'Shackleton was very tactful and very genial,' Brocklehurst added. 'He had a faculty for treating each member of the expedition as though he were valuable to it. He made us feel more important than we could have been.'
This ability to communicate with each man helped keep the party relatively happy and focused. One of Shackleton's strengths was his gift for delegation, perhaps nowhere better shown than in a project in which he was trying to go one better than Scott. Shackleton had edited The South Polar Times, but, he decided, the members of his expedition would publish an entire book.
The printers Joseph Causton & Sons were intrigued by Shackleton's idea, and they lent him a printing press, a small lithographic press for etching, ink, type and high-quality paper. They also gave instruction in typesetting and printing to Joyce and Wild and taught Marston the basics of print etching and lithography. Although Shackleton styled himself editor-in-chief of what was first called Antarctic Ice-Flowers, the project was primarily carried out by Joyce, Wild, Marston and Day. The final publication, named Aurora Australis, featured ten written contributions - including two by Shackleton - and was dedicated to Elizabeth Dawson-Lambton and her sister.
As Murray and Marston later described, the production of the books was a nightmare:
Dust from the stove fills the air and settles on the paper as it is being printed . . . If anything falls on the floor it is done for; if somebody jogs the compositor's elbow as he is setting up matter, and upsets the type into the mire, I can only leave the reader to imagine the result.
The temperature varies; it is too cold to keep the printer's ink fluid; it gets sticky and freezes. To cope with this a candle was set burning underneath the plate on which the ink was. This was alright but it made the ink too fluid, and the temperature had to be regulated by moving the candle about. Once the printers were called away while the candle was burning . . . When they returned they found that the plate had overheated and had melted the inking roller . . . it was the only one on the Continent and had to be recast . . . So much for the ordinary printing. The lithography was still worse.
When the entire book had been printed, Day took over. He carefully sanded down Venesta boards for covers, joined them with a leather spine and then attached the pages to the hinges with silk cord. Between ninety and a hundred copies were produced.
Shackleton also used other tactics to keep up spirits throughout the winter. He encouraged birthday or other parties, initiated debate and discussion at dinner, actively carried out his full share of the work and showed himself to be appreciative. In helping avoid friction and antagonism, he was aided immensely by David, who, although not nominally second-in-command, was psychologically so. The Prof was the great peacemaker, taking charge to help side-step damaging incidents. He also kept the men positive by his very nature and daily actions.
'To read a few thermometers in a screen a few yards away from the hut, in a blizzard, was quite an undertaking,' Day wrote, adding:
Returning from one of these journeys, in a blizzard outfit including fur mitts (for the fear of frost-bite was ever with the ordinary man), I was nearing the hut, head down, when I almost collided with the Professor who had been on duty in the stables. He had no mitts on, and with his bare hands opened the door, and held it for me to pass in first, saying 'After you, Day.'
It might seem a little thing, but it was not. Nor was a weeks-long effort David made after returning from Erebus. Wanting those who had not made the trek up the volcano not to miss out, he laboriously sorted, catalogued and labelled numerous rocks collected from the summit so that each member of the expedition might have his own set.
Even in the least popular job of all, David shone. Once every two weeks, on a rotating basis, each of the party served as messman. This consisted of bringing in bags of coal and strips of blubber for the fire; providing enough ice for cooking, washing, drinking and the ponies; keeping the common part of the hut clean; pulling the table down and laying it for three meals a day; assisting Roberts to pass out the food; and washing up after each meal. As always, David was slow but thorough. 'Volunteers have been known to assist in getting grease off the plates and in drying them,' Priestley wrote. 'It was a sight for the gods to see a well-known FRS, drying a wet plate with a wetter cloth, and looking ruefully at the islands of grease remaining, after he has spent five minutes hard work on it.'
