This book is dedicated to Gary Gregor whose knowledge about Edgar Evans and whose enthusiasm for the work has been a constant source of encouragement

Front cover photograph: Edgar Evans dressed for exploration. (Courtesy of Scott Polar Research Institute – SPRI)

Contents

Acknowledgements

Introduction

  1 The Gower Peninsula: Early Life

  2 The Boy Sailor: Naval Training

  3 The Discovery Expedition

  4 From England to South Africa

  5 The Southern Ocean to Antarctica

  6 Early Months in Antarctica: February to September 1902

  7 The Antarctic Spring: September to October 1902

  8 The Antarctic Summer: October 1902 to January 1903

  9 The End of the Discovery Expedition, 1903–04

10 Return from Antarctica, then Home Again, 1904–10

11 Terra Nova

12 The First Western Party

13 The Winter Months, 1911

14 The Polar Assault

15 The Aftermath

16 Why Did Edgar Die First?

      Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Dr David Wilson, the great-nephew of Dr Edward Wilson, Scott’s confidant and friend, has been a remarkable source of friendship, encouragement and advice throughout the work. My colleagues, Dr John Millard, Dr Howell Lloyd and Dr Aileen Adams, have diligently read the work and offered helpful comments, as has Mrs Jackie McDowell.

Professor Stuart Malin has patiently guided me through the intricacies of longitude and latitude. Lieutenant Commander Brian Witts, Curator of HMS Excellent Museum, Portsmouth, assisted me with details of the field gun run competition at Olympia. I am greatly indebted to these colleagues and friends. I accept responsibility for any misunderstandings or omissions.

The assistance of the staff at the Scott Polar Research Institute, The Naval Museum at Portsmouth and the Swansea Library has been greatly appreciated; all have been unfailingly courteous, helpful and enthusiastic.

Alison Stockton and James Oram, a Classics Undergraduate at Durham University, have patiently proofread the work and I am grateful for their help.

I have to thank Professor Julian Dowdeswell, Director of the Scott Polar Institute, for permission to publish extracts from those manuscripts over which the Institute has rights, also the Debenham, Shackleton, Skelton and Scott families for kind permission to quote from family papers. The Auckland Institute and Museum of New Zealand have allowed me to quote from Charles Ford’s journals as have the Dundee Art Galleries and Museums in relation to James Duncan’s papers. Mr John Evans, Edgar’s grandson, has allowed me to quote from Edgar’s sledging journal. Every reasonable effort has been made to trace copyright holders; any omissions or mistakes will be inserted into subsequent editions of this work.

Finally, my thanks must go to my husband, Dr David Williams, whose assistance and help made this work possible.

Introduction

Saturday 17 February 1912, Antarctica.

A man crawls helplessly on the icy snow, his clothes are torn open, his skis are off, his gloves and boots lie discarded on the snow, bandages trail from his frostbitten fingers.

He dimly sees four images coming towards him, but in his confusion he cannot work out what is happening. When his companions arrive he can hardly speak. He can barely stand and after a hopeless attempt at walking he falls back onto the snow. Three of his exhausted rescuers plod back wearily to the camp for a sledge.

They lay him on the sledge and struggle to pull him over the snowy waste. On the way he loses consciousness. He is never to be aware of his surroundings again. In the tent, as his companions watch, his breathing becomes irregular and shallow; he dies quietly at 10 p.m.¹

So ended the life of Edgar Evans, the ‘Welsh Giant’ from Middleton in South Wales, a man who contributed hugely to Antarctic exploration, a Petty Officer who had built a relationship with his leader, Robert Falcon Scott, that transcended the barriers of class, rank and education. Theirs was a loyalty that had been built over long periods of interdependence as they endured the horrors of prolonged man-hauling at sub-zero temperatures in Antarctica.

Scott wrote that Edgar was a ‘giant worker with a truly remarkable head piece’,² that Edgar was ‘hard and sound’ on a trek and had an ‘inexhaustible supply of anecdotes’.³ He chose Edgar as one of the five to go to the Pole.

Edgar died on the return, overcome by circumstances so awful that his four companions were soon to join him in icy tombs in Antarctica.

This is Edgar Evans’ story.

Notes

1  Ed. King, H.G.R., Edward Wilson Diary of the Terra Nova Expedition to the Antarctic 1910–1912, Blandford Press, London, 1972, p. 243.

2  Ed. Jones, M. Robert Falcon Scott Journals Scott’s Last Expedition, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2005, p. 369.

