MARCUS BAKER 



September 23, 1849 -December i2 > i 9°3 



On Saturday morning, December 12, Mr Marcus Baker died very suddenly of 

 heart failure at his residence in Washington. Mr Baker was one of the fifteen 

 original signers of the certificate of incorporation of the National Geographic Society, 

 January 2j, 1888. He was elected a member of the Board of Managers at the first 

 meeting of the Society and has served continuously on the Board ever since. He was 

 a member of the Executive Committee of the Board and had for many years been 

 chairman of the Committee on Admissions. He had given freely to the Society of his 

 time and energy ', and his exceeding good judgment had greatly helped to mould and 

 guide the policies and purposes of the Society during the sixteen years of its history. 

 He has left a vacancy on the Board of Managers and in the Society which it will be 

 impossible to fill. 



At a meeting of the National Geographic Society December 18, addresses in 

 memory of Mr Baker were made by Dr Wm. H. Dall, who has known Mr Baker 

 since he began his eminent career as a geographer in 1873, and by Dr L. A. Bauer. 

 Dr Bauer paid a tribute to the important contributions to magnetic science by Mr Baker 

 while Director of the U. S. Coast and Geodetic Survey Magnetic Observatory at Los 

 Angeles. Dr Dall's address is published below : 



In 1 87 1 I undertook a geographical 

 reconnaissance of the Aleutian region 

 of Alaska for the U. S. Coast and Geo- 

 detic Survey. Our first season's work 

 extended from August, 1871, to Octo- 

 ber, 1872, and on our return to San 

 Francisco n\y associate, M. W. Har- 

 rington, astronomer and mathematician 

 of the party, returned to the East. Dur- 

 ing the thirteen months we had spent 

 on our little 75-ton surveying cutter, 

 we had received two batches of mail. 

 Chicago was burned, the six weeks' 

 war on the continent took place, and 

 we knew nothing of it for six months. 

 Our work was carried on in a small 

 sailing vessel. The region was practi- 

 cally uncharted, the existing charts 

 known to be most imperfect, the un- 

 surveyed waters bristling with reefs 

 and shoals, the region one of the fog- 

 giest and most tempestuous in any 

 ocean. We had to purchase and re- 

 build for our work a new vessel, guided 

 by the fierce experiences endured in 

 the old one. The country at that time 

 was generally regarded as a wilderness 



of ice and fog. No man was likely to 

 volunteer for work in such a region and 

 under such conditions unless he was 

 possessed of an adventurous spirit and 

 a genuine interest in his work. 



From the University of Michigan 

 came a young man whose first glimpse 

 of the ocean was through the Golden 

 Gate. His kindly and cheerful nature 

 and lively enthusiasm captured our af- 

 fections at the start. Thoroughly based 

 in mathematics and with a working 

 knowledge of field astronomy, he soon 

 mastered the difficulties of the transition 

 from theory to practice. Penned for 

 nine months of the year in a little 

 cabin, elbow to elbow, one soon comes 

 to know the inmost qualities of one's 

 associates. There began an intimacy 

 which was only broken by death. 



Our work was very different from the 

 ordinary surveying in an average cli- 

 mate. The stars were invisible a great 

 part of the summer, owing to the high 

 latitude. The sun was almost con- 

 stantly veiled in fog or mist, and one 

 had to take advantage of every gleam 



