CHAPTER I
A TRUNKFUL OF LETTERS
I AM eighty-seven years oldāthe lone survivor of the famous saga of the Jeannette. The world may have forgotten it, but I have not. The events of sixty years ago are as vivid to me as though they had happened yesterday. That long period has not dimmed the recollection of my husband, who gave his life for Arctic exploration while I waited vainly at home for him to come back.
Many books have been written about the courageous struggles of brave men to conquer the North, but there are few indeed which tell of these struggles as they were lived by the wives and children of the heroes, who stayed at home and waited. It is this lack which I shall try to repair.
During the winter of 1932 Vilhjalmur Stefansson asked me to lend some of the relics of the Jeannette Expedition, commanded by my husband, to Mr. Bassett Jones of the Explorers Club. Mr. Jones was organizing a private exhibition of Arctic books and relics at the Grolier Club in New York. I had such things aplenty, of course, and gladly complied. Among those chosen were the large journal written by my husband on board the Jeannette up to the time of her crushing by the ice pack, the two ice journals in pencil, which faithfully recorded his fearful trip southward with his men to Siberia across the ice, and a silk flag which I had made as my contribution to the Expedition.
The exhibition was a great success and brought together many people who had been concerned with the Arctic, among them Mrs. Robert E. Peary, whom I had always admired but had never before met. A few weeks later I invited about twenty of the group to my house for tea, and there the talk turned largely on an old clipping I had which told of a tattered section of chart found on Commander De Longās body.
Mr. Stefansson and the others were much interested, and more than ever when I found that I had a portion of the chart, too. My husband had carried it, rather than the full sized map, to guide him southward on the Lena Delta.
When I mentioned that I had in my cellar a trunkful of letters which dealt with those years of preparation and consummation of the Jeannette Expedition, Mr. Stefansson urged me to get them out and re-read them. He was confident that there was a story in them and that I ought to write it. Not the story of the Expedition itself, for I had long ago compiled and published that, but the story of myselfāthe girl who stayed behind and waited for the heroās return.
At first I was a little staggered. I had not seen those letters for fifty years and I dreaded to go through them. But I am happy that I did; they have taken me back to those days of my girlhood; they have re-created the excitement, the passionate enthusiasm, the tragedy of those years. They have made me fall in love with my husband all over again.
And, because I think they have a story to tell that has not been told before, I am presenting them now.
CHAPTER II
GEORGE WASHINGTON DE LONG
GEORGE WASHINGTON DE LONG came into my life as a dashing young Naval officer in the year 1868 when I was only seventeen years old. Within a single week of our first meeting he had proposed to me, declaring that I was the only girl in the world he could ever love. I reasoned with him.
But that made little difference to Mr. De Long. He was an adventurous spirit by nature and was forever seeking and conquering new territory. When his gaze fell upon me he instantly decided that he wanted me. The conquest followed as a matter of course.
However, it did not follow immediately. I refused to become engaged to him. There followed a ātest periodā which lasted for two years and nearly killed my future husband. Waiting was one thing George could not do with a good grace. Yet in this instance he had to do it, most of it thousands of miles away from me in South America. I had as strong a will as he and was not to be swept off my feet. Yet I can say with complete truth that we never once quarreled and that I came to love him devotedly after we were married.
George could never adjust himself to the fact that I could not or would not make up my mind as fast as he did. So, for those two years he was miserable; finally so miserable that I had not the heart to say no any longer. The ātestā had proved a success, however, for it showed me beyond doubt that he had meant what he said and that I was indeed the only woman who could make him happy.
After we were married I naturally set about discovering what sort of man I had given myself to. When I asked George about his past history he smiled and told me his story. I still remember it so vividly and it shows so clearly the sort of influences that young men of that day were subjected to that I shall give it here as faithfully as I can.
āI was born in New York City August the twenty-second, eighteen forty-four,ā he said. āI was an only child and my early training was very restricted. My mother so idolized me that she would not allow me to participate in any boyish sports such as boating, skating and swimming, lest some accident and injury might befall me.
āIn eighteen forty-eight my parents moved to Brooklyn and at the age of five years I was sent to school, but with strict injunctions to return home the moment my studies were over, thus preventing me from mingling with other boys. My principal playmate was a little girl cousin younger than myself, adopted and brought up by my parents.