Clearly the entire expedition benefited from David's presence. The Boss, in turn, rewarded the Professor by giving him unlimited control of the scientific programme. Of course, Shackleton had little interest in science, but he knew success on that front would bring additional kudos. Plus he had assembled a powerful scientific team almost despite himself. In fact, the scientific success of Shackleton's party has long been overlooked due to the adventurous image of its leader. However, the reality is that the expedition compiled a vast supply of significant scientific data, starting with that brought back from the heights of Mount Erebus.
To Shackleton, an even more important aspect of the conquest of Erebus was the successful combination of David, Mawson and Mackay. It likely soon set him to thinking that the three would form the party attempting to reach the South Magnetic Pole. Although the attainment of that site was a major geographical goal, much of the work would be of a scientific nature, so David and Mawson seemed natural. Mackay also had biological training, and would give the party medical support in case of emergency.
The composition of the party for the southern journey was much less certain, in part due to problems that had arisen on Erebus. From the beginning, Shackleton had promised Brocklehurst that he would be a member of the six-man Southern Party. But the baronet's toes did not improve. In April, after one of the large ones showed signs of gangrene, Marshall amputated it, preserving it in a small vial.
In the aftermath of the surgery, Shackleton gave his room to Brocklehurst, and moved into the cubicle with Armytage. His goals were not only to allow Brocklehurst to recover comfortably, but to take the chance to influence the depressed Armytage. Early on, Shackleton had written to Emily that he was a 'splendid man obedient reliable ready for any work . . . Gets on with all extremely popular because he is a man of the world and knows the ways of younger men. He was the ist to make the English section reconsider their attitude to Australians.' But since then, Armytage had shown little ability to be part of the team, and his despondency had not been viewed positively. 'Shackleton had a good talk with "What what",' Marshall wrote, applying the unpleasant nickname he had given to the older man due to his habit of frequently using that expression. 'Told him that it must be his own fault that he cannot get on with the men as the remaining 14 can.' A week later Marshall continued, 'Armytage still in extraordinary sulky mood. Everyone else getting on Ai,' But Shackleton seems to have had some temporary success, as Marshall later noted that the Australian 'has certainly improved and taken over sole charge of the ponies.'
Shackleton's attempts to raise Armytage's spirits exhibited two parts of his own basic temperament. First, he cared deeply for and took great interest in his men. Not long after the beginning of winter, Murray's
health required him to be confined to the hut, so Priestley was given charge of the dredging. Priestley later recalled that the work required he go out all day, with a packed lunch, and only return home for the evening meal. Shackleton, he found, would often visit him. 'He used to come along and dig and yarn and sing and after a couple of hours he'd go away,' remembered Priestley. 'He was the only chap who came down and helped normally, was Shackleton.'
Second, Shackleton was a natural optimist who felt he could achieve anything. His letters to Emily telling her they would reach the Pole were an indication of his confident, positive personality. He also had the ability to inspire in most his presumption of success, which meant that when he asked them to take on tasks they might normally have thought impossible, they felt capable of doing so. Optimism, inspiration and honest regard for them gave him a strong hold over his men. Or at least most of them.
There was still one man that Shackleton could not win over, although it was not outwardly obvious. Marshall remained as negative as ever. 'By Gd he has not played the game & is not capable of doing so & a consummate liar & a practised hypocrite,' he wailed in his diary after returning from Erebus. 'By God I have been a damned fool to trust him. He is incapable of a decent action or thought.' The next day Marshall was still unforgiving: 'Shall get my own back before I have finished.'
It was not only Shackleton with whom Marshall was unhappy. Perhaps under his cold, unreadable exterior the doctor was not adjusting well to the strange combination of isolation and stifling immediacy. Perhaps it was the difference he had found between his romantic image of exploration and its reality. Or perhaps he was simply a misery guts. Regardless, his diary is a litany of negatives. Brocklehurst, he unfeelingly wrote in mid-April when the foot was not healing well, was 'very down, seems to have no guts'. A month later, it was, 'Just seen Pro's account of Erebus. Parts quite misleading. Especially of our party.' And following the midwinter party he seethed that Wild 'showed signs of being drunk . . . Was seriously thinking of getting him outside to give me a hand with the ponies & then giving him a damn good hammering, as he was becoming very talkative and objectionable.'
