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Madhouse at the End of the Earth: The Belgica's Journey into the Dark Antarctic Night
The "exquisitely researched and deeply engrossing" (The New York Times) true survival story of an early polar expedition that went terribly awry-with the ship frozen in ice and the crew trapped inside for the entire sunless, Antarctic winter
"The energy of the narrative never flags. . . . Sancton has produced a thriller."-The Wall Street Journal
In August 1897, the young Belgian commandant Adrien de Gerlache set sail for a three-year expedition aboard the good ship Belgica with dreams of glory. His destination was the uncharted end of the earth: the icy continent of Antarctica.
But de Gerlache's plans to be first to the magnetic South Pole would swiftly go awry. After a series of costly setbacks, the commandant faced two bad options: turn back in defeat and spare his men the devastating Antarctic winter, or recklessly chase fame by sailing deeper into the freezing waters. De Gerlache sailed on, and soon the Belgica was stuck fast in the icy hold of the Bellingshausen Sea. When the sun set on the magnificent polar landscape one last time, the ship's occupants were condemned to months of endless night. In the darkness, plagued by a mysterious illness and besieged by monotony, they descended into madness.
In Madhouse at the End of the Earth, Julian Sancton unfolds an epic story of adventure and horror for the ages. As the Belgica's men teetered on the brink, de Gerlache relied increasingly on two young officers whose friendship had blossomed in captivity: the expedition's lone American, Dr. Frederick Cook-half genius, half con man-whose later infamy would overshadow his brilliance on the Belgica; and the ship's first mate, soon-to-be legendary Roald Amundsen, even in his youth the storybook picture of a sailor. Together, they would plan a last-ditch, nearly certain-to-fail escape from the ice-one that would either etch their names in history or doom them to a terrible fate at the ocean's bottom.
Drawing on the diaries and journals of the Belgica's crew and with exclusive access to the ship's logbook, Sancton brings novelistic flair to a story of human extremes, one so remarkable that even today NASA studies it for research on isolation for future missions to Mars. Equal parts maritime thriller and gothic horror, Madhouse at the End of the Earth is an unforgettable journey into the deep.
"The energy of the narrative never flags. . . . Sancton has produced a thriller."-The Wall Street Journal
In August 1897, the young Belgian commandant Adrien de Gerlache set sail for a three-year expedition aboard the good ship Belgica with dreams of glory. His destination was the uncharted end of the earth: the icy continent of Antarctica.
But de Gerlache's plans to be first to the magnetic South Pole would swiftly go awry. After a series of costly setbacks, the commandant faced two bad options: turn back in defeat and spare his men the devastating Antarctic winter, or recklessly chase fame by sailing deeper into the freezing waters. De Gerlache sailed on, and soon the Belgica was stuck fast in the icy hold of the Bellingshausen Sea. When the sun set on the magnificent polar landscape one last time, the ship's occupants were condemned to months of endless night. In the darkness, plagued by a mysterious illness and besieged by monotony, they descended into madness.
In Madhouse at the End of the Earth, Julian Sancton unfolds an epic story of adventure and horror for the ages. As the Belgica's men teetered on the brink, de Gerlache relied increasingly on two young officers whose friendship had blossomed in captivity: the expedition's lone American, Dr. Frederick Cook-half genius, half con man-whose later infamy would overshadow his brilliance on the Belgica; and the ship's first mate, soon-to-be legendary Roald Amundsen, even in his youth the storybook picture of a sailor. Together, they would plan a last-ditch, nearly certain-to-fail escape from the ice-one that would either etch their names in history or doom them to a terrible fate at the ocean's bottom.
Drawing on the diaries and journals of the Belgica's crew and with exclusive access to the ship's logbook, Sancton brings novelistic flair to a story of human extremes, one so remarkable that even today NASA studies it for research on isolation for future missions to Mars. Equal parts maritime thriller and gothic horror, Madhouse at the End of the Earth is an unforgettable journey into the deep.