āMy father was a Presbyterian and my mother a Roman Catholic. I was christened in the Catholic Church and taken regularly by her to the services. When about five years old my father thought it time for me to be taken to a Protestant church, so one Sunday morning he and I started out together in a very happy frame of mind. When we entered the staid and simple Presbyterian church, so unlike the gay and decorative church of Rome, I became restless, and when the clergyman suddenly made his appearance from behind the plain pulpit I was frightened and began screaming. My father tried to quiet me but without avail, so finally we both left the church, my father in high dudgeon at his sonās perversity. We walked along for a block or two without exchanging any words, but when we came to a large wooden pump standing on a street corner, my father put one foot on the platform of the pump, placed me across his knee and spanked me then and there. After this experience he interfered no more with my religion.
āIn my studies I was thorough and proficient, always striving to be at the head of my class. I was full of spirit and energy, possessed of a strong will, not easily discouraged or daunted; on the contrary, the more obstacles thrown in my way the more eager and determined I was to overcome them.
āIn eighteen fifty-seven I was selected from the Public School in Brooklyn for an appointment at the Naval Academy; but my parents objected to my accepting the appointment and I had to give it up. I then thought of preparing for the Free Academy (now the College of the City of New York), when an accident occurred that changed my plans. On my way home from school some boys who were annoyed at my not associating with them began throwing snowballs at me, and one, a very hard, icy ball, struck me in the ear. Although upon my reaching home it was attended to, still the ear remained painful and finally gathered, some pieces of ice having lodged inside.
āFor two or three months I was obliged to remain at home under the doctorās care and my mother discussed with me my future career. She wished me to be either a doctor, a priest or a lawyer. I thought I would like to be a doctor but before deciding would prefer having some insight into a doctorās profession, so I engaged myself with my friend the doctor who had been treating me, and remained with him several months.
āAfter a little while (and witnessing operations), I found I was in no way adapted to that calling and returned home. My mother was disappointed but when I explained to her the risks I would have to run among the sick she willingly abandoned the idea and wished me to become a priest. This did not suit me either and again I laid before her the privations and hardships of a priestās life, ministering to the sick and dying, risking the dangers of exposure to disease. Her motherās heart feared all these trials for her son and I easily persuaded her out of that idea.
āI now had plenty of time on my hands and, being very fond of reading, spent whole days at the Mercantile Library. The Librarian and I became friends and at times I would assist him in his duties. When he left I obtained his position and held it for several months. Here my uncontrollable desire for adventure was increased by miscellaneous reading. Marryatās novels made me yearn for a seafaring life and reawakened my old desire to enter the Navy. My family would not hear of it and now desired me to become a lawyer. I therefore gave up my position at the library and entered the law office of the Honorable John Oakey, who soon became my friend and adviser and entrusted the care of his office to me whilst away. When the Civil War broke out, Mr. Oakey volunteered to defend the Union and, I believe, raised a regiment. I was very desirous to accompany him and begged and entreated my parents to give their consent. I asked Mr. Oakey to plead for me and he did so, telling my parents that a little rough experience would curb my restless and ambitious spirit, making me on my return satisfied to remain at home for the rest of my days. But no, my parents would not consent.
āThen my whole heart and mind became concentrated upon entering the Navy. I begged my father to help me obtain an appointment to Annapolis, but again I was refused. I was so full of ambition and patriotism that it was actual pain to me to stay at home, looking out for a law office when I felt my country was in danger and needed my help. At last I said to my father:
ā āI want to go to the Naval Academy. If I obtain an appointment to it myself, will you give your consent?ā
āMy father laughed.
ā āVery well,ā he said, āif you can accomplish all this alone I will make no further objection.ā And my mother promised me the same.
āOverjoyed with this slight encouragement, I went to Mr. Oakey and begged him to use all his influence in my behalf. He promised to do so. I then wrote to the Navy Department, asking if there were any vacancy at the Academy to be filled by an appointment from the Third Congressional District of New York. The answer came that there was none. Mr. Oakey then went to Congressman Benjamin Wood and asked him to appoint me to the Academy. Mr. Wood said that unfortunately he had already made an appointment and could not make another. But he promised that if a vacancy should occur within his power to fill, I should have it.
