With Scott in the Antarctic Read online

  For D.J.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Introduction by Dr Michael Stroud

  Prologue

  1 Early Years

  2 Cambridge

  3 Edward Wilson, M.B.

  4 Antarctic Recruit

  5 England to Madeira

  6 To the Polar Ice

  7 Entering Antarctica

  8 Furthest South

  9 Paintings and Penguins

  10 The Grouse Challenge

  11 Terra Nova

  12 The Winter Journey

  13 Death in the Antarctic

  Epilogue

  Notes on Sources

  Selected Bibliography

  Copyright

  Antarctica

  Acknowledgements

  Whilst working on this book over the past five years I have discussed the subject with a number of people. All have been unfailingly helpful and enthusiastic and this has made the work a pleasure to undertake. Progress would not have been possible without the kind support of Dr David Wilson, Edward Wilson’s great nephew, who allowed me access to the Wilson Family Archive at Cheltenham and who has made helpful suggestions on the work throughout.

  Staff at the Scott Polar Institute have offered efficient and ready help. I should like to mention particularly: Robert Headland, Shirley Sawtell and Mark Gilbert and more recent help from archivist Naomi Boneham, Lucy Martin, manager of the picture library and Heather Lane, the institute librarian.

  Anne-Rachael Harwood and Stephen Blake in the Cheltenham Museum offered unfailingly cheerful and knowledgeable assistance. Several colleagues read sections, or indeed all of the work and I must thank particularly, Doctors: John Henderson, John Millard, Athena Leousi, Robert Bratman and Noelle Stallard. Mrs Jacqui McDowell and Nigel Oram have also commented.

  Many colleagues have offered specific comments on detailed sections, in particular: Professor Sir John Crofton, Lady Eileen Crofton and Dr Max Caplin on tuberculosis; Professor Hugh Pennington on infection in the Antarctic; Professor C.A.C. Pickering on ‘allergy’ at low temperatures; Professor Stuart Malin on the mysteries of magnetism; Professor Jeffrey Wood, of the Food and Animal Science Department at Bristol, on vitamin C in animals; Professor Christopher Bates, Honorary Senior Scientist in Cambridge, on the difficult subject of bone and tissue breakdown in scurvy. I visited Dr Robert Thomas of Edinburgh Zoo on several occasions to view and talk about penguins. The late Dr Mark Harries discussed hypothermia. I am greatly indebted to these colleagues. I accept responsibility for any misunderstandings or omissions.

  In the library at St George’s, Wilson’s and my medical school, Nalini Thevakarrunai gave every help possible, as did Anne Blessley, the curator of Bushey Museum; Sarah Strong, Archives Officer at the Royal Geographical Society; Pauline Widdows of Cheltenham College and her assistant Jill Barlow. Jaqueline Cox of the Archive Department of the University of Cambridge and Gemma Bently, the (then) archivist at Gonville and Caius, were patient with my repeated questions concerning medical education in the late 1800s. James Cox, the current archivist, added further information. Professor Sir Alan Fersht gave me invaluable information concerning Gonville and Caius College for which I am grateful.

  Many thanks also to Dr Michael Stroud for his introduction to this book.

  Introduction

  I have always had an interest in Polar history, perhaps wishing to put my own Polar endeavours into context, but before I read this book, Wilson remained an enigma. Clearly, I had come across many descriptions of him amongst the diaries and works of his fellow explorers. Scott, Cherry-Garrard and others had all sung his praises and he seemed admired by everyone, yet his spirit and character had eluded me. Indeed, when reading entries in Wilson’s own Polar diaries, I had often found his descriptions of events almost curt and I had not really taken to the man. He seemed a strange puzzle. How could someone so clearly capable as a doctor, religious thinker, indeed real polymath, paint with such passion yet express himself so briefly, even coldly? I could not put these pieces together but Isobel Williams has let me do so.

