamed". The victim was led away, with tail wagging, as the
others howled in anticipation of the meal to come. Scott wrote,
"We can only keep them on the move by constant shouting; this
devolves on me. Stripes and Brownie doing absolutely nothing and
vomiting. Poor old Grannie pulled till she could pull no longer
and lay down in the snow; they put her on a sledge and she soon
died. The dogs take away all idea of enjoying the marches".
More problems appeared as Dr. Wilson noticed that
Shackleton's gums were swollen, the first sign of scurvy. Portions
of seal meat were increased but "hunger is gripping us very
tightly". On December 20 Wilson lay awake all night from sheer
hunger. On December 26 snow-blindness was bothering Wilson's eyes
so badly that he finally told Scott. The next day he hauled his
sledge blindfolded as Scott described to him the mountains that
were coming into view. Within sight was a huge peak which was larger
than any mountain they had seen thus far. They estimated its height
at 13,000 feet and named it Mt. Markham. Scott decided to turn for
home on December 31, having reached 82°17'S. They had traveled
300 miles farther south than anyone before them and were only 480
statute miles from the Pole.
A dog a day was dropping dead or being slaughtered.
Bismark was killed on January 4, Boss dropped behind and was never
seen again, and when Kid died, they gave up trying to drive the
rest and instead set them free to follow behind. When they were
down to one day's ration, Scott pulled out his telescope and spotted
the depot left on the outward march. Meanwhile, Shackleton's scurvy
symptoms had reappeared; his throat was congested, his breath short,
his gums were red and swollen and he started to spit blood. Now
there were only two men to pull the sledges as Shackleton could
only walk beside them in order to avoid too much exertion. On January
18, 1903, Shackleton completely gave out which forced them to camp
for a number of days. Finally, on January 28 they reached Depot
A, only sixty miles from the ship. "At length and at last we
have reached the land of plenty". With Shackleton aboard one
of the sledges, the team set off the next day and sledged fifteen
miles. On February 2, White Island came into view and Scott wrote,"We
are as near spent as three persons can be". On February 3,
Skelton and Bernacchi came out and greeted them. Soon they were
back on the ship with handshakes and congratulations coming from
all. They had been gone for ninety-three days and had covered 960
statute miles.
The Morning, commanded by William Colbeck, had
left Lyttleton on December 6, 1902. On January 24, 1903 she made
fast with ice-anchors to the flow off Hut Point. A party from the
Morning delivered bags of mail; Royds alone had sixty-two letters
and a cake. But all the talk was whether the eight or nine miles
of ice that penned in the Discovery would break up and be carried
out to sea in time for her to return with the Morning to Lyttleton.
Colbeck could not risk leaving any later than the end of February
and by February 10 it appeared the Discovery would not break free
as new ice was forming. On February 22 they tried blowing holes
in the ice with explosives to crack the floes but this didn't work.
By the 25th Scott accepted the fact that the Morning would have
to leave without them or risk being trapped itself. Fourteen tons
of stores were offloaded onto the ice along with twenty tons of
coal. The crew of the Morning sledged them half way at which point
they met the Discovery crew who finished the sledge back to Hut
Point.
The Morning had one other primary purpose to fulfill:
to remove any members of the expedition who wished to return to
civilization. Eight men applied to return with the Morning but Scott
struggled with how to handle Shackleton. In his diary, Scott wrote
that "On board he would have remained a source of anxiety,
and would never have been able to do hard out-door work". Dr.
Koettlitz then put his opinion in writing: "Mr. Shackleton's
breakdown during the southern sledge journey was undoubtedly, in
Dr. Wilson's opinion, due in great part to scurvy taint. I certainly
agree with him; he has now practically recovered from it, but referring
to your memo: as to the duties of an executive officer, I cannot
say that he would be fit to undergo hardships and exposure in this
climate". Shackleton went home. There is much controversy over
this decision as rumors were in circulation that Scott had other
reasons for sending Shackleton home. Armitage disagreed with Scott's
decision and bitterness towards Scott grew through the years that
followed. Before the departure of the Morning, Scott went so far
as to suggest that Armitage go home to be with his wife and a child
that he had never seen. Armitage was offended and insulted and later
wrote, "I had been told that Sir Clements Markham intended
to make the expedition a great Royal Navy one only, but all went
well with me for the first year, when Scott thought that he had
enough experience to go on his own--he had not --then he endeavoured
to rid himself of all the Merchant Service element. When he, in
a most kindly manner, suggested that I should return in the Morning,
I absolutely refused. But he never forgave me, as not only did I
destroy the RN idea, but he feared that I would obtain kudos which
he desired". It was in fact Armitage who never forgave Scott.