Most of Marshall's venom, however, was reserved for Shackleton, whose crimes included kicking the dogs and not holding regular church services. 'Sunday but no service,' Marshall wrote on 14 June. 'It being fine weather Sh thinks it unnecessary to beseech the help of the Almighty.'
It is one of those strange twists of fate that at the very time Marshall became increasingly recalcitrant, his significance as an adviser to Shackleton increased dramatically. His input was twofold: the food supplies for the southern journey, and who would be hauling them.
Before he left Britain, Marshall had investigated the current knowledge of scurvy, but had found there was little agreement as to its cause. The ptomaine theory was still widely accepted, but a new theory also held sway. Supported by Sir Almroth Wright, this indicated the disease was a condition of acid intoxication due to an increased acidity in the blood. Marshall believed in neither of these views, but accepted the 'fresh food' theory. This was not a casual decision, but one made after extensive study, which a paper in The British Medical Journal by Edward Wilson supported. Wilson - who had initially held to the ptomaine theory - noted that scurvy had disappeared after the party began to eat fresh seal meat 'for breakfast, as well as dinner, six days in every week'.
Marshall's view was also strongly upheld by what has been called 'the most important single paper in the whole history of this subject'. Published by Axel Hoist, the professor of hygiene and bacteriology at the University of Christiania, in Norway, and Theodore Frolich, a Norwegian paediatrician, it showed scurvy to be a deficiency disease that 'could be produced by diet and . . . cured by diet. Of the three theories of scurvy then existing, infection, toxication, and faulty diet, only the last was supported by their findings.' However, as this paper appeared in the Journal of Hygiene only in October 1907, the month that Marshall left England on Runic, it is uncertain whether he saw it before the expedition.
Like his surgeon, Shackleton placed great importance on the expedition's food, not just to serve as a preventative for scurvy, but for psychological reasons. Later explorers who used the supplies left behind were amazed at their lavishness. The stores included large amounts of bottled or tinned fruit and jams and preservatives - much of which was purchased in New Zealand - as well as other products that provided high levels of nutrition and vitamin C. These included Glaxo dried milk and milk powder; plasmon biscuits, made with fortified milk protein; and New Zealand butter, cheese and vegetables. These all helped in the fight against scurvy, as did Marshall's plan to 'prime' the sledge parties, the members of which would receive extra fresh meat - lightly cooked penguin or seal - every day for a month before departing.
The only question left was who would be going on those sledge journeys. For the Magnetic Pole, the choice remained David, Mawson and Mackay. However, due to the loss of all but four ponies, the Southern Party would be cut to four men. By the middle of winter it was obvious that Brocklehurst's foot would not allow him to participate on the long journey, and at the end of July Shackleton informed him he would not be coming. Instead, Brocklehurst would join Armytage and Priestley on a geology field trip to the western mountains.
The other casualty from the original plan would eventually be Joyce, whom Marshall failed medically for a variety of reasons. Joyce showed, he noted, a liver problem and the beginning of heart disease, 'a myocarditis in a very early stage'. Marshall also felt that Joyce would be dangerous to take because he considered him mentally limited, resentful and incompatible with the others; for two of these, one might wonder if the doctor had been looking into a mirror. Regardless, Marshall stuck by his decision, and more than forty years later wrote that he had 'ploughed him for the "Southern Journey" and if I had not done so we should have had the same experience as Scott had with P.O. Evans on the glacier.'
