CHAPTER XXIX.

THE SECOND GERMAN EXPEDITION.

The First German Expedition—Preparations for a Second—Building of the _Germania_—The _Hansa_—The Emperor William’s Interest in the Voyage—The Scientific Corps—Departure from Bremerhaven—Neptune at the Arctic Circle—The Vessels Separated among the Ice—Sport with Polar Bears—Wedged in by the Grinding Ice—Preparations to Winter on the Floe—The _Hansa_ lifted Seventeen Feet out of the Water—A Doomed Vessel—Wreck of the _Hansa_.

On the 24th of October, 1868, a number of gentlemen were assembled round a festive board in Bremen to celebrate the happy return of the first German expedition, under Captain Karl Koldewey. Among the guests was Dr. A. Petermann, the eminent geographer, to whose exertions in great part the inauguration of the expedition had been due. Its object had been to reach as near the North Pole as might be, the route selected being that between Greenland and Spitzbergen. Baffled by an icy barrier off the South Cape of Spitzbergen, at which time a terrific storm was raging, he had steered to the eastward, passing among clusters of icebergs, some of which were taller than his vessel’s masts. After passing safely through many perils, he returned to the South Cape, and coasted Spitzbergen to the north-west; later he had endeavoured to make the ice-girt shores of East Greenland, but not succeeding, again returned to Spitzbergen, and after sundry explorations, turned his vessel’s head towards home.

It was at the banquet above-mentioned that expression was first given to the idea of a second expedition to the inhospitable regions of the far North. There had been some slight surplus of funds left from the first expedition, and it was determined to make an appeal to German liberality to complete a sum sufficient to build a steamer specially adapted for Arctic waters. Committees were formed in Berlin, Munich, Bremen, Hamburg, and numerous other cities, and the result in the end was very satisfactory. The _Germania_, a steamer of 143 tons burden, was laid on the stocks at Bremerhaven on March 10th, 1869, and thirty-six days afterwards was launched. She was about the average size of a Brazilian or West Indian fruit or coffee schooner, ninety feet long, twenty-two and a half feet broad, and eleven feet deep. Although, therefore, an extremely small steamer, she had been built in the strongest manner, with extra beams, thick iron sheathing, and every other improvement which might render her comparatively safe in the ice. Her sharp build proved subsequently of great advantage to her when sailing. Including the machinery and ship’s fittings, the _Germania_ cost £3,150. A second vessel, the purchase-money for which had been guaranteed by some Bremen merchants, although eventually the subscriptions released them, was a Prussian schooner of 76¾ tons burden, which was re-christened the _Hansa_, and was meant to be, in some sense, a tender to the _Germania_, although fate eventually decreed otherwise. Great care was taken with the victualling and equipment of the ships; but little salt or dried meat was taken. Many presents of “the good Rhine wine” and other luxuries, as well as books, instruments, and other kindly remembrances, came in from friends of the expedition.

The officers and scientific members of the expedition counted among their number several men who had previously or have since become famous. The commander of the whole was Captain Koldewey, a Hanoverian, who had long been a sailor, and who, to fit himself for his new duties, temporarily gave up his profession, in the winters of 1867-8 and 1868-9, to study physics and astronomy at the University of Gottingen. With him were associated Dr. Karl N. J. Borgen, and Dr. R. Copeland, an Englishman, who were conjointly to take scientific observations, &c.; also Julius Payer, a lieutenant in the Imperial Austrian army, on leave. The latter, in particular, joined the expedition with a considerable amount of prestige, derived from an active life spent in the cause of science. Although only twenty-seven years old, he had made and recorded many expeditions in the Alps, and in the mountainous districts of Austria. He had also taken an active part in 1866 in the Italian war. Lastly, to Dr. Adolphus Pansch, surgeon of the _Germania_, were assigned the departments of zoology, botany, and ethnology. Nearly all of the above had earned their laurels in the scientific literature of Germany. The captain of the _Hansa_ was Paul Friedrich August Hegemann, an experienced navigator; with him were associated two scientific gentlemen, Dr. Bucholz and Dr. Gustavus Laube.

On May 28th, 1869, Captain Koldewey had an audience of his Majesty King William, at Babelsberg, who expressed his gratification at having secured the services of a leader so energetic. The departure of the expedition took place from Bremerhaven on the 15th of June following, in the presence of the King, his Royal Highness the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg Schwerin, Count (now Prince) Bismarck, General von Moltke, and other distinguished men. The King heartily shook the hands of the commander and his scientific corps, and inspected the vessels with much satisfaction. The parting moment at length arrived, and amid the salutes of artillery and hearty cheers from the crowds ashore, the vessels made for the mouth of the Weser, and put to sea.