Once it was realized that the Morning would sail
alone, all the men got busy writing letters. On March 1, 1903 there
was a farewell party on the Morning which went on for half the night.
The next morning the Morning set sail. Shackleton shed tears as
he watched his friends and shipmates drop out of sight. In his place,
Sub-Lieutenant George Mulock, aged twenty-one, transferred to the
Discovery.
The winter of 1903 set in earlier and was much
colder than the year before. Sledging plans were made for the following
season while resentment grew between Scott and Armitage. Royds wanted
to go back to Cape Crozier to look for more penguin eggs while Armitage
wanted to go south across the Barrier, more or less in Scott's footsteps.
Royds wrote, "In my opinion, his sole wish is to beat the Captain's
record. This the Captain wouldn't allow, though not for that reason
by any means". This put Scott in an awkward position. If he
refused, Armitage would charge that Scott wanted to keep the "farthest
south" record to himself and not "let a subordinate have
a go". This raised the question with Scott: are they there
to do scientific and discovery work or are they there to compete
for a dash to the South Pole? Scott clearly felt that it was the
first-named objective. Scott could find no purpose in allowing Armitage
to make a dash to the south as he felt, without dogs, Armitage would
be fortunate to get as far as he had and would only risk death for
himself and his party. It simply made no sense to Scott. Wilson
wrote, "The Captain worked out the possibilities on paper and
showed them to me, and I agreed with him in thinking it was far
better to apply all our sledging energies to new work, rather than
covering old ground with the chance of doing so little at the end
of it. The upshot of it all is that Armitage is off the sledging
list for this year altogether, though whether this is due to himself
or anyone else I cannot say". Armitage's resentment only deepened.
On August 21, 1903 the rim of the sun appeared
for the first time over the horizon. The sledging plans were pinned
to the notice board with instructions for everyone to return and
be back on board Discovery by December 15 so that all hands could
work together to free the ship, if possible before the return of
the Morning. There were to be two major ventures, each with a supporting
party to lay depots and then return. Scott was to go west up the
Ferrar glacier as far as he could get; Barne was to explore an inlet
south of McMurdo Strait. The first to leave the ship, on September
7, were Royds, Wilson and four men, bound for Cape Crozier. The
journey was rather uneventful as eggs and two live chicks were collected.
On the trip back to the ship the temperature fell to -61°F which
resulted in significant frostbite among the men. They arrived back
at the ship without any further hardship. On September 9 Scott set
out with Skelton and four others to lay a depot in preparation for
the ascent of the western mountains. Meanwhile, Barne's party was
out on the Barrier laying a depot southeast of White Island where
the mercury in their thermometer dropped to -67.7°F and then
broke. Scott's team left for their main journey on October 12. With
four sledges, hauling 200 pounds per man, they reached New Harbor
and dragged their loads up Ferrar glacier to a basin at about 4500
feet. The runners on the sledges became damaged to the point that
the whole team had to turn around and travel eighty-seven miles
back to the ship for repairs. Five days later they started out again
and this time they succeeded in struggling to the top of the mountains
where they were caught in a blizzard that nearly buried them alive.
It was the most miserable week of his life, Scott wrote. They spent
twenty-two out of every twenty-four hours in their sleeping bags
for a whole week. They only climbed out long enough to get the cooker
going and eat a hot meal. On November 14 they reached the summit
at 8900 feet where they found themselves on a flat plain. For the
next two weeks they sledged due west. A constant icy wind produced
raw and bleeding lips. Lashly wrote, "The wind seems to be
very troublesome here". On December 1 the team turned back.
Scott wrote, "I don't know where we are but I know we must
be a long way to the west. As long as I live, I never want to revisit
the summit of Victoria Land". He was disappointed to find it
an endless plateau nearly 9000 feet above sea level.
It was now a familiar story: hunger, exhaustion,
deep sastrugi, fog, snowdrift, frostbite and snow-blindness. Food
ran short and oil was nearly gone. On December 14 Scott faced the
fact that they were lost. They had reached the edge of the plateau
and were beginning to descend when Lashly slipped and started to
slide on his back down the slope. In the process, he took the legs
out from under the others and down they went, sledge and all, and
when they came to a halt, they were stunned to find themselves at
the head of the glacier, in familiar territory, only five or six
miles from their depot. Miraculously, there were no broken bones.