3  Ibid., p. 303.

1

The Gower Peninsula: Early Life

Edgar Evans came from the Gower Peninsula in South Wales. Jutting into the Bristol Channel and open to the Atlantic gales, Gower is a place of outstanding natural beauty, a location that attracts visitors to its shores year after year. It boasts other famous attractions: in one of its coastal caves, the Paviland Cave, the oldest human skeleton in the British Isles was discovered – the ‘Red Lady of Paviland’¹ (actually male remains) is tens of thousands of years old.

It would have been a remarkable astrologer who foretold fame for Edgar Evans when he was born on 7 March 1876 in Middleton Hall Cottage, Middleton – a village in Rhossili and one of the remote parishes on the peninsula. Edgar’s mother, Sarah, had moved to Middleton Cottage, her sister’s home, for her confinement.

This was a modest family. Their roots were firmly in Gower. Evans’ paternal grandfather, Thomas, and three previous generations of his family, came from the peninsula. Thomas was employed in a local limestone quarry (limestone was shipped across the Bristol Channel to fertilise the fields of north Devon). Thomas’ son, Charles (1839–1907), the father of Edgar Evans, was one of the famous ‘Cape Horners’, hardy seamen who sailed from Europe around Cape Horn to the west coast of America, a journey that could last six months.

The ‘Cape Horn’ trade grew because Swansea was then the world centre for smelting copper, essential in industry, construction and ship-building (the copper covering on ships’ hulls prevented the wood from rotting and made the vessels faster).

There were copper works in Swansea from as early as 1717. Approximately 2 tons of coal was necessary to smelt 1 ton of copper, and since South Wales was rich in coal, copper was brought to Swansea rather than coal being taken to the copper sources. When British ore was worked out, copper mines further afield were sought and Cuba and South American countries, particularly Chile, were used. These voyages to South America, in coal-carrying sailing ships, were hazardous undertakings. Life at sea was brutal and unforgiving. Off the Horn, with ‘winds at full-gale strength, waves as high as the maintops, sometimes hail and then snow coming down thick, clouds so low they enfold the mastheads, spume and sky indistinguishable’,² forward progress was often impossible, some days the ship was set back by miles. Sometimes the voyage lasted four months, often much longer and many men died on the ‘widow-making’ passage. Added to the physical horrors of the crossing was the ever-lurking possibility of spontaneous combustion of the coal, likely to be disastrous in wooden ships and more probable if the coal was damp. After managing to survive the voyage, the sailors still had to contend with the perils of disease in South American ports. And then, having endured all that, the sailors faced the daunting prospect of the return journey. Years later, one of Edgar’s companions in the Antarctic wrote that only those who had had the experience could realise what it meant: handling frozen sails in the dark, short handed … and ‘so cold that the chocks (fittings for securing the ropes) have to be thawed with hot water before a rope will run through them’.³

But Charles Evans pursued this trade until he was in his mid-30s, well after the time he married and had children. In 1862, when he was 23, Charles, described as ‘Mariner, son of Thomas Evans, Quarryman’, married Sarah Beynon in St Mary’s church, in the village of Rhossili. Rhossili is one of the many villages dotted over Gower. It had 294 residents⁴ and was connected to its closest neighbour by just a muddy lane. Sarah was a local girl, the daughter of William Beynon, the licensee of the Ship Inn in Middleton, and his wife, Ann. She was 22 at the time of her marriage and her family had held the licence for the Ship Inn for most of the nineteenth century.

The ceremony was performed by the Reverend John Ponsonby Lucas BA, MA, an Oxford graduate, who ministered to several of the local villages. St Mary’s, with its beautiful Norman doorway, remains an active, functioning church. For many years a plaque in the aisle wall has proudly commemorated the life of Charles and Sarah’s famous son, Edgar.

As was usual in Victorian households, the couple produced a large family – there were eight known children. Birth control was unknown in working class communities in the late 1800s, and a high birth rate was a type of insurance policy against an unsupported old age. Four of the children are listed in the 1871 census: Charles, 7; John, 4 (both described as scholars); Mary-Ann, 2; and Annie Jane aged 1. The gap of three years between Charles and John suggests an infant death. In 1874, another son, Arthur, was born, followed, in 1876, by Edgar. A seventh child, George, was born in 1878 and a sister, Eliza Jane, in 1879. In fact Sarah Evans gave birth to more than the eight children; in 1913, after Edgar’s death, she was interviewed by a local reporter, and exhibiting stoicism difficult to imagine nowadays, she said that she had buried nine of her twelve children, three having died from consumption.⁵

Mrs Sarah Evans registered the birth of her fourth son in the sub-district of Gower Western on 13 April 1876. The 7 March was recorded as the birth date and Mrs Evans, unable to write (as was common, even six years after compulsory education was introduced),⁶ recorded her mark with a cross.

