Last Letters: Further Extracts

Letters to his Mother, his Wife, his Brother-in-law (Sir William
Ellison Macartney), Admiral Sir Lewis Beaumont, and Mr. and
Mrs. Reginald Smith were also found, from which come the following
extracts:

The Great God has called me and I feel it will add a fearful blow to
the heavy ones that have fallen on you in life. But take comfort in
that I die at peace with the world and myself–not afraid.

Indeed it has been most singularly unfortunate, for the risks I have
taken never seemed excessive.

… I want to tell you that we have missed getting through by
a narrow margin which was justifiably within the risk of such a
journey … After all, we have given our lives for our country–we
have actually made the longest journey on record, and we have been
the first Englishmen at the South Pole.

You must understand that it is too cold to write much.

… It’s a pity the luck doesn’t come our way, because every detail
of equipment is right.

I shall not have suffered any pain, but leave the world fresh from
harness and full of good health and vigour.

Since writing the above we got to within 11 miles of our depot, with
one hot meal and two days’ cold food. We should have got through but
have been held for four days by a frightful storm. I think the best
chance has gone. We have decided not to kill ourselves, but to fight to
the last for that depôt, but in the fighting there is a painless end.

Make the boy interested in natural history if you can; it is better
than games; they encourage it at some schools. I know you will keep
him in the open air.

Above all, he must guard and you must guard him against indolence. Make
him a strenuous man. I had to force myself into being strenuous as
you know–had always an inclination to be idle.

There is a piece of the Union Jack I put up at the South Pole in
my private kit bag, together with Amundsen’s black flag and other
trifles. Send a small piece of the Union Jack to the King and a small
piece to Queen Alexandra.

What lots and lots I could tell you of this journey. How much better
has it been than lounging in too great comfort at home. What tales
you would have for the boys. But what a price to pay.

Tell Sir Clements–I thought much of him and never regretted him
putting me in command of the Discovery.

Last Letters: To Mr J J Kinsey

TO MR. J.J. KINSEY–CHRISTCHURCH

March 24th, 1912.

MY DEAR KINSEY,

I’m afraid we are pretty well done–four days of blizzard just as
we were getting to the last depot. My thoughts have been with you
often. You have been a brick. You will pull the expedition through,
I’m sure.

My thoughts are for my wife and boy. Will you do what you can for
them if the country won’t.

I want the boy to have a good chance in the world, but you know the
circumstances well enough.

If I knew the wife and boy were in safe keeping I should have little
regret in leaving the world, for I feel that the country need not be
ashamed of us–our journey has been the biggest on record, and nothing
but the most exceptional hard luck at the end would have caused us to
fail to return. We have been to the S. pole as we set out. God bless
you and dear Mrs. Kinsey. It is good to remember you and your kindness.

Your friend,
R. SCOTT.

Last Letters: Vice-Admiral Egerton

TO VICE-ADMIRAL SIR GEORGE LE CLEARC EGERTON. K.C.B.

MY DEAR SIR GEORGE,

I fear we have shot our bolt–but we have been to Pole and done the
longest journey on record.

I hope these letters may find their destination some day.

Subsidiary reasons of our failure to return are due to the sickness of
different members of the party, but the real thing that has stopped
us is the awful weather and unexpected cold towards the end of the
journey.

This traverse of the Barrier has been quite three times as severe as
any experience we had on the summit.

There is no accounting for it, but the result has thrown out my
calculations, and here we are little more than 100 miles from the
base and petering out.

Good-bye. Please see my widow is looked after as far as Admiralty
is concerned.

R. SCOTT.

My kindest regards to Lady Egerton. I can never forget all your
kindness.

Last Letters: To Vice-Admiral Sir Francis Charles Bridgeman

TO VICE-ADMIRAL SIR FRANCIS CHARLES BRIDGEMAN, K.C.V.O., K.C.B.

MY DEAR SIR FRANCIS,

I fear we have shipped up; a close shave; I am writing a few
letters which I hope will be delivered some day. I want to thank
you for the friendship you gave me of late years, and to tell you
how extraordinarily pleasant I found it to serve under you. I want
to tell you that I was not too old for this job. It was the younger
men that went under first… After all we are setting a good example
to our countrymen, if not by getting into a tight place, by facing
it like men when we were there. We could have come through had we
neglected the sick.