In Lashly's words, "all of a sudden the Captain and Evans disappeared
down a crevasse and carried away one of the sledge runners, leaving
me on top. It was now my duty to try and get them up again".
Scott and Evans were left dangling with blue walls of ice on either
side and nothingness below. Remarkably, Scott was able to swing
his feet around and grip the wall with his crampons. Using the last
of his strength, Scott was able to climb out to safety while Lashly
pulled Evans up, whose only comment was "Well, I'm blowed".
That night they reached the depot and eight days later, on Christmas
Eve, they reached the ship. In fifty-nine days they had hauled their
sledge 725 miles.
Only four men were at the ship to greet them when
they arrived as the others were out on the ice, ten miles away,
sawing and blasting at the ice in the hope of breaking it up to
a point where the Discovery could be freed. Scott was pleased that
all the sledging trips had returned safely. On the western mountains
Ferrar had discovered a fossil leaf. Wilson was pleased with the
results of his "penguin" expedition.
By the end of December, "twenty miles of
ice hangs heavy on me". Scott had to start preparations for
a third winter at Hut Point. On January 5, 1904 a ship came into
view. It was the Morning and a few minutes later, Wilson exclaimed,
"Why, there's another". Wilson wrote, "We were dumbfounded".
Wilson and Scott set off for the two ships and were subsequently
greeted at the edge of the ice by four men speaking "such perfect
Dundee that we could hardly understand a word they said". They
were from the second ship, the Terra Nova. Soon Wilson and Scott
were aboard the Morning receiving their mail and questioning their
old friend William Colbeck as to why two relief ships were at anchor
in McMurdo Sound.
Terra Nova and Morning reach the Discovery
When the Morning returned from the Antarctic in 1903, Markham was
delighted with the news of Scott's expedition but clearly a second
relief expedition would be necessary. Unfortunately, there was little
money left so together with Sir William Huggins, Markham appealed
to the Government for a grant of £12,000. Markham knew all
along that a second relief expedition would be necessary but this
was a fact he had concealed from the Government when the original
plans were laid. The Government felt misled and promptly took the
matter out of the hands of the Societies. If left up to Markham
and his group, the Government felt they would find an excuse to
leave them on the ice for yet another year. The Government would
take no chances as the goal would be to get the men home, safe and
sound, even if it meant abandoning the Discovery. On June 20, 1903
the Government agreed to pay for the relief expedition provided
the Morning was handed over "absolutely and at once",
free of charge, to the Admiralty. Reluctantly, both societies agreed
and the Morning now had new owners. Sir William Wharton, the hydrographer,
was appointed by the Admiralty as chairman to the newly formed Antarctic
Relief Committee.
Now the Government took an odd position. Wharton
wrote, "It cannot be considered as certain that the Morning
could get through single-handed, and a second vessel, if a suitable
one could be found, would be a great additional safeguard".
This decision by the Admiralty came on June 22, 1903 which gave
them little more than four months to locate, refit and get her to
Lyttleton by mid November. Wharton investigated resources all over
Europe in an attempt to find a worthy whaling vessel that could
accomplish the goal and it was from St. John's, Newfoundland that
the suggestion came to purchase the Terra Nova. She was considerably
larger than the Morning at 744 tons and 187 feet in length, and
she came at a hefty price. She was purchased on July 6 for £20,000,
some £17,200 more than Markham paid for the Morning and well
above her appraised value. Try as they might, by the time she was
ready to sail it was simply too late in the season for the Terra
Nova to reach New Zealand on her own and still leave enough time
to make McMurdo Sound. So, Wharton instructed her to be towed by
naval vessels as far as the Persian Gulf from where she would continue
on under her own sail and steam. HMS Minerva towed her from Portsmouth
to Gibraltar, HMS Vindictive took her on to Aden and from there
HMS Fox towed her to an area 120 miles off the east coast of Socotra
where she was left on her own for the final leg. The Terra Nova
abandoned plans to meet the Morning in Lyttleton as it was closer
to sail directly to Hobart, Tasmania and meet up with her there.
The two ships met in Hobart on October 31 and together they departed
for McMurdo Sound.
Scott and his fellow officers were not only dismayed,
but insulted, by the arrival of the Terra Nova along with the Morning.
