In the following pages, it is proposed to record the personal history of an American hero whose fortune it was, at the sacrifice of his life, to visit and explore the utmost limit in the Arctic regions ever attained by human skill and enterprise. Aside from the information communicated to me by his family, the materials placed in my hands consist of his private correspondence and various journals which he faithfully kept while serving his country on the Western frontiers, as well as in the inhospitable domain of the North. As the poet Fitz-Greene Halleck wrote about a kindred character— “He lived, as mothers wish their sons to live,” and, on the score of fidelity to duty, “He died, as fathers wish their sons to die,” leaving a name that will long be honored in every civilized land as that of a martyr in the cause of geographical exploration. Many of those connected with the Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland, before the civil war, will remember a playful and mischievous boy, whose ready smile and cheerful ways beguiled them in their hours of relaxation. Others who were at that school after the war will remember the same boy, grown into a youth of sixteen years, rugged in aspect, devoted to manly sports, and assiduous in all his duties. It is the story of his brief but eventful life to which this volume is devoted, written for the information of his friends and all those who admire true heroism and rare abilities when allied to sufferings for the public weal. James Booth Lockwood was the second son and third child of General Henry H. Lockwood and Anna Booth Lockwood. He was born at the Naval Academy, Annapolis, on the 9th of October, 1852, at which time and place his father—a Professor of Mathematics in the Navy—instructed the midshipmen in the military branches, as he had done for many years before. Both his parents were from the State of Delaware, and came from the best stock of that State; and, as his father taught his students “how to shoot,” and prepare themselves for the conflicts of life, it was quite natural that the son should have acquired a love of noble deeds and adventure. Like many boys, he had his narrow escapes from death, one of which occurred in April, 1860, when, having fallen into the river from the dock, he was rescued in an insensible condition, and restored to life with great difficulty. This escape must have been recalled by him with special emotion in after-years amid his struggles with the ice of Smith’s Sound. His innate love of fun had been one of his characteristics from childhood, nor was it subdued even when recovering from the accident which nearly cost him his life; for, while lying in his bed, he peered into his father’s face with a quizzical smile, and remarked, “I was drowned, but not drowned dead.”