Greely Arctic Expedition | No Relief | 2

After more than a year of isolation, tensions among the expedition’s leadership and crew rise, challenging Greeley’s authority as commander and threatening the cohesion necessary for survival.

Winter Tensions Rise as Greeley's Authority Is Challenged

Dr. Pavie Questions Greeley's Leadership After Months of Discontent

As the second Arctic winter drags on, diversions like lectures and games grow less effective, and Dr. Octave Pavie, the lead scientist and only medical doctor, grows openly critical of Greeley’s command. Initially muttering his dissent in private, Pavie eventually voices his grievances about missing life-saving medications directly in the common area, interrupting Greeley as he writes a letter. Pavie insists his unique Arctic experience entitles him to challenge Greeley’s decisions, asserting that he should be leading the expedition. Over the past year, Pavie has made his ambitions clear, repeatedly questioning Greeley’s fitness to lead and the wisdom of his decisions.

Frederick Kislingberry: Resentful Ex-lieutenant and Guest Without Authority

Lieutenant Frederick Kislingberry, who resigned as Greeley’s second-in-command after a dispute the previous summer, becomes another source of discord. Having missed a chance to return home, Kislingberry remains on the expedition with no formal authority, relegated to the role of an unwanted guest. He feels Greeley resents him and, in turn, considers himself little more than a burden. Isolated by the command structure, Kislingberry barely speaks to Greeley but soon finds common cause with Pavie.

Pavie and Kislingberry Criticize Greeley's Decisions, Predict Mission Disaster

Kislingberry and Pavie become close allies, spending hours together criticizing Greeley and predicting the expedition’s doom. Kislingberry believes staying at Fort Conger would be safer and that Greeley’s plan is doomed to failure. Pavie echoes these concerns, warning that if rescue fails again, their lack of sailing experience will be fatal on any retreat south. Despite Greeley’s reluctant admission that this is a flaw, he resents Pavie’s constant reminders. The two outcasts deepen the divide by recruiting the enlisted men into their circle of complaint, turning the expedition’s social fabric ever more fractious.

Greeley and Pavie's Conflict Over Scientific and Medical Authority

Pavie Failed to Catalog and Organize Expedition Specimens, Leaving Them Mixed Without Origins or Dates

Greeley discovers that Pavie has neglected his scientific duties, failing to catalog and organize the collection of plant and animal specimens. The scientific archives are in disarray, with mixed artifacts and no record of origins or dates.

Greeley Reprimanded Pavie; He Refused to Renew His Contract or Surrender Notes and Diary

Upon confronting Pavie, Greeley reprimands him for his negligence. In a heated exchange, Pavie announces he will not renew his contract when it expires, and refuses Greeley’s order to surrender his notes and diary.

Greeley's Threat to Court-Martial Pavie

Greeley threatens to place Pavie under arrest and promises to court ...

Lockwood's Team Discovers Significantly Despite Treacherous Ice Blocking a New Northern Latitude Record

In late March 1883, Lieutenant James Lockwood, Sergeant David Brainard, and Greenlandic Inuit sleddriver Thorlope Christiansen set out from Fort Conger, determined to push farther north than any previous expedition. The same trio had broken the record for farthest north the year prior. The expedition advanced quickly, reaching the base of the Blackhorn cliffs—one hundred miles north of Fort Conger—in just six days, a journey that had previously taken twenty-two. However, after the cliffs, the nature of the sea ice changed dramatically. It became dangerously thin, and at one point, the dogs pulling the sled broke through and nearly drowned. Recognizing the peril, Lockwood and Brainard climbed a large glacier west of the cliffs to survey the landscape. From that vantage point, they observed open water stretching all around, confirming that continuing north with sleds was impossible, and their attempt to achieve a new northern latitude record was thwarted.

Undeterred by this setback, Lockwood decided to redirect the mission’s aim. Rather than pushing north, he proposed exploring westward to answer a significant geographical question: Was Ellesmere Island truly an island or a peninsula?