They had no idea of the problems encountered by Markham in England
but one thing they knew for certain: one ship was all that was needed
and to send two implied they were in deep trouble and unable to
handle things on their own. Scott wrote, "It was not a little
trying to be offered relief to an extent which seemed to suggest
that we have been reduced to the direst need. No healthy man likes
to be thought an invalid". Scott was very concerned that his
career would be jeopardized. After all, if found an incompetent
commander by his superiors, he might as well forget any promotion
upon their return. Ironically, the Government seemed concerned that
the expedition might be having too good a time. To them it made
no sense to have their officers and men remain indefinitely in the
Antarctic on full pay, all the while feasting on seals and provisions
sent at great expense in an annual relief ship. In July 1903 the
Government "could not consent to the officers and men of the
Royal Navy being employed in any further expedition in the ice,
even if sufficient private funds were raised for such a purpose,
and that Commander Scott will receive directions to this effect".
These directions were given to Colbeck, commander of the Terra Nova.
To make matters even worse, instructions were given to Colbeck to
have the Discovery abandoned if she could not be freed from the
ice. Scott was furious. In normal conditions "a sailor would
go through much rather than abandon his ship but the ties which
bound us to the Discovery were very far beyond the ordinary",
Scott wrote. She was dearly loved by her crew; she had been their
home for two and a half years. She was considered the finest ship
ever built for such a task and to abandon her would be like a broken
marriage; it may not have been their fault but the men would have
returned "as castaways with the sense of failure dominating
the results of our labours".
Twenty miles of ice separated the ship from open
water in mid January. Captain Mackay of the Terra Nova felt the
departure date should not extend beyond February 25, 1904 and Colbeck
agreed. Blasting and sawing proved useless so nothing was left but
to pray for southeasterly gales. Aboard the Discovery Scott read
the Admiralty's instructions to his crew and "There was a stony
silence. I have not heard a laugh in the ship since I returned".
The crew began the difficult task of transferring
all the scientific collections and equipment to the Morning and
Terra Nova. For the next five weeks the ice slowly began to break
up. An all-out attack on the ice was put into gear. Explosives,
saws and everything imaginable was used in an attempt to free the
ship. On January 27 Scott wrote, "I fear, I much fear, things
are going badly for us". Royds wrote, "It is perfectly
sickening. Why doesn't it break up? What the devil is holding it?
The prospects are as cheerless as they could be and I could simply
scream at our absolute helplessness". The thermometer fell
to -14°F. By February 3 Royds wrote, "things look hopeless...everything
is at a standstill". On February 12, Royds wrote, "As
I write, the Terra Nova is now only about two miles away and the
ice continues to break away. The ice was simply rushing out in huge
lumps and floes, every blast sending more out, and cracking well
behind". Now they worked harder than ever to free the ship
as destiny was in the balance. St. Valentine's Day saw the break
they needed as Scott and others raced up to Hut Point and noted
that "The ice was breaking-up right across the strait, and
with a rapidity which we had not thought possible. I have never
witnessed a more impressive sight; the sun was low behind us, the
surface of the ice-sheet in front was intensely white, and in contrast
the distant sea and its forking leads looked almost black. The wind
had fallen to a calm, and not a sound disturbed the stillness about
us. Yet in the midst of this peaceful scene was an awful unseen
urgency rending that great ice-sheet as though it had been naught
but the thinnest paper...now without a word, without an effort on
our part, it was all melting now, and we knew that in an hour or
two not a vestige of it would be left, and that the open sea would
be lapping on the black rocks of Hut Point".
The relief ships butted their way, side by side,
to the Discovery. The men cheered as the Terra Nova broke through
the last sheet of ice at 10:30 p.m. and freed the Discovery. A few
days were hurriedly spent preparing the ships for departure. In
memory to George Vince, a final emotional ceremony was held on the
ice and a wooden cross was erected to mark his grave.
Despite a difficult departure to open water, the
three ships finally were under way, leaving McMurdo Sound on February
19, 1904. Scott decided to take the Discovery round Cape Adare and
explore to the west along the northern coast of Victoria Land. The
Morning was to head straight for the Auckland Islands where the
three ships would rendezvous and sail together to Lyttleton. After
two years in the ice, the Discovery was far from seaworthy; water
poured into the holds, the pumps wouldn't work, gales came up and
subsequently everyone got seasick since they'd been landlocked for
so long. The rudder was in such poor shape that it was ready to
fall off; they had a spare but it was only half as big. The farther
west they went, the thicker the ice became. Becoming short of coal,
the ship turned north to find open water so they could use the sails.
