The Belgica & Beyond


amateur translations, scans, & assorted research by m.w.
actively under construction.

WRITTEN FROM THE BELGICA 1897-1899

  1. Racovitza’s cartoons 
  2. Racovitza’s shipboard diary
  3. Racovitza’s letters home
  4. Lecointe’s meeting notes

CORRESPONDENCE

  1. before
  2. after

    NEWS OF THE BELGICA 1896-1900

    1. coverage in the Belgian press, translated
    2. coverage in the British press
    3. coverage in the American press
    4. scientific lectures, translated
    5. list of Expedition publications
      6.        a) Lecointe on Danco’s contributions

    QUELQUES EXPÉDITIONS SUIVANTES

    1. de Gerlache & Charcot (the Français)
    2. de Gerlache & the Duke of Orléans (the Belgica in the Arctic)
    3. the failed Second Belgian Antarctic Expedition (Arctowski & Lecointe)
    4. the successful Second Belgian Antarctic Expedition (Gaston de Gerlache)
    5.  the Royal Belgian Observatory
    6. Georges Lecointe’s 20th Century

      MARRIAGES & OTHER LIFE EVENTS

      1. Lecointe Family
      2. Arctowski
      3. de Gerlache
      4. Racovitza
      5. van Mirlo
      6. van Rysselberghe

      ASSORTED BELGICA RESOURCES

      1. bibliography
      2. associated persons
      3. contemporary photographs


      the sailors of the Belgica performing a “starlight concert” on Sept. 26, 1897, from Johan Koren’s diary

      contact: packloafertranslations@gmail.com

      News of the Belgica



      I have been collecting and translating various newspaper articles on the Belgica and its crew since November 2023. I will add my screenshots and corresponding translations as time permits; all articles are from digitized National Libraries unless otherwise indicated. Links can be found in the date at the top of each article. [Bracketed] text was either a grammatical clarification added by me, m.w., or an indication of scan made in such a way that the text was obscured.









      portrait of Adrien de Gerlache from the front page of La Réforme, 17 August 1897


      M. Lecointe                         M. Racovitza                                 M. Danco                 M. Amundsen
      sketch by M. G. Flasschoen




      M. de Gerlache cries in the street.



      COMMANDER EVANS IN BRUSSELS

          Commander Evans, who was the second of the heroic Scott during the dramatic Antarctic expedition of the Terra Nova, where the celebrated explorer lost his life, is at this moment touring Europe.

          In Paris, under the presidency of M. Poincaré, in Rome, in the presence of the king of Italy, Commander Evans gave a moving account of the hours of anguish and faith he had experienced. Yesterday evening, he was the host of the Belgian Geographical Society. The great room of the Academic Palace was packed. 

          M. Malaise presided over the event, having [on one side] Commander Evans and another member of the Terra Nova wardroom, Lieutenant Mather of the British Royal Navy; [on the other] Messieurs Goblet d’Alviella, Leclerq, Buls, Lecointe, de Gerlache, de Loë, Dubreucq and Rahir. We also noted the presence of the English Minister to Belgium, accompanied by the lady Hyde Villiers and the personnel of the legation.

          M. Malaise, president of the Royal Belgian Geographic Society, in the name of said society, welcomed Commander Evans and gave him the diploma of a member of honor, along with the grand golden medal which had been destined for the head of the English expedition, the late Captain Scott.

          M. Georges Lecointe then speaks in the name of the “polars.” He gives homage to England, which has always been at the forefront of conquering the Poles. He recounts the efforts of James Ross in 1841, of Scott also, attaining in 1902 the 82°17’ central latitude; and of Shackleton, crossing the Great Barrier to reach 82°23’. This detracts nothing from the grandeur of the feat accomplished by Amundsen.

