Part 4
In September he was ordered to St. Louis for the purpose of conducting some recruits westward, and for a short time it was uncertain whether he would have to go to Texas or the Territory of Wyoming, whereby were shown the uncertainties which attend life in the army. He took the recruits to Fort Laramie, and, on his way, was in danger of being embroiled with the Cheyenne Indians under Sitting Bull, but returned in safety, by way of his old camp at Omaha, to his company at Fort Leavenworth. During another trip, which he soon after took with his company, he saw in western Kansas many Russian immigrants. They were poor, and had settled at great distances along the streams to be near water, not always easily found in these regions. They knew nothing of the recent outbreak of the Indians, and, indeed, many of them had never seen an Indian. The lieutenant also stumbled upon a colony of Swedes, and at one place saw three women, whose husbands had been killed by the Indians, and who were weeping bitterly in their distress. While his company was on the march he generally kept at the head of the column, thereby receiving the title of Pedestrian of the Command. Much of the country over which they traveled was monotonous in the extreme—wide stretches of prairie reaching to the far horizon. Antelopes and Jack-rabbits were frequently seen, and sometimes were fired at without success. But, to his mind, the most wonderful features about the country were the countless tracks and bones of the buffalo, while not a living animal was seen. One of his guides informed him that in former times he had killed three hundred in a single day, so that it was no wonder that they were now extinct.
In a letter to one of his sisters, in October, he speaks of his return from this chase after Cheyenne Indians, and then goes on to mention some amusing incidents that had occurred at the post, and gives her this bit of artistic advice: “I hope you will profit by your talent for painting, _not bury it in the ground, like the foolish steward_. Painting is a great and very popular accomplishment; there is none perhaps more so.” No matter what happened in or about the garrison, he seemed always ready with his common-sense opinions referring to passing events. For example, after alluding to the burning of a stable, with thirteen mules, when some of them that had been released ran into the fire from fright, he thus proceeds: “I was talking ‘over the wire’ with one of the men on our telegraph line, and what he said is no doubt true, and shows the short-sightedness of the Government. He said that he and many of the other soldiers had damaged or lost their clothes, and that if soldiers were reimbursed for their losses on such occasions, they would work with much more _vim_ and energy, and that he heard one man say that he would not lose his new pantaloons for all the mules in the stable. Of course, in the case of a private house on fire, I believe the enlisted men would risk everything; but in cases of this kind, where Government property only is concerned, this feeling has its existence. There is, too, some reason for this feeling; for, no matter how hard a soldier or officer may work at a fire to save public property, the Government will not reward him even by the restitution of his clothes. Nothing short of an act of Congress would be authority for such an issue.”
That the heart of this young man was as pure as his mind was bright, may be seen by reading the following remarks concerning the death of a little niece: “I learn with deep regret the death of poor little Agnes, and sympathize heartily with Lidie and her husband in their affliction, the depth of which none but a parent can know. It should be a consolation, however, that the disease carried the little one away in all the innocence of childhood, before her mother’s love had been intensified with years, and her own intelligence had taught her to love and cling to life. The sad news reached me on the day of the funeral of the little daughter of a brother lieutenant. The little baby seemed very amiable in life, and after death lost none of her sweetness. I sat up with the remains during the night before the funeral.” Alas! when this noble-hearted young man gave up his own life, his only night-watchers were the stars and the icy mountains of the far-distant North!
In December, 1878, the Twenty-third Regiment received orders for service in the Indian Territory, and a few weeks afterward entered upon its line of march. In the mean time, the lieutenant made himself useful in performing the duties of an engineer for the sanitary benefit of the Leavenworth garrison. After some appropriate studying, he soon got the knack of running the levels and measuring angles with the theodolite. He found these new duties interesting, preferring the field-work to the making of the necessary profiles and other drawings, involving measurements to the ¹/₁₀₀₀ of an inch—rather a confining employment.
V. ARMY-LIFE IN INDIAN TERRITORY AND COLORADO.
From the spring of 1879 until the winter of 1881, Lieutenant Lockwood spent a part of his time in the Indian Territory, but chiefly in the State of Colorado. The first duty of his company was to establish a cantonment on the Canadian River. On their way thither, they made a halt at Fort Supply, where the country was sparsely settled, and where the rolling prairies seemed desolate and interminable. Those of his regiment who had been ordered to Supply, he found in miserable quarters—log-huts covered inside with canvas—old, cold, and forlorn in appearance inside and out, and yet the canvas walls thus used and useless were furnished at a cost of hundreds of dollars. After leaving that place for the Canadian River, he was made the engineer officer, and, with a view of making a map of the route and surrounding country, devoted his time to the science of topography, being rewarded by the hearty approbation of the officer in command.