The first part of the voyage was not specially eventful. The vessels several times parted company, but rejoined afterwards. The dense fogs which infest those latitudes were the cause of much anxiety on the part of the commanders. On July the 4th Dr. Copeland shot a gull, which fell in the sea, and was nearly the cause of a serious disaster. A sailor, without undressing, jumped overboard after it, and the vessel sailing rapidly was soon a considerable distance from him. He was almost on the point of sinking, when a boat, which had been hastily launched, reached him, and he was drawn out of the water. “Like a drowned poodle,” says the narrative, “the sinner stood once more amongst us, receiving as a reward a sound lecture from the captain, followed by a good draught of brandy.” On July the 5th they passed the Arctic circle (66° 33’), the _Hansa_ being the first in the race, and the first to unfurl the North German flag. “Conformably to the custom,” says Koldewey, “as on crossing the equator, Neptune came on board to welcome us, and wish us success on our voyage; of course not without all those who had not yet crossed the Arctic circle having to undergo the rather rough shaving and christening customary on such occasions.... Universal grog and good fellowship on board both ships brought the ceremony to a close.”

After a separation of many days the vessels again joined on July 18th. A prize of a bottle of wine had been offered on board the _Germania_ to the individual who should first sight the _Hansa_. Soon after breakfast on that day a sail is discovered from the topmast. It is a schooner, and as the whale fishers do not use such craft it must be the _Hansa_! A little later, and by getting up steam on board the larger vessel, they rejoined, and the officers met and compared notes. They parted that evening full of confident hopes for the future. Little did they think that the vessels would never meet again, and that although as comrades they _would_ meet, a fourteen months’ interval must elapse! By the misunderstanding of a signal the _Hansa_ set all sail and parted company when off the east coast of Greenland in lat. 70° 46’ N., long. 10° 51’ W., and soon became entangled in the ice, while they looked in vain from the “crow’s nest” for an opening. We shall now follow the fortunes of the _Hansa_.

That vessel was soon inextricably wedged in the ice. The coast of East Greenland was often in sight, and several unsuccessful attempts were made to reach it. During this period they had some sport with the polar bears. On September 12th a she bear and cub approached the vessel, the former being speedily shot. The young one was caught, escaped again, and at last was brought back swimming, and was chained to the ice-anchor. It was very much frightened, but nevertheless devoured its mother’s flesh when it was thrown to it. The men built it a snow house, and offered it a couch of shavings, but young Bruin, as a genuine inhabitant of the Arctic seas, despised such luxuries, and made its bed in the snow. Some days later it had disappeared, together with the chain, which must have become loosened from the anchor. From the weight of the iron alone the poor creature must soon have sunk. Other Arctic guests visited the _Hansa_. With a brisk wind came two white foxes from the coast, a certain proof that the ice must extend thither.

Towards the end of September the necessity of wintering on the floating ice off the coast was decided upon, and they resolved on the erection of a winter house. Bricks were ready in the shape of “coal-tiles,” while water or snow was to form the mortar. Before anything else was done, the boats were cleaned out, covered with a roofing, and provisions placed ready for them in case of emergency. Captain Hegemann sketched the plan for the building, which was to have an area of 20 × 14 feet, with low roof. Wall-building has to be given up in frosty weather on land, not so on the ice. Finely-powdered snow was strewn between the interstices, and water poured upon it, which in ten minutes became solid ice-mortar. The roof was at first composed of sail-cloth and matting. Meantime the ice was grinding and surging around them, and threatening to crush the vessel at any moment. Underneath the ice-field it groaned and cracked, “now sounding like the banging of doors, now like many human voices raised one against the other, and lastly like the drag on the wheel of a railway engine.” The apparent cause was that the drifting ice was pressing in upon the fixed coast ice. Meantime the _Hansa_ quivered in every beam, and the masts swayed to and fro. Provisions and stores were moved to the house in case of sudden disaster.