Editorial Reviews
"A grade-A classic."-The Sunday Times
"A vivid horror story . . . thrillingly recounted."-The New York Review of Books
"As soon as you finish, you want to read it again."-Daily Mail
"Madhouse at the End of the Earth [is an] exquisitely researched and deeply engrossing account of the Belgica's disastrous Antarctic expedition. Sancton uses . . . an extraordinary treasure trove . . . to tease out the personalities and fears and rivalries of his subjects [in] his increasingly harrowing descriptions of life on the Belgica."-The New York Times
"An extraordinary tale of ambition, folly, heroism and survival, superbly told by Julian Sancton, who has rescued the Belgica's story from relative obscurity and brought it to magnificent life . . . [a] splendid, beautifully written book."-The Spectator
"I started reading Madhouse at the End of the Earth . . . and I couldn't stop. [It] reads like an adventure novel [and] is so detailed you can almost smell and taste it."-Bon Appétit
"Locked down, I craved perilous adventure. Julian Sancton's Madhouse at the End of the Earth delivered. The Belgica's 1897 South Pole expedition is pure horror. Clueless captain, rat-infested ship frozen into the ice, scurvy, darkness, hunger, insanity . . . terrific stuff."-The New Statesman, "Books of the Year"
"At once a riveting survival tale and a terrifying psychological thriller, Madhouse at the End of the Earth is a mesmerizing, unputdownable read. It deserves a place beside Alfred Lansing's immortal classic Endurance."-Nathaniel Philbrick, New York Times bestselling author of In the Heart of the Sea and Valiant Ambition
"Madhouse is that rare nonfiction gem-an obscure but important history transformed by deep research and note-perfect storytelling into a classic thriller. Reading this book is as much an adventure as the very story it tells."-Walter Isaacson, New York Times bestselling author of Leonardo da Vinci and Steve Jobs
"Madhouse at the End of the Earth has it all: idealism, ingenuity, ambition, explosives, flimflammery, a colorful cast, a blank map, a three-month-long night, penguins (and medicinal penguin meat). . . . A riveting tale, splendidly told."-Stacy Schiff, Pulitzer Prize–winning author of The Witches and Cleopatra
"A generation before Shackleton's Endurance, an adventure every bit as bold and dreadful took place at the bottom of the world, led by a band of unimaginably colorful and resolute explorers. A wild tale, so well told and im...
"A vivid horror story . . . thrillingly recounted."-The New York Review of Books
"As soon as you finish, you want to read it again."-Daily Mail
"Madhouse at the End of the Earth [is an] exquisitely researched and deeply engrossing account of the Belgica's disastrous Antarctic expedition. Sancton uses . . . an extraordinary treasure trove . . . to tease out the personalities and fears and rivalries of his subjects [in] his increasingly harrowing descriptions of life on the Belgica."-The New York Times
"An extraordinary tale of ambition, folly, heroism and survival, superbly told by Julian Sancton, who has rescued the Belgica's story from relative obscurity and brought it to magnificent life . . . [a] splendid, beautifully written book."-The Spectator
"I started reading Madhouse at the End of the Earth . . . and I couldn't stop. [It] reads like an adventure novel [and] is so detailed you can almost smell and taste it."-Bon Appétit
"Locked down, I craved perilous adventure. Julian Sancton's Madhouse at the End of the Earth delivered. The Belgica's 1897 South Pole expedition is pure horror. Clueless captain, rat-infested ship frozen into the ice, scurvy, darkness, hunger, insanity . . . terrific stuff."-The New Statesman, "Books of the Year"
"At once a riveting survival tale and a terrifying psychological thriller, Madhouse at the End of the Earth is a mesmerizing, unputdownable read. It deserves a place beside Alfred Lansing's immortal classic Endurance."-Nathaniel Philbrick, New York Times bestselling author of In the Heart of the Sea and Valiant Ambition
"Madhouse is that rare nonfiction gem-an obscure but important history transformed by deep research and note-perfect storytelling into a classic thriller. Reading this book is as much an adventure as the very story it tells."-Walter Isaacson, New York Times bestselling author of Leonardo da Vinci and Steve Jobs
"Madhouse at the End of the Earth has it all: idealism, ingenuity, ambition, explosives, flimflammery, a colorful cast, a blank map, a three-month-long night, penguins (and medicinal penguin meat). . . . A riveting tale, splendidly told."-Stacy Schiff, Pulitzer Prize–winning author of The Witches and Cleopatra
"A generation before Shackleton's Endurance, an adventure every bit as bold and dreadful took place at the bottom of the world, led by a band of unimaginably colorful and resolute explorers. A wild tale, so well told and im...