He had counted upon having some good hunting on this route for turkeys and other game, but was disappointed, owing to the fact, as was supposed, that several hundred Indians had passed through the country some weeks before and had gobbled up everything, including a host of _gobblers_. On reaching their destination, the company went into camp under a bluff on the Canadian River, where they were to remain until buildings could be erected in the immediate vicinity. At the conclusion of his first letter written home from this camp, he says, “I am lying at full length on a buffalo-robe with my paper on ‘Daniel Deronda,’ and the position is not comfortable.”
In June, Lieutenant Lockwood was sent with a small party to Post Reno, where troubles were apprehended with the Indians. It was not necessary to do any fighting there, however, for the reason that the chief inhabitants of the region were rattlesnakes, tarantulas, and prairie-dogs, and the Indians in the vicinity did not seem to be in a blood-thirsty mood. Returning to the cantonment on the Canadian River, he was depressed by the discomforts of the place—no society and many extra duties—but he, nevertheless, found time and inclination to study the Spanish language, as if determined not to leave a stone unturned in his efforts to make himself useful, or ready for any emergency. After confessing his fondness for social intercourse, he writes: “At times I get the _ennui_ and _blues_ very much. Still I try to preserve a philosophic mind, and when the dark side of the picture presents itself, I take a different stand-point, and thus force myself to see, by contrast, the bright side. I find, and ever have found, that the more occupied I am, the better contented I feel.”
In April, 1880, he went upon a kind of exploring expedition, riding in ten days a distance of nearly three hundred miles, and on returning was glad enough to have a little rest in his camp. But, before he could fall into any idle habits, he was ordered westward, with his command, on still more arduous duties. In a letter from a camp near Saguache, on the borders of Colorado, he sent home the following account of what he had seen and experienced: “We left Fort Garland on the 17th of May, and have since been traveling across ‘San Luis Park,’ the ‘Valley of the Gods.’ This is a vast level plain in southern Colorado, surrounded on all sides by high, snow-capped mountains, which always seem within a few hours’ travel, and yet are miles and miles away. When one considers that Blanco Peak is over fourteen thousand feet above the sea-level, one does not wonder that it is very plainly seen from where I am now writing. This Paradise of the Gods is some two hundred miles long by over sixty across, and is a veritable desert. I have met nothing like it outside of Arizona. The vegetation consists of greasewood and sage-brush—sometimes not even this; the irrigation-ditches that one meets near the few streams seem hardly able to produce a feeble, stunted grass. For miles and miles, all is pulverized dust, which, blown by the winds in blinding clouds, covers everything like the ashes of a volcano. Night before last one of these _pleasant_ zephyrs blew down several of the tents, and filled the air so thickly with dust, that several of the command, who had their hats blown off, were unable to find or recover them. They say it sometimes rains here, but I very much doubt it. The few ranches we have encountered are on streams descending from the mountains, which sink in the plain after running a short distance; and bordering them are the squalid adobe houses, the only habitations in the country.
“Improbable as it may seem, the owners say that they raise potatoes, etc. Surely these mountains should be of gold and silver to compensate for the sterility of the soil.” The prospect did not make Lockwood hilarious, and he frankly said that he was tired of army-life, and that eating almost nothing but bacon, and going without any comforts caused him to sigh for a return to the old Annapolis farm. He had not the ambition to enjoy the glory of army-life in such a wilderness. It might, indeed, give one a competency, but it was a gold-mine in Arizona that had recently given a fortune of fifty thousand dollars to one of the officers of his regiment. After a short stay at Garland and Alamosa, and catching a glimpse of the Del Norte, the command reached the Cochetapa Pass, near Los Pinos and the summit of the Rocky Mountains; and now the lieutenant began to experience a kind of mountain-fever, which he called a weird condition of the system. He was troubled with the shortness of breath usual at great altitudes. The six hundred mules drawing the train of one hundred wagons had great difficulty in passing through what he called the terrible cañons. Early in June, 1880, he reached the Uncompahgre River, where the command encamped. Hardly had he obtained any relaxation before an order came from Fort Leavenworth, detailing a general court and making him the judge advocate, thereby proving that there was not much rest for an officer of recognized ability. While anxious to make money, he did not, while among the mountains, follow the example of certain fellow-officers, who devoted some attention to mining speculations, their mode of operating being as follows: “For example, they secure the services of a competent man, provide him with food, etc., and send him out to prospect. Those in the Nineteenth have received a very flattering letter from their man, who has struck a very rich vein, _according to his account_. But this and all similar ventures are mere chance. Money, to the amount of twenty-five or fifty dollars, seems little to invest in enterprises that may pay thousands; but these investments count up and are not pleasant to consider when all ends in failure. One of the officers has invested not less than thirty-three hundred dollars in this mine-hunting business. He goes it alone, and has all the enthusiasm of an old miner.” Not caring to waste his money in speculations of this sort, he improved his leisure in exploring the scenery of the region, especially some cañons where the walls were several thousand feet high, and also a stream called Cow Creek, where he had some superb fishing and caught the largest trout he had ever seen, while his companions killed a number of deer. Among the scenes in which he was especially interested was a hot spring which measured thirty feet across, a waterfall two hundred feet high, and a small mining hamlet nestled in a pocket of the mountains, and where, funny to relate, he and his companions were suspected to be tramps or horse-thieves. Returning to his regular cantonment on the Uncompahgre, he was informed of a pending trouble with the Ute Indians, when, according to his habit, he expressed this decided opinion: “If the sentimentalists on Indian questions in the East could be brought out here and made to feel and suffer the outrages which these savages inflict on isolated settlers, there would not be so many to support the Interior Department in its abominable prejudice in all questions of Whites _vs._ Indians.”