By this time she had lost touch with the Terra Nova. She was pushed
so far north that she missed land altogether and instead rediscovered
the Balleny Islands. On March 14 they reached the Auckland Islands
with only 10 tons of coal left aboard. Neither of the other ships
were there so while they waited, some of the crew cleaned and painted
the ship while others went ashore and shot anything that looked
edible, including wild cattle and pigs. The New Zealand Government
maintained a depot of emergency supplies for the use of shipwrecked
sailors (called by sealers Sarah's Bosom). The other vessels showed
up a few days later and after three days sailing, on Good Friday,
April 1, 1904, they reached Lyttleton Harbor. There was a wonderful
welcoming party and guests and reporters swarmed the ships. Unfortunately,
a remark made by Scott in a crowd was overheard by a reporter who
took the comment totally out of context and falsely reported the
incident. The men of the Discovery were in total agreement concerning
the absurdity of sending the Terra Nova to rescue them. The story
published by a Reuter's reporter made headlines in England: Commander
Scott emphatically protests against the dispatch by the Admiralty
of the Terra Nova, which he declares to have been a wasteful expense
of money. He says that had the proper position of the Discovery
been made known, it would have been obvious that she was perfectly
safe, and no assistance beyond that which the Morning could render
was requisite. Scott felt his goose was cooked when it came to a
promotion. Even Royds commented, "Although it was the truth,
he never said it".
Back home, matters weren't much better. Together
with his brother-in-law, Scott was still supporting his mother.
His two sisters were having a difficult time in the dressmaking
industry as his mother wrote, "it is really a bad season, and
no money going". Scott felt if he was not promoted, a certain
life of poverty would return. Scott wrote to his mother from New
Zealand, "If they wait till we get home, then two or three
persons will inevitably leap over my head. The question is whether
they will pass me over in June. It is such a close thing that it
must make a great deal of difference".
Meanwhile, the ship was in need of repairs and
yet money was so tight that Scott only paid the regular crewmembers
while the officers were left to fend for themselves. Everyone wrote
home from Lyttleton. Royds and Wilson wrote to Scott's mother, Hannah,
telling her how proud they were of her son's efforts. Wilson wrote,
"Without a doubt he has been the making of the Expedition and
not one of us will but feel more and more grateful to him for the
way he has acted throughout. Notwithstanding that it is a difficult
thing, at least I imagine it is, for the Captain to make intimate
friends with anyone, I feel as though we were real friends, and
I need hardly say I am proud of it".
The Discovery was placed in dry dock for two months
to complete repairs. Meanwhile, Scott was wined and dined by dignitaries
all over the island. Scott wrote his mother, "We have had a
very good time here but it is high time we were off, as all our
young men are getting engaged. Skelton is actually caught. I believe
the young lady is very nice". The young lady was Sybil. Others
were caught as well: Teddy Evans of the Morning and Ferrar among
the officers, Blissett and Weller among the men.
Incredibly, Royds and Scott were taken to court
and fined £5 for shooting cattle on Enderby Island, in the
Auckland Islands, while waiting for the other ships to rendezvous.
Although running wild, they had no idea the cattle were private
property.
As for the scientists work, the collections went
to the British Museum of Natural History and their statistical material
to the Royal Society. Upon arrival in England, all the scientists
went their separate ways. Wilson worked on his huge collection at
the Natural History Museum. He never went back to medical practice.
The Service men had no problems with future employment; they simply
slipped back into their regular jobs without any loss of seniority.
Royd's figured it would take ten years before a promotion and he
was quite accurate as he did not reach rank of Captain until 1914.
Skelton made a brilliant career for himself in the Royal Navy. But
it was Scott who pondered his fate as the Discovery sailed from
Lyttleton on June 8, 1904. On September 10, over three years after
leaving, the Discovery reached Spithead.
Sir Clements Markham and his wife were aboard
the ship when she steamed into Portsmouth Harbor where "All
the men of war, and a line of boats sent from Whale Island, gave
hearty cheers". It was here that Scott learned of his appointment
as post-Captain which was to take effect the following day. In his
welcoming speech at the East India Docks on September 16, Markham
declared, "Never has any polar expedition returned with so
great a harvest of scientific results". Truly, this had been
the most revealing of all Antarctic exploration as meticulous records
were kept on the scientific work. But Scott could not accept full
credit as he proclaimed that "An Antarctic expedition is not
a one-man show, not a two-man show, nor a ten-man show. It means
the co-operation of all...There has been nothing but a common desire
to work for the common good".