Readers Top Reviews
maria maren1msrM How
I loved this book, I was hooked on paragraph one, page one. Easy read, gripping like a thriller. The author did a lot of research and it shows. One of the best books on polar explorations and I have read quite a number. This is a great book for anyone who has an interest in polar explorations, either a novice or a seasoned reader.
MaryS
A good book full of interesting stuff, but the characters were oddly unengaging. For me it was somewhat spoiled near the start when the captain, in a fit of pique, threw the ship's cat overboard and left it to drown. I'm afraid I wished him nothing but ill after that. Actually, the book featured quite a lot of animal cruelty. Part of the story, no doubt, but unpleasant to read
Beach reader
What a compelling read! The writing was fantastic, and the primary source research was seamlessly pulled into a narrative that was engaging and psychologically fascinating. I was in awe of how much research the author did, yet still managed to make the story so engaging that I picked it up each morning in preference to the daily paper (something I never do.) I have read many polar exploration accounts and often the Belgica has been mentioned in passing as an example of men who went mad after being trapped through the polar night. What an over-simplification! I had read nothing that told the story of these men's fortitude and unbelievable resourcefulness, nor did it stick in my mind from these mentions that the Belgica successfully over-wintered and RETURNED HOME, while only losing two men. Reading about how they survived and got out of the pack ice made my jaw drop. Thank goodness someone has finally told the real story, so that the Belgica expedition gets its due and doesn't remain merely a misleading footnote about insanity from isolation. It truly rivals Shackleton's story for sheer endurance and psychological resilience -- I'm left sad that so many polar adventure readers have been left with the impression for over a century that the Beljica was nothing more than an object lesson about what could go wrong. Instead, it is an object lesson about the human spirit and what can be done when all appears to be lost. Absolutely inspiring. Thank you so much for hours of enjoyment and inspiration, Julian Sancton, thank you for resurrecting these men's unbelievable accomplishment in a way that gave me courage for my own life.
Paul F.
A great adventure story that actually happened! I had never heard of the voyage described in this book, but now will never forget it. Memorable characters and events in a compulsively readable narrative. You will not be able to put this one down. Highly recommended!
mikey d.
This is an excellent read, and I had to limit myself from reading too much at once. The author has done much research and it pays off in the enjoyable level of detail and rich anecdotal style of writing. I had read Amundsen's published journals from the NW Passage and his conquest of the South Pole, and thoroughly enjoyed them; he is an entertaining writer and I am surprised he was not better known as a travel writer of sorts. In this book it is great to meet the early Amundsen & see his development taking place. HIs friendship with Dr. Cook is inspiring and the two of them were out-of-the-box thinkers & problem solvers. Like magic, somehow de Gerlach morphs into an inspired sea captain whenever it comes to awful storms and nearly getting shipwrecked a few times in the strait of Magellan. I found it shocking how weak the men became mid-winter, and symptoms beyond scurvy were definitely at play. It's a very dark period for the entire crew, a disturbing time to read about, even today. I think it is admirable how the crew extracted themselves from ice to reach the open seas again. I commend the author for his handling of the emotional parts of the story and as stated I especially enjoyed learning some new things about Amundsen.
Short Excerpt Teaser
Chapter 1
Why Not Belgium?