Interestingly, when Edgar entered the navy in April 1891, his Certificate of Service states that his date of birth was 9 March. Probably, once the error was officially recorded, the Boy, 2nd Class, then aged 15 years and 37 (or 39) days, thought it more prudent to go along with the official record than to challenge it, and he never corrected the date, although he is likely to have been aware of his registered birth date. Years later, in 1911, he wrote in his diary on 9 March, when he was on a sortie, that it was the ‘first time he has spent his birthday sledging’.⁷

Edgar was born into a small, tight-knit community. In the pre-First World War era, many people stayed within a few miles of their birthplace for the whole of their lives, and there was a huge interconnection of families through marriage. Sarah Evans had family links with many people in her village as well as brothers and sisters, some of whom were still living at the Ship Inn. So Edgar was born into a ready-made network of uncles, aunts, grandparents and cousins, as well as the immediate family crowded into his family’s cottage, which housed up to four of his older brothers and sisters as well as the babies, George and Eliza Jane. In addition, his father added to the crush on his intermittent visits home.

He learnt to speak in English as Welsh was hardly ever heard on that part of the peninsula. There must have been some incomers in Gower over the years because the villagers spoke in the ‘Gower Dialect’. This dialect, now virtually forgotten, had evolved through the influence of settlers from south-west England.

As a little lad he kept well out of the way of the local dignitaries; when the doctor visited on horseback or, occasionally, driving his horse and trap which carried the brightly coloured bottles of medicine that could be prescribed for virtually every ailment (since many of the residents could not read they were thought to be particularly impressed by the colours), Edgar took care to avoid him. Likewise, the Rector was an important local man. The Evans family were definitely ‘Church’ rather than ‘Chapel’ (the place of worship for the local Methodists). It is surprising nowadays to read of the chasm that existed between the two in some parts of the country (reminiscent of the Catholic/Protestant divide in Northern Ireland), but in Gower the division was only a pale and peaceful reflection of those clashes. When the Reverend John Ponsonby Lucas had married Edgar’s parents, he gave a girl a lift in his pony and trap, a journey of about an hour, but he was forbidden to speak to her because he was of the established Church whilst she was a Nonconformist.

By the 1881 census the family had moved to Pitton, the next small hamlet east of Rhossili. As was usual, only the people actually in the house on the day the census was recorded were counted, and Mrs Evans, ‘Mariners Wife’, registered her four younger children, now including Edgar, aged 5, as ‘scholar’ at the village school at Middleton. Forster’s Elementary Education Act of 1870 had stipulated that all children between the ages of 5 and 12 were obliged to attend school. The thrust behind this act was the fear that Britain’s status in the world could be threatened by the lack of an efficient national education system. It was a move by no means universally welcomed; there were fears that education would make members of the labouring classes, such as the Evans family, ‘think’ and so become dissatisfied with their lot. The Church also had doubts; its support for the biblical story of creation (which implies, amongst other things, that we are born to the station that we are meant to remain in) resulted in reservations. Also, the Church was already the recipient of state money for educating the poor and was reluctant to relinquish this. But once the Act was law, children were educated perforce. Edgar would be at Standard 1. He learnt his letters from an elementary reading book by copying a line of writing, in ‘good, round, upward writing’, and later wrote a few common words from dictation. He did simple addition and subtraction (of not more than four figures), as well as learning his multiplication tables (up to 6). Strict instruction was given on how to hold a pen – in the right hand with the thumb nearly underneath and three fingers flat out on the top; if his teacher saw him with one of his fingers bent he would have been rewarded by a rap on the knuckles.⁸ Edgar certainly benefited from the education he was given before he left school at the age of 12. His writing in later years was clear and his prose concise. The only thing that seems to have escaped his attention is punctuation; sentences flow effortlessly and sometimes confusingly, one into another.

In 1883, when his father Charles was 44, the family moved their home again. By now Charles had left long-haul shipping and was employed on a boat The Sunlight, which was involved in local coastal work based in Swansea, so the Evans family moved to the town. Swansea was important; it was part of the nation’s ‘workshop of the world’ and also known as ‘Copperopolis’ because of the prominence of the copper trade. The family moved to Hoskin’s Place, Swansea. They would have lived in one of the thousands of identical ‘two up, two down’ little terraced houses, with a communal back yard and ‘privy’. It is not clear just how many of the family made the move to Swansea; only the four youngest are recorded as being in the house on the 1881 census, but it is unlikely that Edgar’s 13-year-old sister Mary Anne or 11-year-old Annie would have left home by 1883, so it is probable that seven or eight Evans members (at least) shared the overcrowded facilities. Life was not easy. When coal could be afforded, the downstairs room was warmed by a coal fire, which was an integral part of an iron oven. Food was scarce: homemade bread and pies, meat once a week if possible, and potatoes. Water was heated by the stove and a tin bath (decorously concealed behind a clotheshorse decked with washing for privacy), was used for the weekly or fortnightly baths. Three or four members of the family used the same water.