  This thoroughly and meticulously researched book brings Wilson to life. I now know that his many writings go way beyond Polar diaries and convey so very much more than I had realised. He had many strengths but he also had weaknesses, and this work provides a balanced portrayal. As such, it is in marked contrast to other modern accounts of the same expeditions which, although also carefully researched, have fallen foul of hopeless bias. Perhaps in an attempt to make the accounts more ‘newsworthy’, Roland Huntford for example lambasted Scott and all associated with him. He therefore failed to convey the wonderful qualities of these early explorers, essentially criticising them for acting like Edwardian Naval Officers, whichis exactly what most of them were. Huntford also criticised Wilson and others for pursuing the cause of science beyond the simplistic goal of racing Amundsen to the South Pole, missing the point that Wilson was a scientist through and through. Isobel Williams has not made the same mistake. Instead, she has caught the man in context, conveying the time in which he lived and the environment in which he worked. The result, describing his development from childhood collector, through budding artist and doctor, to a mature and superbly capable Polar explorer, is a book that rates beside the best on this heroic age of exploration. A book that captures the soft, thoughtful, considerate heart of Wilson the man, as well as the horrors of man-hauling, hunger and the hardship of the Polar blizzard.

  Dr Michael Stroud

  July, 2008

  Prologue

  In March 1912, in a tent on the bitter Antarctic wasteland, three men lay dying slowly, overcome by malnutrition, dehydration and hypothermia. Outside the tent a blizzard howled. The temperature was minus 40°F. The men had had little food for days, no fluid to slake their thirst. One of the three was Edward Adrian Wilson, the Doctor, Chief of Scientific Staff and ‘father-confessor’ of an expedition that had aimed to win the race to the South Pole for King and Country. The two other men were Robert Falcon Scott, the leader of the expedition and ‘Birdie’ Bowers, a man renowned for his stamina and strength. All three had succumbed gradually to the appalling conditions of their return journey from the Pole.

  Sixteen men had started on the final expedition in November 1911. They knew that they would be competing with a Norwegian team led by Roald Amundsen and each man hoped and dreamed of being chosen for the final push to ‘bag the Pole’. Scott ultimately chose four companions: Wilson, Bowers, ‘Titus’ Oates and Edgar Evans from the group that had already endured nine weeks of energy-sapping travel. The five set off with high hopes, but when they eventually reached the Pole they found the Norwegian flag already there. There was nothing for it but to turn their backs ‘on the goal of their ambition’ and to face 800 miles of solid dragging to their base-camp on Ross Island. On this dreadful return two of the men, Oates and Edgar Evans, died earlier leaving Scott, Wilson and Bowers to battle on with their ill-fated effort to reach base-camp. The bodies of the three were found nearly eight months later, along with their personal and graphic accounts of the struggle to the Pole and their doomed attempted return. The terrible news of the death of the five explorers was blazoned around the world when the remaining expedition members eventually got back to New Zealand. In Britain hopes of welcoming the men back as the historic and courageous conquerors of the Pole gave way to a huge outpouring of grief. Over the weeks this sorrow was assuaged and partially replaced by pride in the men’s achievements as accounts of their heroism and endurance were published in the national and international press. The country became inspired. Throughout Great Britain and the Empire men, women and children we
re excited and encouraged by the story. Scott’s ‘Message to the Public’ that ‘Englishmen can endure hardships, help one another and meet death with as great a fortitude as ever in the past’1 caught the public imagination as an example of how to live and die when called to serve King and Country. The Daily Mirror, on 6 November 1913 wrote, ‘these last letters should be a battle cry to the youth and manhood of England. They should inspire and give heart and courage’.2 People of all ages soaked up details of the heroic adventurers and learnt what the human frame can make itself withstand. This made a lasting impression at an important time, just before the carnage of the First World War when the youth of the country was to be bombarded with sacrificial propaganda.