August 16, 1897
ANTWERP
The river Scheldt wound languidly from northern France through Belgium, taking a sharp westward turn at the port of Antwerp, where it became deep and wide enough to accommodate oceangoing ships. On this cloudless summer morning, more than twenty thousand people flocked along the city's riverfront to salute the departure of the Belgica and exult in its glory. Freshly painted steel gray, the 113-foot-long, three-masted steam whaler, fitted with a coal-powered engine, was headed to Antarctica to chart its unknown coasts and collect data on its flora, fauna, and geology. But what drew the crowds today was not the promise of scientific discovery so much as national pride: Belgium, little Belgium, a country that had declared its independence from Holland sixty-seven years earlier and was thus younger than many of its citizens, was staking a claim to the next frontier of human exploration.
At ten o'clock, the vessel weighed anchor and sailed at a regal pace in the direction of the North Sea, so freighted with coal, provisions, and equipment that her deck floated just a foot and a half above the water. Escorted by a flotilla of yachts that carried government officials, well-wishers, and press, the Belgica paraded before the city. She glided past the flag-bedecked townhouses lining the waterfront, past the flamboyant Gothic cathedral that dominated the skyline, past Het Steen, the fortress that had loomed over the river since the Middle Ages. From a pontoon, a military band played "La Brabançonne," Belgium's national anthem, a theme as grand as the country was small. Cannons fired in tribute, from both banks of the river. Vessels from around the world blew their foghorns and hoisted Belgium's black, yellow, and red flag. Cheers rippled across the crowd as the Belgica sailed by. The entire town seemed to vibrate.
Gazing back at this roiling sea of banners and hats and handkerchiefs from the bridge of the ship was the expedition's commandant, thirty-one-year-old Adrien de Gerlache de Gomery. His face betrayed little emotion, but behind his heavy-lidded eyes he burned with excitement. Every detail of his appearance had been meticulously attended to in preparation for this moment, down to the twist of his mustache, the crop of his beard, and the knot of his cravat. De Gerlache's dark, double-breasted greatcoat was too warm for this August morning, and not nearly warm enough for the frigid ends of the earth, but it lent him a dashing air befitting a man in the process of making history. Now and again, basking in the acclamation, he pulled off his Belgica-emblazoned cap by its patent-leather brim and waved it at the jubilant multitude. He had long hungered for these cheers. The starting point felt to him like the finish line. "My state of mind," he wrote, "was that of a man who has just reached his goal."
In a way, he had. That the ship was leaving at all was a personal triumph. Despite the heartfelt patriotism on display this morning, the Belgian Antarctic Expedition was less a national endeavor than the manifestation of Adrien de Gerlache's steadfast will. He had spent more than three years planning, staffing, and raising funds for the journey. His determination alone had won over skeptics, loosened purse strings, and rallied a nation behind him. Now, though he remained ten thousand miles from his destination, he was already enjoying a taste of glory. But on this euphoric day, with his countrymen hip-hip-hooraying him, it was easy for de Gerlache to forget that this glory was on credit. To earn it, he would have to survive one of the most hostile environments on earth, a continent so inimical to human life that no man had yet spent more than a few hours on its shores.
Belgium's border with Holland stretched across the Scheldt a dozen miles northwest of Antwerp. Before crossing it, the Belgica docked at Liefkenshoek quay to attend to one last order of business. Even as the merriment continued on deck and aboard the yachts that swarmed around the vessel, the crew shuttled between the quay and the Belgica's hold in order to load a half ton of tonite, an explosive believed to be more powerful than dynamite. The tonite sticks, which took up several large crates in the ship's hold, were de Gerlache's insurance policy. He didn't know what to expect from the Antarctic ice, only that a continent that had succeeded in staving off humanity until the nineteenth century demanded respect. He could imagine several ways the ship could be destroyed: she could slam into an iceberg or an uncharted reef. But perhaps the most dreaded possibility was that the Belgica would be caught in the ice and either crushed by the pressure or kept captive indefinitely, leavin...
Why Not Belgium?