In one of his letters, written from a cantonment in Colorado, he mentions with pain the temporary fall of one of his brother officers, who, while playing a game of poker, was charged with dishonesty, thereby pocketing a hundred dollars. The poor fellow had been placed in arrest and was to have a trial. In speaking of his manner of killing time in his Colorado camp, he alludes to the fact of having two setter dogs, which he was training for use and his own amusement, and further says that when not playing a game of billiards at the store near the camp, he spent his time in reading, the books then occupying his attention being, Tyler’s “Baconian Philosophy,” which he greatly admired; Swinton’s “History of the Rebellion,” which he criticised with some severity; and Green’s “Russian Campaign in Turkey,” which interested him greatly.
VI. PREPARING FOR THE ARCTIC REGIONS.
From this point, the story of Lieutenant Lockwood’s life will be chiefly given from the records which he kept during his sojourn in the Arctic regions. For reasons which the general reader will appreciate, all merely technical and official remarks have been omitted, and only those retained which are calculated to illustrate the personal character of the man and officer, it being understood that his journals, illustrating his merits and labors, will be fully set forth in the official history, to be hereafter published, of the expedition with which he was so honorably identified.
In 1880 it was proposed by an International Polar Commission, for the purpose of elucidating in behalf of science the phenomena of the weather and of the magnetic needle, that meteorological stations should be established by various countries in different parts of the polar regions. The Congress of the United States made an appropriation for establishing a scientific colony at the two places designated for the occupation of the Americans—viz., Point Barrow, in Alaska, and Lady Franklin Bay, in Grinnell Land. These stations were to be occupied for from one to three years. At the time the expedition was being organized in Washington for the latter place, Lieutenant Lockwood was on a visit to his parents in that city. Taking a special interest in the operations of the Signal-Service Bureau, which had the business in charge, he forthwith volunteered for the proposed expedition, and his services were accepted by the Secretary of War. When the party for the Lady Franklin Bay station was fully organized, it consisted of First-Lieutenant Adolphus W. Greely, U. S. A., commander; Lieutenants F. F. Kislingbury and James B. Lockwood, U. S. A., as assistants; and Dr. O. Pavy, as surgeon and naturalist; with a force of twenty-two sergeants, corporals, and privates, all connected with the army, and whose names are given as follows: Edward Israel, Winfield S. Jewell, George W. Rice, David O. Ralston, Hampden S. Gardiner, sergeants in the Signal Corps; William H. Cross, sergeant in the general service; David L. Brainard and David Linn, sergeants of cavalry; Nicholas Saler, corporal of infantry; Joseph Ellison, corporal of infantry; Charles B. Henry, Maurice Connell, Jacob Bender, Francis Long, William Whistler, Henry Biederbick, Julius R. Fredericks, William A. Ellis, and Roderick R. Schneider, privates in various branches of the army; and, finally, two Esquimaux, Jans Edwards and Frederick Christiansen, of Greenland.
In view of the possibility that Lady Franklin Bay might become a permanent station, all the preliminary arrangements were made as complete as possible. A steamer called the Proteus was secured for conveying the expedition to Lady Franklin Bay, and she was ordered to await the arrival of the explorers at the port of St. John’s, in Newfoundland. Lieutenant Lockwood sailed in a steamer from Baltimore with the party and reached St. John’s late in June.