āOne morning Mr. Oakey found me at the office in a great state of excitement. I had just learned that the cadet appointed by Benjamin Wood had resigned from the Academy because of bad eyesight. There was the vacancy; Ben Wood named me to fill it. I presented myself at the Academy at once and had passed a creditable examination when a dispatch came from Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy, saying:
ā āDo not accept Mr. Woodās appointee for the Navy.ā
āIn a very unhappy frame of mind I rushed to Mr. Wood to tell him the state of affairs, but he had already accepted the situation and saw nothing further to be done. But I could not give up my life dream so easily. I reasoned with Mr. Wood, telling him that he was imposed upon, that it was because he was a Democrat (and suspected of secession principles) that the Government was depriving him of his rights. Finally Ben Wood said:
ā āYou sit down, Mr. De Long, and write what you want to. I will sign the letter and you can take it to Washington and present it yourself.ā
āThis I did without delay. The trip was a tedious one, as troops were being moved and the cars were crowded. I stood up all the way from Philadelphia to Washington. Arriving there at six A. M., I waited impatiently for the proper time to present myself to the Department. Finally the great moment arrived and I was shown into the Secretaryās room; there sat Gideon Welles. I stepped forward and presented my letter. I still remember the surprised expression that passed over the countenance of the old gentleman as he read that wonderful epistle. When he had finished it he pushed his spectacles up on his forehead and looked at me.
ā āWell, well, this is a very strange state of affairs. Please tell Mr. Wood he is laboring under some mistaken impression. We have no intention of slighting him in any way. You can return to the Academy. I will give the necessary orders for your reception there. And please say to Mr. Wood that he shall not be deprived of even his imaginary rights.ā
āSatisfied and happy, I now returned to Newport where the Academy then was and commenced my Naval career. I was in my proper element at last and devoted myself to study and the acquisition of professional knowledge. In 1865 I graduated from the Academy, too late of course to take any part in the War.
āOn November fifteenth I was ordered to proceed to Boston and report to Admiral Stringham for duty on board the U.S.S. Canandaigua. When I arrived there I immediately repaired to my vessel to inspect my quarters. I looked all over the ship and finally entered the steerage, my future home for the coming three years. I inspected it very thoroughly and found that there were but two berths in it, whereas it was to be occupied by four midshipmen. Two would have to swing in hammocks. To me this seemed altogether wrong; each midshipman should have his own bunk. So I decided to go see the Admiral about it and have the matter set right. On my way through the Navy Yard I met some officers who asked me where I was going. When I told them my purpose they said:
ā āThatās right; the thing should be attended to. Just speak to the Admiral about it and youāll get what you want.ā
āI was shown into the office of Admiral Stringham, who was sitting erect at his desk, making a striking picture with his white hair and sharp black eyes. Advancing toward him, cap in hand, I said:
ā āAdmiral, I am Midshipman De Long of the U.S.S. Canandaigua. Sir, I have been inspecting my quarters on board and I find only two bunks in the steerage for four midshipmen. I came, Sir, to ask you to have two more berths put in before we start.ā
āThe Admiral looked up quickly and said: āSo you are Midshipman De Long of the U.S.S. Canandaigua?ā
ā āYes, Sir.ā
ā āWell, Midshipman De Long of the U.S.S. Canandaigua, I advise you to return on board the U.S.S. Canandaigua and consider yourself very lucky that you have any bunks at all in the steerage.ā
āThe Admiral, however, proved better than his word and ordered the much desired berths placed in the midshipmenās quarters.ā
That was the youth George Washington De Long. Even in those days he got what he wanted because he dared to ask for it. It was a trait that stood him in good stead all his life. Admiral Stringham never forgot Mr. De Long, and recognized him years afterward in an accidental meeting. They had a good laugh over the bunks on the Canandaigua. The Admiral was then over eighty years old.
CHAPTER III
MYSELF
MY FATHER, James Avery Wotton, was a sea captain who had been for many years in the employ of the New York and Havre Steamship Company in command of passenger vessels plying between the United States and France. He was also a part owner in the company. When he was thirteen he had run away to sea and by the time he was twenty-one he was known as āCaptain Jimmie,ā for he was already the master of a ship.
In 1840, wh...