On the morning of the 19th a NNW. gale with snow-storm foreboded mischief. The air was gloomy and thick, and the coast four miles off could not be seen. The ice came pressing upon the vessel, and before noon the position became serious. The piled-up masses of “young ice,” four feet thick, pressed heavily on the outer side, and the vessel became tilted upwards at the bows. The men took their meals on deck, not knowing what might happen next. “Soon,” says the narrator, “some mighty blocks of ice pushed themselves under the bow of the vessel, and although they were crushed by it, they forced it up, slowly at first, then quicker, until it was raised seventeen feet out of its former position upon the ice. This movement we tried to ease as much as possible by shovelling away the ice and snow from the larboard side. The rising of the ship was an extraordinary and awful, yet splendid spectacle, of which the whole crew were witnesses from the ice. In all haste the clothing, nautical instruments, journals and cards [the translator means charts] were taken over the landing-bridge. The after part of the ship, unfortunately, would not rise, and therefore the stern-post had to bear the most frightful pressure, and the conviction that the ship must soon break up forced itself upon our minds.” At the end of the afternoon the ice retreated, and the vessel was once more again in her native element. The pumps were set to work, and it was soon made clear that all their exertions would not save the schooner, for the water steadily gained upon them. The fate of the _Hansa_ was sealed, and the coal-house on the ice was destined to be their only refuge, may-be their grave.

The work of removing everything available went on steadily. A snow-storm had raged during the day, but it cleared in the evening; the moon shed her cold light over the dreary ice-fields, and ever and anon the Northern lights flashed over them in many changing colours. The men, whether at the pumps, or engaged in removing the stores, had a hard time of it. The decks were thick with ice, and those at the pumps stood in tubs to keep dry and warm. Night allowed the crew some few hours of welcome rest, and at early dawn all set to work again. “But the catastrophe was near; at 8 A.M. the men who were busy in the fore-peak, getting out firewood, came with anxious faces, with the news that the wood was already floating below. When the captain had ascertained the truth of this intelligence, he ordered the pumping to cease. It was evident that the ship was sinking, and that it must be abandoned.

“The first thing to be done was to bring all necessary and useful things from the ’tween decks on to the ice—bedding, clothing, more provisions, and coal. Silently were all the heavy chests and barrels pushed over the hatchway. First comes the weighty iron galley, then the two stoves are happily hoisted over; their possession ensures us the enjoyment of warm food, the heating of our coal-house, and other matters indispensable for a wintering on the floe. At three o’clock the water in the cabin had reached the table, and all movable articles were floating. The fear that we should not have enough fuel made us grasp at every loose piece of wood and throw it on to the ice. The sinking of the vessel was now almost imperceptible; it must have found support on a tongue of ice or some promontory of our field. There was still a small medicine-chest and a few other things which, in our future position, would be great treasures—such as the cabin-lamp, books, cigars, boxes of games, &c. The snow-roof, too, and the sails were brought on to the ice; but still all necessary work was not yet accomplished. Round about the ship lay a chaotic mass of heterogeneous articles, and groups of feeble rats struggling with death, and trembling with the cold! All articles, for greater safety, must be conveyed over a fissure to about thirty paces farther inland. The galley we at once took on a sledge to the house, as we should want it to give us warm coffee in the evening. We then looked after the sailor Max Schmidt, who was suffering from frost-bite, and brought him on planks under the fur covering to the coal-house. By 9 A.M. all were in the new asylum, which was lit by the cabin-lamp, and looked like a dreary tomb. Pleased with the completion of our heavy day’s work, though full of trouble for the future, we prepared our couch. A number of planks were laid upon the ground, and sail-cloth spread over them. Upon these we lay down, rolled in our furs. A man remained to watch the stove, as the temperature in the room had risen from 2° Fahr. to 27½° Fahr. It was a hard, cold bed; but sleep soon fell upon our weary, over-worked limbs. On the morning of the 21st we went again to the ship to get more fuel. The coal-hole was, however, under water. We therefore chopped down the masts, and hauled them with the whole of the tackle on to the ice—a work which took us nearly the whole day. At eleven the foremast fell, at three the mainmast followed; and now the _Hansa_ really looked a complete, comfortless wreck. For the last time the captain and steersman went on deck, and about six o’clock loosed the ropes, which, by means of the ice-anchor held the ship to the field, as we feared that our floe, which bore all our treasures, might break.” The scientific collections and photographs had to be utterly abandoned. On the night of the 21st and 22nd the wreck sank, about six miles from the coast of Greenland. The jolly-boat, which stood loose on deck, floated, and was drawn on the ice.