Marshall was not positive about Adams either - T saw much on Erebus to make me doubt his nerve and judgement,' he wrote mysteriously in late June. Never the less, he passed him physically. With Wild there was never any question, as Marshall regarded him as the fittest in the party. Finally, there was Shackleton. 'Pulm[onary] Systolic murmur still present', Marshall noted in his diary about Shackleton five weeks after he first examined him. What did it mean? Was it what had caused Shackleton's 'asthma' - the term The Boss used for the condition he had experienced on his return from the farthest south with Scott? Was it something that had been exacerbated by the scurvy? Would it prove problematic this time? Neither doctor nor patient knew for certain, and neither was comfortable with the fact. Marshall passed his chief for the southern journey, but realised he would have to be constantly on the lookout for problems. Shackleton, too, may have inwardly doubted his powerful physique, but he had no questions about his strength of will.
By the beginning of August, everyone was ready for action. In Mackay's case, too ready. Early in the morning on the third, Roberts, with whom he shared a cubicle, put his feet on Mackay's locker to lace up his boots. Mackay's tightly wound disposition unravelled. 'Aroused by expostulations of Bobs whom Mac had gripped by the throat in a more than friendly manner,' Marshall recorded. The situation might have become more disagreeable had not Mawson intervened with Mackay: 'choked him off and turned him back to bed.'
As Priestley pointed out, it was fortunate that it was the end of winter rather than the beginning. The men had been indoors too long, and they all needed to focus their attention on the real work of the expedition. So, despite the sun having not yet returned, Shackleton decided it was time they 'received a good baptism of frost'.
Shackleton did not intend for the Southern Party to leave until the end of October. But McMurdo Sound was frozen over, so that gave him two months to lay the depots that should have been put out the previous autumn. Since it was too cold to use the ponies, he had plenty of time to break his men into the true horrors of man-hauling.
On 12 August Shackleton left with David and Armytage for Hut Point. The pony Quan pulled the sledge until they neared Cape Barne, but then returned with a support party, while the three men donned their harnesses. On the morning of 14 August they reached the hut. The next morning they pushed a dozen miles out on the Barrier, finding many patches of soft snow, which confirmed, to their disappointment, that the motor-car would be ineffective there. By 6.00 p.m. the temperature had crashed to —5 6° and was still dropping. An appallingly miserable night was followed in the morning by the threat of a blizzard, so they headed north, reaching Hut Point only shortly before the gale did. For the next five days they cleaned and ordered the hut, while waiting for the terrible weather to break. On 22 August, when the sun finally appeared above the horizon, they marched all the way back to Cape Royds.
Shackleton now began a programme whereby each week different parties hauled
supplies to Hut Point. Not only did this turn the hut into an advance base, it blooded all the polar newcomers to the realities of the season ahead. It also woke some of them up to aspects of life with which they had been blissfully unfamiliar. 'A curious reflection of my "Victorian" upbringing as a non-swearing, teetotaller Wesleyan Methodist is the absence of any mention of one of the circumstances which etched this sledge journey deeply in my memory,' Priestley wrote fifty years later, having reread his diary's account of his second depot trip, on which he travelled with Adams and Mackay. 'For three days we marched to a monotonous repetition of blasphemy every few steps from Adams, his favourite being "Jesus f . . . g God Almighty!"'
Each party came back with stories to tell of cold, adventure, misery and more cold. Never the less, by late September, having had tenuous help from the motor-car, they had stocked the Discovery hut with provisions and food for the ninety-one days Shackleton planned for the Southern Party to be in the field. There was also a supply of ten pounds per day per pony of a combination of maize, Maujee ration and compressed fodder.
The last great preparatory trip began on 22 September, when Shackleton, Adams, Marshall, Wild, Joyce and Marston left Cape Royds to establish the one depot out on the Barrier. On the first stage of the actual southern journey, Shackleton planned to steer much farther to the east than Scott had done, thereby avoiding the broken, crevassed ice they had encountered six years before. This meant that in the barren expanse of the snow-covered Barrier, there would be no particular landmarks to guide them to the depot, which Shackleton decided would be one hundred geographic miles south of Hut Point. The potential difficulty in finding the depot meant they did not want to leave there any provisions necessary for their own existence. So, as they left for the south, with a load of 170 pounds per man, they were actually pulling not their own supplies, but pony rations.
Shackleton’s Forgotten Expedition Page 24