With its population of over 50,000, busy streets, horse traffic, pollution from the copper works and noise, the town must have come as a shock to the country children; a huge contrast to sparsely populated Rhossili. Young Edgar was enrolled at St Helen’s School, Vincent Street, Swansea and remained there until he was 13. The school had just been enlarged when 7-year-old Edgar enrolled as a pupil and, with its 250 pupils, it too must have seemed huge. The life of the school and the education it offered is described by N.L. Thomas in a centenary booklet, A Hundred Years in School, St Helen’s 1874–1974,⁹ which shows how very fortunate Edgar and his fellow pupils were to fall under the influence of an enlightened, humane headmaster, Mr Lewis Schleswick. This was an opportunity certainly not enjoyed by all Victorian children. Mr Schleswick’s service was stretched; he had a small staff, certified assistants, uncertified assistants and pupil teachers¹⁰ and, to keep the teaching standards as high as possible, he taught the pupil teachers each morning before school began. The school remains. It is proud of its famous old boy and has Edgar’s picture prominently displayed.

As the school year progressed, Edgar, no doubt with the other pupils, was tempted by those infrequent but exciting diversions which lightened the drab routine of the Victorian school room, and often (as the daily school roll recorded) cut school attendance dramatically. Many of the children had to work for their parents before and after school. By a young age they were accustomed to a life of repetitive monotony and any glamorous excitement must have been a glorious break. Such delights were visits by circuses to the St Helen’s area, the occasional fair, regattas at Mumbles and Swansea, Saint Patrick’s Day¹¹ celebrations (when school attendance was noticeably small) and, on occasion, processions. Once, after a Sunday school outing, over one hundred boys were absent. The reason given by the miscreants, according to Mr Schleswick, was that they were too tired to get to school.¹² Occasionally, however, absences were official. When General William Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, visited Swansea in 1883, the school was given a half-day holiday and when there was a large public procession in relation to the Blue Ribbon Movement,¹³ the boys were allowed time off to watch it. The headmaster wrote that not only the pupils but also the pupil teachers were given an official day’s holiday as a reward for their ‘unremitting zeal and energy’.¹⁴

Attendance could fall for more serious reasons. Mr Schleswick recorded that the summer of 1885 was exceptionally hot and it was difficult to keep the boys at their work as they were in a ‘state of exhaustion’. The area around St Helen’s was overcrowded, poor and susceptible to disease. Typhoid fever, that curse of unsanitary water supplies, attacked the school in 1896 ‘in spite of the drains being regularly disinfected by the Urban Sanitary Authority’. When Mr Schleswick inspected the drinking-water cistern, he found that it was filled with a deposit, to the depth of an inch and had a dirty filter.¹⁵ Other infectious diseases extracted a heavy toll: an outbreak of measles would close the school for three weeks,¹⁶ scarlet fever, that harbinger of rheumatic fever, sinus and ear infections, also visited regularly. Boys from houses where infection lurked were sent home to reduce the risk of cross contamination in this pre-antibiotic era, but death was a common caller. In 1887, there was a drought which had an impact both by causing dehydration and because the boys drank infected water. On this occasion wily local entrepreneurs profited by collecting barrels of water from springs in the countryside and transporting and selling the water to whichever urbanite could afford to buy it.

The end of the school day was the signal for those boys, who did not have to work for their parents, to escape to freedom. They made their own entertainment; since there were no cars or buses, but only slowly moving horse drawn vehicles, they could play on the street: trundling hoops, whipping tops or just standing in the middle of the street and gossiping. St Helen’s was close to Swansea Bay, famous for oysters, but probably of more interest to the boys as a glorious beach playground for football and swimming. Sundays were rest days. Edgar went with his family to Sunday school during the day and church in the evening. They all wore their ‘Sunday best’ clothes for the church visit.

Soon after his tenth birthday Edgar became a ‘half timer’. This exploitative use of cheap child labour meant that school time was cut, so that Edgar spent half the day at school, half at work. For his work he earned about a shilling (approximately £5 in current value) a week. He was relatively