          M. Lecointe then gave, in broad strokes, the tragedy of the return of Scott’s small expedition, the death of the hero and of four of his companions in glory; the suffering that Commander Evans himself endured crossing the 1,300 kilometers which separated him from Doctor Atkinson’s team, when, in scurvy’s grasp, he demanded to be abandoned in the eternal snow so as not to compromise the health of his two companions. He finished in these terms:

          “Commander Evans, your former leader, Captain Scott, was one of our most faithful friends. He had signed the motion that we were responsible for presenting at the Congress of Mons under the high patronage of the King of the Belgians, a motion of which one of the goals was the conquest of the geographical poles. And these events have proven that the signatures were not given in vain. Scott was beloved by [obscured]. Commander Evans, take a place [obscured] for him in our hearts.”

          “For our young people, with enthusiastic [obscured], the memory of Scott will be the sublime example of the sacrifices men must make to accomplish science.”

          “And you, for the same young people, will be a symbol of success for their [obscured] feverishly evoked in critical moments. Envisioning the halo of glory which crowns your suffering will rekindle their failing strength, exalt their spirits and perhaps convince them to triumph, like you, against adversity.”

          After these two short speeches, Commander Evans was given a wild ovation. 

          Very emotionally, he thanked us, then, in French spoken with an English accent, he retraced the moving adventures of the mission.

          He first recounted the preparations for the voyage, the first contact of the expedition ship, the Terra Nova, with polar ice, the establishment of the winter quarters, Scott’s successive departures to lay depots of food along the route to the Pole; he told of how, only in November 1911, after nine months of preparation, Captain Scott set out with fourteen men divided into teams who were to stagger their return to the expedition base camp.

          On the 3rd of January 1912, the expedition was no more than 270 kilometers from their ultimate goal. Captain Scott asked Evans to give him a man and some of his rations, then beat a retreat to the supply post left behind. A devoted soldier, Evans bowed to his will.

          When recounting their separation, his voice takes on a hint of sadness:

          “We turned around to watch them walk away. Soon enough, they appeared to us, retreating into that vast white expanse, as nothing more than little black dots. Our hurrahs would be the last encouragements they would hear in a human voice.” 

          After two and a half months of effort, Captain Scott and his companions arrived at the Pole; they found there the remnants of the campsite of Amundsen, who’d reached the goal one month earlier; for two days they took astronomical observations to determine the exact placement of the Pole and planted the British flag about 600 meters away from the Norwegian flag, which should give a sense of the precision with which the two parties worked. 

          Meanwhile, Commander Evans and his companions are making their return. Struck with scurvy, the leader asks his companions to abandon him. They refuse, and the return is a struggle against illness and bad weather.

          Finally, the little band arrives at the winter barracks of the Terra Nova. Then comes the messenger carrying morbid news: Scott was beaten. One after the other, his companions had fallen. Death reaped them each in turn. His diary of the route concluded: “These frustrated notes and our corpses will tell our story.”

          We heard this story, recounted with a moving simplicity by Commander Evans, and we were shocked. No big words, no sentences, just an eloquent tale of a man of action, full, brief, decisive: facts, features, tableaux: a striking summary of the murderous Pole. He gives everyone their credit: the cook, the photographer, Doctor Wilson, Captain Oates, Lieutenant Bowers, the sailor Edgar Evans, and the good ponies, the brave dogs, from “the oldest and the wisest of whom,” he said, “played sick to escape their chores.” He spoke of penguins who did not shine with intelligence: “they sometimes sat on bits of ice, mistaking them for their eggs.” The men went on expeditions; they endured suffering; they were forced to ration. At last, they decided to sacrifice their ponies, and, to ease the last steps of the poor beasts, distributed what few cookies they had left…

          Their good humor never left them. On Christmas Day, one of the men fell into a crevasse thirty feet deep. They managed to save him. Once he was returned to the ice, they wished him a Merry Christmas and many similar birthdays.

          They would sink into a crevasse in the snow up to their necks, “but it wasn’t worth the pain to speak of it,” Commander Evans concluded phlegmatically. 

          Projections and cinematic views representing each member of the mission and the episodes of the expedition, which added the magic of images to the speech, excited the audience and achieved great success. Acclamations and bravos rang out over and over again. The ovation was immense when Commander Evans finished his conference saying: 

          “Every member of the expedition had the same motto: Honor and duty!”