Good-bye, and good-bye to dear Lady Bridgeman.

Yours ever,

R. SCOTT.

Excuse writing–it is -40°, and has been for nigh a month.

Last Letters: To the Right Hon Sir Edgar Speyer, BART.

TO THE RIGHT HON. SIR EDGAR SPEYER, BART.

Dated March 16, 1912. Lat. 79.5°.

MY DEAR SIR EDGAR,

I hope this may reach you. I fear we must go and that it leaves the
Expedition in a bad muddle. But we have been to the Pole and we shall
die like gentlemen. I regret only for the women we leave behind.

I thank you a thousand times for your help and support and your
generous kindness. If this diary is found it will show how we stuck
by dying companions and fought the thing out well to the end. I think
this will show that the Spirit of pluck and power to endure has not
passed out of our race …

Wilson, the best fellow that ever stepped, has sacrificed himself
again and again to the sick men of the party …

I write to many friends hoping the letters will reach them some time
after we are found next year.

We very nearly came through, and it’s a pity to have missed it,
but lately I have felt that we have overshot our mark. No one is
to blame and I hope no attempt will be made to suggest that we have
lacked support.

Good-bye to you and your dear kind wife.

Yours ever sincerely,
R. SCOTT.

Last Letters: To Sir J M Barrie

TO SIR J. M. BARRIE

MY DEAR BARRIE,

We are pegging out in a very comfortless spot. Hoping this letter
may be found and sent to you, I write a word of farewell. … More
practically I want you to help my widow and my boy–your godson. We are
showing that Englishmen can still die with a bold spirit, fighting it
out to the end. It will be known that we have accomplished our object
in reaching the Pole, and that we have done everything possible,
even to sacrificing ourselves in order to save sick companions. I
think this makes an example for Englishmen of the future, and that
the country ought to help those who are left behind to mourn us. I
leave my poor girl and your godson, Wilson leaves a widow, and Edgar
Evans also a widow in humble circumstances. Do what you can to get
their claims recognised. Goodbye. I am not at all afraid of the end,
but sad to miss many a humble pleasure which I had planned for the
future on our long marches. I may not have proved a great explorer,
but we have done the greatest march ever made and come very near to
great success. Goodbye, my dear friend,

Yours ever,
R. SCOTT.

We are in a desperate state, feet frozen, &c. No fuel and a long
way from food, but it would do your heart good to be in our tent,
to hear our songs and the cheery conversation as to what we will do
when we get to Hut Point.

Later.–We are very near the end, but have not and will not lose
our good cheer. We have four days of storm in our tent and nowhere’s
food or fuel. We did intend to finish ourselves when things proved
like this, but we have decided to die naturally in the track.

As a dying man, my dear friend, be good to my wife and child. Give
the boy a chance in life if the State won’t do it. He ought to have
good stuff in him. … I never met a man in my life whom I admired
and loved more than you, but I never could show you how much your
friendship meant to me, for you had much to give and I nothing.

Last Letters: To Mrs Bowers

TO MRS. BOWERS

MY DEAR MRS. BOWERS,

I am afraid this will reach you after one of the heaviest blows of
your life.

I write when we are very near the end of our journey, and I am
finishing it in company with two gallant, noble gentlemen. One of
these is your son. He had come to be one of my closest and soundest
friends, and I appreciate his wonderful upright nature, his ability
and energy. As the troubles have thickened his dauntless spirit ever
shone brighter and he has remained cheerful, hopeful, and indomitable
to the end.

The ways of Providence are inscrutable, but there must be some reason
why such a young, vigorous and promising life is taken.

My whole heart goes out in pity for you.

Yours,
R. SCOTT.

To the end he has talked of you and his sisters. One sees what a
happy home he must have had and perhaps it is well to look back on
nothing but happiness.

He remains unselfish, self-reliant and splendidly hopeful to the end,
believing in God’s mercy to you.