The Incredible Life and Times of Matthew Henson, the Most Underrated Explorer in History

Born the son of two freeborn sharecroppers in Maryland in 1866, Henson spent only a few years on the family farm. His mother died when he was four, and Henson's father moved his six children to Washington, DC, where they had family. A few years later, Henson’s father passed away as well. Henson was left in the hands of other family members at the age of 11, and the preteen took work in a restaurant. When he didn’t find the work to his liking, he left home and walked the 40-plus miles to Baltimore in search of employment.

When the 11-year-old Henson arrived in Baltimore, he started working as a cabin boy on a ship called Katie Hines. While serving on board, the Henson was informally “adopted” by the ship’s captain, a man named Childs. Captain Childs oversaw Henson’s education and his development as a seaman. Over the course of the next few years, Henson worked happily on the Katie Hines as it traveled to China, Japan, the Philippines, Africa, France, and Russia.

In 1884, Captain Childs took sick and ultimately met his end at sea. Unable to think about life aboard Katie Hines without his mentor, Henson found work on a schooner that was headed for Newfoundland. Unfortunately, this trip was nothing like his last one. The captain of the fishing schooner was unmerciful, the ship was kept in horrible condition, and the rest of the crew resented the black man who was brought to work alongside them. Henson left the schooner at the first opportunity and slowly made his way back to Washington, DC by working odd jobs throughout the Northeast.

When he returned to Washington, DC, in the 1880s, Henson was among the countless other black men and women searching for gainful employment. The effects of the Civil War and Reconstruction were still wreaking havoc on the United States, crippling its economy and creating an intensifying feeling of hatred and racism. The environment in DC was tense. Fortunately, Henson found work as a clerk in the clothing shop of B. H. Steinmetz and Sons. Over the next several months, as Henson was tending the shop, Naval Lieutenant Robert Peary walked into the shop seemingly at random. Under the pretense of searching for a new tropical hat, Peary conducted a surreptitious interview of young Henson. Ultimately, he offered Henson a job as his personal servant on an expedition to Nicaragua. As it happened, B. H. Steinmetz had recognized Henson’s intelligence and his growing discontent and had cajoled Peary into swinging through the shop to meet him.

Robert Peary initially hired Henson as a valet for his Nicaraguan trip. But when Peary learned of Henson’s extensive experience at sea, his “manservant” was promoted to the transit team before the expedition even set sail. Henson soon became a valued member of the survey team, performing so admirably that he would become Peary’s traveling companion for the next several decades.

When the Nicaragua expedition returned home, Robert Peary went back to his day job in the Navy, and Henson returned to work as a stock boy in DC. It wasn’t long, however, until Peary secured work for Henson in his office. Then, Henson volunteered to accompany Peary on his 1891 expedition to Greenland. During the trip, Peary broke his leg, fracturing two bones. As he struggled to recover, Henson was instrumental to the expedition. For his part, Peary recovered admirably and was able to help survey Greenland the following year on their arrival. In recognition of Henson's contributions to the endeavor, Peary named Cape Henson after him.

During his time with Robert Peary, Henson continued to expand his education. He took a particular fascination with the Inuit people and their lives. Henson learned to build sleds so well that he was Peary’s primary craftsmen, and was so skilled at driving a dog team that Peary reportedly said he "was more of an Eskimo than some of them." Henson's closeness to the Inuit people also extended to personal relationships. He even fathered a son with an Inuit women named Akatingwah.

In 1893, Robert Peary and Henson returned to Greenland with the goal of charting the entire ice cap. The trip was a disaster, and the starving team had to survive by eating their sled dogs. The real aim of these expeditions was to find a path to the North Pole. But while surveying the area, the duo discovered that the Arctic’s treacherous sea of ice drifts made passage by boat nearly impossible. After another risky expedition in 1902 caused the deaths of six people, Peary and Henson concluded that they needed a new kind of ship that could cut through Arctic ice.

On their many Greenland expeditions, Henson and Robert Peary discovered three meteorites. Even after nearly dying in the frozen expanses, the men returned to bring the finds back with them. They sold the meteorites to the Museum of Natural History and used the money to fund later expeditions to the Arctic.

In 1902, after nearly a decade as a respected surveyor and explorer, Henson returned from Greenland to the United States with Robert Peary. While Peary spent the next several years raising money for the ship that could take them through the ice to the North Pole, Henson struck out on his own. In an attempt to explore the United States, Henson took a job as a porter for the Pennsylvania Railroad. Though Henson was initially delighted with the sunshine-soaked South, he was pelted with oranges by racist locals on a trip to Florida. A few weeks later, hostile whites attacked Henson at a stopover in New Orleans. At this point, Henson reluctantly quit his job, moved to New York, and waited for Peary to finish raising funds for their next trip.

In 1905, Henson left his new wife, Lucy Ross, in New York to go to the North Pole. Heading out of harbor in June, Peary’s expedition sailed on the newly constructed Roosevelt, named after President Theodore Roosevelt, who was one of Peary’s most enthusiastic supporters. Over the next several months, the crew made their way north, preparing to take on the monumental task of reaching the North Pole.

In April 1909, Henson, Robert Peary, and a team of four Inuits set off on their own to reach the North Pole. As the men drew closer to their destination, Henson pulled ahead of Peary and the rest of the team, reaching Camp Jesup 45 minutes ahead of his friend. When Peary finally showed up, Henson quipped, “I think I'm the first man to sit on top of the world.” Peary’s reaction was what Henson referred to as “hopping mad.” After that moment, Peary grew more withdrawn. He told Henson that he wasn’t sure that he could swear they made it. Henson replied confidently, “I have kept track of the distance and we have made exceptional time. If we have traveled in the right direction, we are now at the Pole. If we have not traveled in the right direction, then it is your own fault.” When the men and their crew returned to the United States, Peary was hailed as a hero. Largely overlooked in the aftermath of the expedition, Henson went to work as a clerk in a New York federal customs house. The argument over who had reached the North Pole first ended the relationship between Henson and Peary.

As time passed, Henson’s contributions to the Polar expedition finally came to the forefront. But it took a while. Though he wrote a book about his expedition in 1912, entitled A Negro Explorer at the North Pole, Henson was relegated to anonymity for the next three decades. Henson was admitted to the prestigious Explorers Club in New York in 1937. In 1939, he was awarded an honorary Masters of Science from Howard University, and in 1949, the Department of Defense officially recognized his contribution to Robert Peary’s North Pole expedition. In 1955, Henson passed away. His remains and the remains of his wife, Lucy, were later moved to Arlington National Cemetery to honor him.

A year after Henson’s death, Herbert M. Frisby, an African-American man from Henson’s home state of Maryland, flew over the North Pole and dropped a steel box. It contained an American flag, a Maryland state flag, a photo of Henson, two articles written about him, and an inscribed bronze plaque commemorating Henson’s achievements.