Here it may not be out of place to submit a few remarks on the utility of these Arctic explorations, which are sometimes criticised by people who, without due consideration, jump to hasty conclusions. In former times their main object was to find open passages between the northern regions of Europe, Asia, and America, and to settle the problem of the north pole; and statistics show that when these expeditions have confined their operations within reasonable limits, the mortality attending them has been remarkably small—less than in ordinary commercial voyages. Sir John Franklin went far beyond these limits, and left no monuments by which he could be traced. De Long put his ship into the polar ice with the design of moving with the polar drift. The Greely Expedition was expected to be confined, and was confined, to the well-known waters of Smith’s Sound. It could, therefore, be reached at any time, and, if necessary, it could fall back upon a point accessible at all times. All that was required to secure its safe return was _a well-chosen base, and an absolute certainty that this base would be maintained_. Unfortunately, neither requirement was fulfilled, and hence nineteen men lost their lives. Sledge-journeys from established bases, though fraught with great labor and discomfort, have never been attended with serious loss of life. It is now about one thousand years since the first Arctic voyage was made, and their aggregate usefulness can hardly be questioned when we remember that they have developed fisheries that have built up the commerce and navies of nations, and that the direct return into the exchange of England has been far more than the cost to her of all her Arctic explorations. The Polar Commission, already alluded to, inaugurated a new policy in regard to Arctic explorations, and one whose utility can not be questioned. It had its origin, in 1875, in the mind of a German discoverer named Carl Weyprecht; and in the opinion of many of the leading minds of the world, the meteorological observations inaugurated by him have done much, and will do much more, to rectify errors in the polar problem and bring to light information about the ice zones, which will give the observers a prominent position in scientific history. According to Professor Joseph Henry, the problems connected with physical geography and science, which are yet unsolved, are the determination of the figure and of the magnetism of the earth, complete knowledge of the tides of the ocean, the winds of the globe, and the influence of extreme cold on animal and vegetable life. Surely the men who voluntarily toil and suffer in their efforts to obtain the needed light on all these subjects, are quite as worthily employed as those who struggle for riches or political fame. In the Professor’s opinion, all the branches of science above mentioned are indirectly connected with the well-being of man, and tend not only to enlarge his sphere of mental activity, but to promote the application of science to the arts of life. A French writer, after applauding the plans of the Polar Commission, concludes his remarks as follows: “The larger number of the civilized nations are striving by scientific means to wrest the mysterious secrets of the deep from the hidden recesses of the North.” In 1884 the number of nations that had entered heartily into the project was thirteen; fifteen polar stations, and over forty auxiliary stations, had already been established. That the reader may fully understand the operations and exploits which are to be chronicled in the subsequent pages of this volume, it may be well to submit the subjoined extract from the official report of General W. B. Hazen, Chief of the United States Signal Service, for the year 1881: “Owing to the very mobile nature of the atmosphere, the changes taking place on one portion of the globe, especially in the Arctic zone, quickly affect regions very distant therefrom. The study of the weather in Europe and America can not be successfully prosecuted without a daily map of the whole northern hemisphere, and the great blank space of the Arctic region upon our simultaneous international chart has long been a subject of regret to meteorologists. The general object is to accomplish, by observations made in concert at numerous stations, such additions to our knowledge as can not be acquired by isolated or desultory traveling parties. No special attempt will be made at geographical exploration, and neither expedition is in any sense expected to reach the north pole. The single object is to elucidate the phenomena of the weather and of the magnetic needle as they occur in America and Europe, by means of observations taken in the region where the most remarkable disturbances seem to have their origin.”
While the foregoing were to be considered as the primary considerations, it was expressly stated in the official instructions, that sledging parties, generally, should work in the interests of exploration and discovery, and should be conducted with all possible care and fidelity. Careful attention was also to be given to the collection of specimens of the animal, mineral, and vegetable kingdoms. It will be seen that all that was accomplished by Lieutenant Lockwood was instigated by the mandate connected with the use of the sledge.
It thus appears that the Greely expedition was not only intended to accomplish a good work, but that in all human probability the same might have been accomplished without serious loss of life. That there was a deplorable loss of life, we can only lament, leaving for others to point out the causes of the disaster which befell the expedition.
VII. FROM NEWFOUNDLAND TO LADY FRANKLIN BAY.
All things being ready, the Greely Expedition left St. John’s, Newfoundland, for Lady Franklin Bay, on Thursday, July 7, 1881, in the steamer Proteus, Captain Pike. She was a barkentine, measuring two hundred and fifty feet in length, and having a burden of six hundred tons. Built in Scotland for the whaling and sealing service, she had already made several successful voyages within the Arctic Circle and on the Labrador coast. The departure of the ship elicited no demonstration from the people on the dock, excepting a few cheers from some warm-hearted fishermen. Whether the good people of Newfoundland were disgusted because they could not sell any more supplies at extravagant prices, or were displeased with the Yankee explorers for presuming to compete with Englishmen in the icy North, are questions not to be easily solved.
During his stay in St. John’s, Lieutenant Lockwood wrote a letter to his mother, in which he gave the following account of the city: