While Greely was exploring Grinnell land, another party from Fort Conger, under Lieutenant Lockwood, had forced its way across Robeson channel to the Greenland coast. Lockwood’s party proceeded northward in the face of many severe trials. The thermometer registered 81° below the freezing point; add to this rough ice and severe winds, and we may faintly imagine the suffering endured.

During a snowstorm the men were obliged to dig a hole in a snow bank and crawl into it for protection. But the opening soon filled up with drifting snow, and the air became so foul that the men were glad to creep out again. Sometimes the wind blew them over while they were at work, and once a fierce gust lifted one of the dog sledges, with its load of two hundred pounds, from the ground. Nevertheless, on April 27, 1882, the party reached Cape Bryant, where they camped and proceeded to explore the surrounding country. The men of the supporting party, as had been agreed, turned back at this point and returned to Fort Conger.

Then Lieutenant Lockwood, Sergeant Brainard, and an Eskimo named Christianson set off to the north to Cape Britannia, taking with them enough food to last twenty-five days. The ice was in fair condition for pushing rapidly forward, and they soon reached Cape Britannia, a towering cliff. The men climbed to the top and gazed around over the snow-covered mountain peaks. Then they descended and traveled on over land never before trodden by white men. They crossed Nordenskjöld inlet and Chipps inlet, and at length reached a new island, which was named after Lieutenant Lockwood. It lies in latitude 83° 24ʹ north, but four hundred and fifty miles from the pole, and was at that time, 1882, the northernmost point yet attained by any nation.

For three hundred years England had held the honor of penetrating farthest north. From the time of Henry Hudson, who, in 1607, reached latitude 81° 30ʹ, the English sailors had succeeded in going nearer to the pole than the explorers of any other nation. In 1875, an English Arctic expedition under Captain Nares, reached latitude 83° 20ʹ north. Now, Lockwood and Brainard had gained for America the glory of penetrating the farthest north.

From a height of twenty-six hundred feet these two men saw fields of ice extending to the north as far as the horizon. To the northeast they saw Cape Washington, which is twenty-eight miles above Cape Columbia, the most northern point of Grinnell land. Cape Washington is the northernmost known limit of Greenland, lying in latitude 83° 38ʹ. After battling so long with the fierce gales and severe weather, the two men were so exhausted that they could with difficulty return to the camp. Shortly after their return it was decided to go back to Fort Conger. Two of the party were snow-blind and had to be led. The three brave travelers were greeted with delight by the rest of the party.

Their success in reaching the highest latitude yet attained was discussed at every meal. The time passed rapidly at Fort Conger, for the men were very busy, but presently they became anxious. The visiting ship which was expected in the summer of 1882, with supplies and recruits, did not arrive, and Greely prepared to pass a second winter at Fort Conger. When August, 1883, came and no visiting ship had yet made its appearance, it is no wonder that the men were disheartened.

At length, weary of waiting, and certain that it meant death to remain a third winter at Fort Conger, Greely decided to retreat to the south, hoping to meet the ship. He expected, at least, to find that provisions had been placed in depots, for his relief. The little steam launch, the Lady Greely, towed two other small boats through the narrow channels. Small amounts of food were found in different caches or depots along the route, though not enough to bring much relief. The party was now on the verge of starvation. Only after a desperate struggle did they succeed in reaching Cape Sabine, where they erected stone huts and prepared to pass the winter as best they might. Some of the party tried to hunt, but game had disappeared and darkness was close upon them. Their condition was indeed pitiable; their clothing was in rags, they had no fuel and but forty days’ rations.

But the United States had not forgotten the brave men who were risking their lives to make her name glorious. The Neptune, the Proteus, and the Yantic had been sent to relieve Greely during 1882 and 1883. Every one of these vessels, however, failed to reach him; moreover, they neglected to deposit supplies where he might have found them.

In the winter of 1883 and 1884, under the personal direction of Secretary Chandler, two vessels, the Thetis and the Bear, were bought and equipped for the relief of Greely. The Thetis was commanded by Commodore W. S. Schley, and sailed from New York on May 1, 1884. On board the Thetis was Chief Engineer Melville, who had made the heroic search for De Long of the ill-fated Jeannette. Melville himself had urged this relief expedition for Greely, and his energy and knowledge brought success.