August 16, 1897
ANTWERP
The river Scheldt wound languidly from northern France through Belgium, taking a sharp westward turn at the port of Antwerp, where it became deep and wide enough to accommodate oceangoing ships. On this cloudless summer morning, more than twenty thousand people flocked along the city's riverfront to salute the departure of the Belgica and exult in its glory. Freshly painted steel gray, the 113-foot-long, three-masted steam whaler, fitted with a coal-powered engine, was headed to Antarctica to chart its unknown coasts and collect data on its flora, fauna, and geology. But what drew the crowds today was not the promise of scientific discovery so much as national pride: Belgium, little Belgium, a country that had declared its independence from Holland sixty-seven years earlier and was thus younger than many of its citizens, was staking a claim to the next frontier of human exploration.
At ten o'clock, the vessel weighed anchor and sailed at a regal pace in the direction of the North Sea, so freighted with coal, provisions, and equipment that her deck floated just a foot and a half above the water. Escorted by a flotilla of yachts that carried government officials, well-wishers, and press, the Belgica paraded before the city. She glided past the flag-bedecked townhouses lining the waterfront, past the flamboyant Gothic cathedral that dominated the skyline, past Het Steen, the fortress that had loomed over the river since the Middle Ages. From a pontoon, a military band played "La Brabançonne," Belgium's national anthem, a theme as grand as the country was small. Cannons fired in tribute, from both banks of the river. Vessels from around the world blew their foghorns and hoisted Belgium's black, yellow, and red flag. Cheers rippled across the crowd as the Belgica sailed by. The entire town seemed to vibrate.
Gazing back at this roiling sea of banners and hats and handkerchiefs from the bridge of the ship was the expedition's commandant, thirty-one-year-old Adrien de Gerlache de Gomery. His face betrayed little emotion, but behind his heavy-lidded eyes he burned with excitement. Every detail of his appearance had been meticulously attended to in preparation for this moment, down to the twist of his mustache, the crop of his beard, and the knot of his cravat. De Gerlache's dark, double-breasted greatcoat was too warm for this August morning, and not nearly warm enough for the frigid ends of the earth, but it lent him a dashing air befitting a man in the process of making history. Now and again, basking in the acclamation, he pulled off his Belgica-emblazoned cap by its patent-leather brim and waved it at the jubilant multitude. He had long hungered for these cheers. The starting point felt to him like the finish line. "My state of mind," he wrote, "was that of a man who has just reached his goal."
In a way, he had. That the ship was leaving at all was a personal triumph. Despite the heartfelt patriotism on display this morning, the Belgian Antarctic Expedition was less a national endeavor than the manifestation of Adrien de Gerlache's steadfast will. He had spent more than three years planning, staffing, and raising funds for the journey. His determination alone had won over skeptics, loosened purse strings, and rallied a nation behind him. Now, though he remained ten thousand miles from his destination, he was already enjoying a taste of glory. But on this euphoric day, with his countrymen hip-hip-hooraying him, it was easy for de Gerlache to forget that this glory was on credit. To earn it, he would have to survive one of the most hostile environments on earth, a continent so inimical to human life that no man had yet spent more than a few hours on its shores.
Belgium's border with Holland stretched across the Scheldt a dozen miles northwest of Antwerp. Before crossing it, the Belgica docked at Liefkenshoek quay to attend to one last order of business. Even as the merriment continued on deck and aboard the yachts that swarmed around the vessel, the crew shuttled between the quay and the Belgica's hold in order to load a half ton of tonite, an explosive believed to be more powerful than dynamite. The tonite sticks, which took up several large crates in the ship's hold, were de Gerlache's insurance policy. He didn't know what to expect from the Antarctic ice, only that a continent that had succeeded in staving off humanity until the nineteenth century demanded respect. He could imagine several ways the ship could be destroyed: she could slam into an iceberg or an uncharted reef. But perhaps the most dreaded possibility was that the Belgica would be caught in the ice and either crushed by the pressure or kept captive indefinitely, leavin...