  This book tells the story of Edward Adrian Wilson, a determined, self-contained, solid and deeply religious man who was the only officer to go with Scott on both his Antarctic expeditions of 1901 and 1910. After his death Wilson became a hero of Antarctic exploration, but he became an explorer by default. Whilst other Arctic and Antarctic travellers planned and dreamed of exploration and fame, Wilson’s interests as a young man were primarily directed towards natural sciences and painting. From childhood he had a passion for recording wildlife and he was precocious in his scientific objectivity; he would never accept theories without testing them. Though these attributes were to be of benefit to the expeditions, they were not developed for this purpose – he trained as a doctor and passed his medical examinations in 1900. By 1901 he had little medical experience and he was asked to go on the first Antarctic expedition, as Junior Surgeon and Zoologist, as much because of his artistic ability as his medical abilities; neither had he trained for exploration. In spite of these apparent disadvantages, his contributions towards the expeditions became legendary. His personality powerfully affected those in contact with him; he became a close friend and important influence on Captain Scott, who wrote of Wilson, ‘his kindness, loyalty, good temper and fine feelings have endeared him to us all. How truly grateful I am to have such a man with me and how much it lightens my responsibilities for the general well-being it would be difficult to express’.3 Others agreed, ‘if you knew him you could not like him: you simply had to love him’.4

  Of his many interests exploration was only one. He was a naturalist, lifetime artist, doctor and researcher, involved family member and devoted husband. Above all throughout his life, even as a student, he was committed to a religious ideal and became by degrees a practical ascetic. His belief was that life is simply a journey towards eternity; this means that a successful life is judged by the effort put into it, not the outcome. Forgetfulness of self and actions to help others were his creed; he thought these more important than the bubble of worldly glory. He thought that life is measured by motives rather than by results, a belief that would have sustained and upheld him in the attempt at the Pole.

  Some twenty years after his death, his wife Oriana collaborated with George Seaver to write his biography. The biography contains extracts of many of Wilson’s letters to her. Sadly she destroyed much of the remainder of this correspondence before she died, although many of Wilson’s letters to friends and his father’s memoirs remain. Seaver’s biography was obviously strongly influenced by Oriana and published many years after Wilson’s father (who had a very strong relationship with his son) had died. Now, nearly a hundred years after his death, it is time for a reappraisal of his life.

  I first became interested in Wilson when, as a junior doctor at St George’s Hospital London, I sat in the common room surrounded by Wilson’s iconic paintings. St George’s was proud of their association with Wilson and Wilson enjoyed and appreciated his time there. He thought that the teaching was good and the range of clinical material excellent. He kept up his association with the hospital and after the first expedition returned on several occasions. Ill health meant that he did not practise as a conventional doctor in England but his medical training was an important part of his contributions in the Antarctic.

  When Wilson first sailed to the Antarctic little was known about it and the interior remained a mystery. He would have known about the Arctic, which although dangerous and hazardous, had been opened up to a degree by successive naval expeditions, and explorations that were driven primarily by commercial and nationalistic impulses. The Northwest Passage (the sea connection north of Canada joining the Atlantic and the Pacific and thought to be a quicker passage to the Indies) was of strategic importance as a barrier to USA and Russian territorial claims and the Arctic seas yielded a valuable trade in whale-blubber for lighting and in seal fur. Scientific discoveries were a by-product of this trading, though many had potential commercial applications. By contrast the Antarctic was thought to offer few commercial opportunities and remained the world’s last vast unexplored space. Wilson would know that a Royal Naval expedition, under the command of Captain James Cook, had crossed the Antarctic Circle in the 1770s reaching 71° S, 300 miles inside the Circle. Cook described the seal colonies on the South Georgia Islands but gave up attempts to find ‘Terra Australis Incognita’ although he always suspected that there was a landmass in the south. More than fifty years later, another naval officer, Captain James Clark Ross, had been sent to the Antarctic to gather information about the location of the magnetic pole, the position of which was of importance for navigation. Ross’s expeditions reached the Antarctic and followed the mountainous coastline southwards until progress was halted by a wall of ice that he called the Great Ice Barrier. He was not able to explore the interior of the landmass. The seas surrounding the Antarctic, however, gradually became familiar to whaling captains who headed south to kill whales and seals, when demands exceeded supplies in the Arctic. An appetite for Antarctic exploration and scientific development was whetted when zoological and meteorological data started to reach Europe. The continued importance of Antarctic research, particularly in relation to magnetism, was understood and in 1901 expeditions left Germany, England and Sweden for the Antarctic. The English expedition (under Captain Scott and with Wilson as Junior Surgeon and Zoologist) spent two years in the south of Victoria Land. The thrust of the expeditions was scientific and included a magnetic survey of the area and a collection of botanical and geographical specimens as well as exploration towards the South Pole. This emphasis was to have a powerful influence on the second British expedition in 1910 whose mission was not only to reach the Pole but also to investigate meteorological, zoological and magnetic phenomena.