Congress offered a reward of $25,000 to any vessel not in the navy, which should first find the missing men, and many a whaler went north in the attempt to win the prize. These vessels, though unsuccessful in the search, did some good, for they helped to break a passage through the ice.

The men of the Thetis, under Commodore Schley, did not delay a moment, or wait for favorable leads. When they could not advance in any other way, they tried to blast the ice in front and so force a passage. They fought the ice as they would fight a foe, never swerving from their one object—to reach Greely in as short a time as possible. Every possible effort was made, and by June 6 the Thetis reached Melville bay. Little by little she forged ahead, and reached the neighborhood of Smith sound.

Here all the men who could be spared were sent ashore to search for records, and at last one of the men came upon a cairn, which he opened. In it he found a bundle of Greely’s papers, photographs, and records. The most recent record was dated September, 1883, nine months before. It stated that the party had gone into camp four and a half miles west of Cape Sabine. Commodore Schley immediately ordered a party of men to take the steam cutter and find the camp. The Thetis then blew her whistles to call the search parties back to the ship.

The men of Greely’s party in the wretched tent at Camp Clay heard the whistles and knew that a vessel must be somewhere near, yet they were too weak to go in search of it, and too hopeless to believe that any one was near enough to find them. One man did crawl out and try to raise an oar with three rags on it, as a signal of distress, but the furious wind tore it down.

The sharp eyes of the men in the steam cutter saw this man. They ran the boat inshore and were soon questioning him about his companions. He told them that they were over the hill, and that seven of them still lived, among them Lieutenant Greely. The ice pilot jumped out of the boat and ran to the camp. He was the first of the party to speak to Lieutenant Greely, as he had been the last to see him when the Proteus steamed away from Discovery harbor three years before. Greely directed him to cut the back out of the tent with his pocket knife. When this was done, Greely on his hands and knees in his sleeping bag peered out. His hair and beard were long and matted, his face was covered with soot and dirt, and his eyes glittered with excitement. He heard with joy that help had arrived and that he and his companions were saved. In the midst of a terrific wind storm, the surviving men of Greely’s party were transferred to the Thetis and made comfortable.

Then came the dreadful work of collecting the bodies of the dead and carrying them aboard the ships, after which the Thetis and the Bear set sail from Camp Clay and headed for home. The ship reached Portsmouth, New Hampshire, August 1, 1884, where Greely and his command were transferred to the navy yard, while the bodies of the dead were taken to Governor’s island in New York harbor.

Thus ended one of the most successful and rapid relief voyages ever made. Had Commodore Schley been more cautious, not a man of Greely’s party would have been found alive. But Schley knew that this was a time for both courage and daring, and neither he nor any of his command lacked in these qualities.

Greely and the other survivors of his expedition received a royal welcome home. The President of the United States thanked them publicly on behalf of the nation, the Queen of England sent messages of inquiry and sympathy, and the people of Portsmouth held a grand reception in their honor. The government sent several large war vessels to the harbor, and Mr. Chandler, Secretary of the Navy, and other prominent men came with them. The shores of the river were lined with people and the harbor was filled with steamers, sailboats, and smaller craft, all gayly decorated with flags and bunting. Everybody was eager to welcome the brave men who had risked their lives and suffered so much in seeking to penetrate still farther into the Frozen North.

Those members of the expedition who lost their lives in this journey were not forgotten. A public funeral was held at Governor’s island, and every respect was paid to the memories of these men.

The results of Greely’s work in the Arctic regions were many. The programme for international scientific work had been carried out daily. All magnetic and climatic changes had been noted. The effect of the sun’s rays, the earth and ocean currents, the atmosphere, electricity, ice, and tides had been observed. A study had been made, also, of the animal and vegetable life of the locality, and of the Eskimos.

Both this Circumpolar station and the one established at Point Barrow were abandoned in 1883, but the value of the work accomplished through them was very great.