Expedition Confirms Ellesmere Island As Separate, Setting Geographical Record

In late April 1883, Lockwood, Brainard, and Christiansen set out again—this time heading west. For several weeks, they traveled about forty miles per day across challenging fields of arctic mountains, glaciers, valleys, and lakes. By mid-May, the team came upon a vast body of water previously observed from a mountain. Lockwood sketched their surroundings while Christiansen managed the dogs, and Brainard took particular interest in the body of water. Tasting it, Brainard confirmed it was saltwater—they had reached the Arctic Ocean. This vital observation proved Ellesmere Island was, indeed, entirely surrounded by water.

Their journey also broke new ground in another sense: the party had traveled further west on Ellesmere Island than anyone before them. Calculations would later reveal their westward trek by foot and sled amounted to one-eighth of Earth’s circumference at that parallel, marking a substantial geographic ...

Failed 1882 Relief Mission to Fort Conger Necessitates Second Rescue

In 1882, the relief ship intended to resupply and maintain contact with Adolphus Greeley and his expedition at Fort Conger never arrived. Unbeknownst to Greeley and his men, the vessel had been forced to turn back after encountering thick, impassable sea ice, stranding the expedition without fresh supplies or word from home for another winter in the Arctic. Greeley’s wife, Henrietta Greeley, became deeply alarmed, laying the blame for the failed mission squarely on Secretary of War Robert Todd Lincoln. According to Henrietta, Lincoln’s reluctance and slow authorization had stalled the relief mission’s departure, giving the ice floes time to solidify and block the northern route. She feared that another delayed mission might lead to disaster for her husband and his men.

Political Pressure Prompted a Second Relief Mission In 1883

Fearful for her husband’s safety, Henrietta Greeley began enlisting help from the families of other expedition members, most notably Lieutenant James Lockwood’s parents. Henrietta wrote to both of Lockwood’s parents, sympathizing with their lack of communication from their son, and asking for their assistance in applying pressure on Secretary Lincoln to act. She specifically requested that Henry Lockwood press their case directly with Lincoln—ideally in a way that would not seem like interference, perhaps by offering support with planning or logistics. Initially hesitant due to concerns about professional boundaries, Henry Lockwood ultimately agreed to offer what help he could.

As the families watched the calendar and worried for their loved ones, the pressure they brought to bear did not go unnoticed. In March 1883, in part due to this concerted advocacy, Secretary of War Robert Todd Lincoln authorized a second relief effort. Unlike the previous year, which had been entrusted to an inexperienced Army clerk, the new mission would be led by West Point graduate Lieutenant Ernest Garlington. Garlington’s orders were not to merely resupply the expedition, but to bring Greeley and his men home, as Secretary Lincoln showed no further interest in maintaining an American presence in the Arctic.

Second Relief Mission Launched but Hampered by Delays and Vessel Separation

Lieutenant Ernest Garlington, though a decorated Army veteran, lacked experience in ocean navigation but was selected to command the operation. He would lead the team aboard the Proteus, the same ship that had brought Greeley to Ellesmere Island, with the U.S. Navy’s Yantic serving as a support vessel stocked with extra supplies. Their plan was to depart St. John’s, Newfoundland, as soon as sea ice allo ...

The Proteus Encountered Worsening Sea Ice Conditions En Route To Fort Conger

After Departing Godhound On July 16, the Proteus Made Slow Progress Through Ice-clogged Waters For Five Days Before an Apparent Opening Led Garlington to Order Full Speed Despite Pike's Concerns

After departing Godhound on July 16, the Proteus quickly found its way blocked by thick Arctic sea ice, echoing the mistakes of the Neptune the previous year. For five days, progress was painfully slow as Captain Richard Pike constantly maneuvered the vessel through narrow, shifting lanes between ice floes. Lieutenant Garlington, focused on reaching Fort Conger quickly, remained determined to press on. On July 21, they arrived at Cape Sabine, checked previous supply caches, and discovered an additional one from a British expedition a decade earlier. From a high vantage point, Garlington spotted what he believed to be an open lane through the ice and insisted on departing immediately. Pike warned about the risk of moving too soon—believing the hull could be cracked or the ship trapped—yet Garlington’s orders prevailed.

The Opening Was a Tidal Shift, Leaving the Ship Surrounded by Crashing Ice Floes Called the Devil's Symphony

At 8 p.m. on July 22, Pike reluctantly ordered the push north into Smith Sound at full steam, dodging icebergs amidst turbulent currents. The supposed opening proved to be only a tidal shift. Soon, the Proteus was enveloped by massive, shifting ice floes that crashed together with eerie shrieks and groans—the Devil's Symphony—a perilous concert at the heart of Arctic navigation.