  Wilson thought Scott a man worth working for: ‘I believe in him so firmly that I am often sorry when he lays himself open to misunderstanding. I am sure that you will come to know him and believe in him as I do.’5 He considered there was important work to do in the Antarctic. He was prepared to lose his life in the Antarctic as long as he had fulfilled his duties to the utmost. He was a tough, loyal and brave man who wholeheartedly took part in the expedition that led to his death but for which he recorded few regrets.

  1

  Early Years

  Men of Edward Wilson’s family were explorers, entrepreneurs, businessmen, naturalists and soldiers; the family had a strong religious framework. For Victorians the family was both a refuge and the hub of their social life and Edward Adrian (Ted to his family) was part of a large and interconnected family. He was born on 23 July 1872, the fifth child and second son of Edward Thomas Wilson (1832–1918) and his wife Mary Agnes (1841–1930). His father was a doctor, a medical practitioner, in Cheltenham, Gloucestershire and Wilson was eventually to be followed by five younger siblings. He was born at a time when Great Britain was the hegemonic power of the world. Its citizens, in a way difficult to recognise in our multicultural age, were (in the main) proud that Englishmen were the undisputed rulers of millions. They did not question, and certainly felt no reason to apologise for, Britannia’s right to rule the waves, believing that God had ordained the Empire for the benefit of the world. Every schoolroom would have a map that showed that approximately 30 per cent of the world was coloured pink, the extent of ‘T
he Empire’. Children of the Empire, such as the Wilsons, born into middle-class households, were taught the importance of serving God, Queen and Country. They were proud to be British, and excited by the idea of serving the Empire.

  Wilson was born in No.6 Montpellier Terrace. The house is still lived in, though the number changed. It is a good-sized house of four storeys and has sizeable rooms on the ground and first floor. When Wilson was born there was a nursery on the top floor, space for five live-in servants and a large kitchen in the basement. Nevertheless the household must have been fairly chaotic. Birth control was known but rarely practised and Wilson’s mother already had children of three, two, one and ‘under two months’ at the time of the 1871 census.1 The duty of married Victorian women, however educated, was to produce children and Mary Agnes did her bit. By the time of the next census in 1881 Mrs Wilson had eight children: thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, eight (Wilson), five, two and a baby aged ‘less than two months’. Already one daughter had died.2

  Wilson had had the conventional upbringing typical of thousands of children in England in the 1870s with one very important exception. At a time when children were often over disciplined, over controlled and physically punished, his parents were caring and supportive, intelligently committed to promoting their children’s health and happiness. They had the vision to allow their son unlimited freedom to explore the local countryside, to draw and to paint. Life was not boring. He had a happy childhood.

  Cheltenham is an ancient town. It is recorded in the Domesday Book of 1086.3 Medicinal spring waters, which brought prosperity to the town, were discovered in the early 1700s. Visitors paid to take the waters (and visit the small assembly room nearby for billiards and cards), which were claimed as something of a ‘cure all’ particularly for digestive problems. They certainly acted as a laxative.4 The Wilson children would have thrilled to the names of the famous who had visited their town: Handel, Samuel Johnson and even King George III.5 They would have been proud that the Duke of Wellington, victor of Waterloo, had tried the cure, as had members of the exiled French Royal Family.6 These important visitors would have seen gentlemen’s clubs, tea dances, hunt balls, garden parties and concerts. They would not have seen the backdrop of poverty, the struggle for survival, the appalling living conditions endured by the poor of a town that, like many others, had a huge divide between rich and poor.7 But Dr. Wilson, the children’s father, would have seen it all. In his work as a general practitioner, he visited and helped patients in all walks of life.