Scott now moved his mother and two sisters to
a house they found at 56 Oakley Street, off the Chelsea Embankment.
This was to be Scott's home for four years and it still stands today
marked by a blue commemorative plaque.
Initially, Scott received royal thanks but his
only honor was the appointment to Commander of the Victorian Order,
a step up from the Membership which he already had. Even the press
hounded the Government as they felt he should have at least received
an Order of the Bath, if not a knighthood.
An exhibition at the Bruton Galleries opened on
November 4, 1904, which drew an estimated 10,000 visitors. Inside
were a collection of Wilson's drawings, Skelton's photographs, a
model of the Discovery, sledging equipment and rations. On November
7 Scott gave his first big lecture to 7,000 invited members and
guests of the two Societies at Albert Hall. Now the praise was raining
down on Scott. He was awarded the Patron's Gold Medal of the RGS,
was made a member of the French Legion of Honour and the Russian
Geographical Society, and received medals from the Geographical
Societies of Philadelphia, Denmark and Sweden. What pleased him
most was an honorary degree of Doctor of Science from Cambridge
University. When he left London he headed for Edinburgh for more
lectures and the Royal Geographical Society's Livingstone Medal.
Shackleton had arranged this and now the two were on excellent terms.
Scott wrote his mother, "Everyone is very pleased with Shackleton.
He is showing great energy and business capacity". Scott traveled
with Shackleton to Glasgow and Dundee for more speaking engagements.
Meanwhile, Markham pleaded with the Government to retain the Discovery
for future polar work but his remarks fell on deaf ears. She was
sold to the highest bidder, the Hudson's Bay Company, for £10,000,
about one-fourth her original cost.
Scott continued to travel around the country giving
lectures and making preparations to publish a book about the expedition.
Scott wrote, "Of all things I dread having to write a narrative
and am wholly doubtful of my capacity; in any event if I have to
do it, it will take me a long time. I have not...the pen of a ready
writer". By the start of 1905 the book was nearly completed.
On October 12, 1905, in an edition of 3000 copies, the Voyage of
the Discovery was published. An incredible piece of work, the two-volume
edition was profusely illustrated with Wilson's drawings and Skelton's
photographs. Scott needlessly worried about his abilities for writing
as nearly all the critics praised it. The Times Literary Supplement
called it "a masterly work". His former crewmembers each
received a free copy and they all loved it. Scott insisted on sending
Wilson a check for £100 as a fee for reproducing his drawings;
Wilson refused but Scott made him take it anyway. (Today, a single
drawing can fetch $10,000 or more.) The book sold reasonably well;
the first edition sold out immediately so 1500 more copies were
printed the following month. But then the sales fell dramatically;
when the book went out of print in 1919, total sales amounted to
5,272 copies. (Try to find one!) Scott was a little concerned with
Armitage's newly published book, Two Years in the Antarctic which
also came out in the autumn of 1905, but he wrote nothing derogatory
about his former leader.
Scott was single and thirty-seven years old when,
in April 1906, he announced at an RGS meeting that "I am sorry
to say that my lines are cast in such places that in all probability
I shall not return to those regions". But there was a great
deal of emotion as in the same speech he touched on "those
fields of snow sparkling in the sun, the pack-ice and bergs and
blue sea, and those mountains, those glorious southern mountains,
rearing their heads in desolate grandeur. The movements of the pack,
those small mysterious movements with the hush sound that comes
across the water, and I hear also the swish of the sledge...I cannot
explain to you, they will always drag my thought back to those good
times when these things were before me". Bernacchi wrote years
later, "Those were golden days and their memories are fraught
with joy". Michael Barne, with frostbitten fingers, was already
trying to raise money to finance his own expedition. Later in April,
Scott was saying that "in all probability" he would return
to the Antarctic as London society expected him to make a dash for
the Pole. In September, Scottish playwright J. M. Barrie wrote to
Scott, "I chuckle with joy to hear all the old hankerings are
coming back to you. I feel you have to go out again, and I too keep
an eye open for the man with the dollars". By early 1907 ,
Scott had made up his mind to lead a second expedition to the Antarctic.
|
HMS
Discovery 