Pike's Crew Struggles With Fatal Ice Conditions

Pike's First Arctic Voyage With Inexperienced Crew

Due to the late start of the mission, Pike was forced to sail with an inexperienced crew, lacking seasoned Arctic sailors. His own son, only 21 and on his first polar voyage, served as first mate and took turns in the crow’s nest scouting for leads through the ice.

Pike Maneuvered the Proteus Through Ice Floes At Night

As the Proteus pressed on, Pike used the ship’s iron bow to carefully force a way through dense ice late into the night. The ship was within only 400 yards of an open sea lane by the early morning of July 23. However, the encroaching floes began to overwhelm their path. Pike attempted to reverse course and retreat to the south, but it was too late—the ice had closed in completely, trapping the ship.

Proteus Sank After Ice Pierced the Hull, Forcing the Crew to Abandon Ship and Strand On Ice Floes

Ice Floes Crush Proteus On July 23, 1883

By early afternoon, July 23, 1883, still two hundred miles from Fort Conger, immense ice floes surrounded the Proteus. With a thunderous jolt, ice pierced the hull on the starboard side, sending water flooding into the hold. The wooden planking was no match for the grinding ice. Captain Pike ordered everyone to abandon ship without delay.

Panic overtook the inexperienced crew, who frantically hurled boxes of food, crates, clothing, and even sled dogs onto the ice. Supplies smashed upon impact or slid immediately into open water as the men raced against time. Out of everything aboard, they managed to save two whaleboats and three lifeboats, but much of the food, equipment, timber, and coal was irretrievably lost, along with the means to construct a winter shelter or survive for long. Some dogs survived but scattered into the icy expanse. Only 37 men made it off the vessel and gathered onto the ice floes in a chaotic, desperate scene.

A ...

Greeley Left Fort Conger On August 9, 1883, Advancing the Evacuation Date by Almost A Month

Greeley Believed Waiting Until September 1 Would Be too Late For Navigating To Littleton Island Due to Thickening Sea Ice

After nearly two years in the Arctic, Lieutenant Greeley determined that the original plan to wait until September 1 to evacuate Fort Conger was too risky. He believed that by then, the sea ice would become too thick for their small boats to navigate safely. Anticipating that delay would doom their chances, Greeley advanced the evacuation date to August 9, 1883, hoping to reach Littleton Island before worsening ice conditions made travel impossible.

Kislingberry Opposes Greeley's Retreat, Prefers Staying At Fort Conger

Not everyone agreed with Greeley’s decision to retreat. Kislingberry voiced that it was safer to remain at Fort Conger, reasoning they still had food and shelter and could survive another winter.

Pavie Backed Kislingberry, Saying Wintering At Fort Conger Was Safer Than Risking a Retreat South With Uncertain Supply Status at Littleton Island

Dr. Octave Pavie supported Kislingberry’s stance, arguing the risk associated with supplies at Littleton Island made retreat foolhardy compared to the relative security of Fort Conger for another winter.

Retreat Preparations: Choosing Supplies and Equipment For Boat Space

Facing the challenge of leaving, the men had to bring only the essentials needed for survival and to document their scientific achievements. Greeley strictly limited each member to eight pounds of personal belongings, making the load manageable for hauling boats over ice and minimizing weight. Lieutenant James Lockwood, the lead scientist, painstakingly organized their plant, animal, and fossil specimens, but ultimately most of these had to be abandoned due to lack of space. Priority was given to carefully packing scientific records into waterproof crates. The team patched up winter clothes and ensured their three small boats and the coal-powered steam launch were in good working condition. All the while, they harbored hope that the relief ship might still arrive before their departure.

Ice Conditions Shifted, Creating Dramatic Evacuation Timing

Two Days Before Departure:

Two days before the planned retreat, Sergeant David Brainard reported that the bay was filled with dense, impassable ice, effectively trapping the team. The situation did not improve the following day, making both boating and walking across the weak August ice equally dangerous. Then, in a dramatic turn, strong southern winds blew for twenty-four hours, clearing the bay enough by the morning of Aug ...