On a cold night in February a century ago, the distinguished members of the Twentieth Century Club gathered in a dining room at Bangor House for a banquet and an address by one of the most famous men in the world. Even though he had yet to make it to the North Pole, Cmdr. Robert Peary was already considered a great Arctic explorer. And because he had been raised and educated in Maine, his presence had a special significance for residents of the Pine Tree State.

The speech he delivered that night was one of two he gave in the Queen City that winter, one before and one after the launch of his new exploration ship, which was being built on Verona Island, on a channel in the Penobscot River across from Bucksport. He was still trying to raise money to pay for the ship and for his next expedition, so any donations that might materialize from his ability to entertain these wealthy sons of Bangor would be welcome.

His stay, however, would be short, between 7:10 and 8 p.m., because he was journeying to Boston, as he had done many times that fall and winter during the construction of his new vessel.

The second speech Peary was slated to give on March 28, would be a more democratic affair. Sponsored by the Home Culture Club, it was to be held at City Hall for anyone who could afford the 50-cent admission. That was a higher price than the most expensive tickets for the play that week at the Bangor Opera House, but less than the top price for a ticket to hear the Bangor Symphony Orchestra.

The group that had assembled to hear Peary on Feb. 6, 1905, included such men of progress as Franklin W. Cram, president of the Bangor & Aroostook Railroad; Edwin G. Merrill, president of Merrill Trust Co., David N. Beach, president of Bangor Theological Society; William Waltz, dean of the University of Maine Law School and a host of other business and professional men. Worn down by one of the coldest winters in memory, they doubtlessly were looking for inspiration to help them along in their own mundane endeavors.

The Bangor Daily News reporter covering Peary’s talk that night portrayed the explorer as a superhero capable of inspiring men to exceed the bounds of human endurance: “One of the greatest explorers the world has ever known is of medium size, quiet, modest assuming, yet possessed of a certain virility and enthusiasm which mark him for what he is – a man of steel, of indomitable will, ready to meet and, if possible, conquer the thousand-and-one obstacles which rise, apparently insurmountable in the pathway of his ambition.”

The commander’s speech did not disappoint the assembled audience, bringing “the dignified members of an exceedingly dignified organization to their feet in a mighty outburst of cheers” when it was over.

Here are some excerpts.

“There is nothing abnormal my friends about the North Pole. … I do not expect … to find a red-and-white barber pole – [laughter] – nor do I expect my eyeballs to be seared by anything supernatural or uncanny or strange. My desire to reach the pole is a sentimental one, if you will – a desire to plant the Stars and Stripes of Old Glory where the foot of man has never trod – where the strongest, the noblest, the bravest have yet to penetrate, and trying, have left their dead bodies on the way …

“And what, should I find the pole, will be the practical result? Why should I make this almost superhuman effort – an effort marked by hardship and danger, and ending very possibly in death? In the first place, the result will be of value from a geographical point of view. There are now three million square miles at the pole of which we know nothing – three million miles of land and sea which stand as a challenge to every man with red blood in his veins and determination in his heart …

“But there is more than this. There is the prestige which I – which you – which every American would gain. Each one of you would feel a thrill of pride, I think, should an American be the first to place the Stars and Stripes upon the North Pole.”

Peary described his overly optimistic timeline for reaching the pole, and the new ship that “will belong to Maine – will be built in Maine, was designed in Maine, and will, if I am able to so arrange it, be commanded by a man from Maine! [Applause.]”

In closing, he described some physical hardships men face in the Arctic, including the darkness – “I have known men to go mad” – and the hunger – “which forces one to kneel by the body of a slaughtered bear and eat his fill upon the raw, warm meat – which makes him, when a dog has fallen in his tracks, stand off the other dogs till he himself has eaten of the flesh – this is the hunger which wolves feel, and which makes wolves of men!”

When it was over, the Hon. Henry Lord sprang to his feet. “I move,” said he, “that we give Commander Peary three cheers he will remember when standing on the pole!”

They were delivered, it is reported, with a vehemence which “woke the echoes” in West Market Square.

Then the club members lined up in single file before the speaker, and “each was favored with one tremendous grip of the muscular right hand.”

“It is probable,” the reporter speculated, that very many would have echoed the sentiment expressed to the writer: ‘If any one man in America can find the North Pole that man is no other than Commander Peary.”

It would be four more years and more failure before anyone would know. Meanwhile, Peary’s new vessel, the Roosevelt, would be launched in a few weeks and I will write about that event, which was attended by thousands of Mainers, in a future column.

Wayne E. Reilly has edited two books of Civil War era diaries and letters including “The Diaries of Sarah Jane and Emma Ann Foster: A Year in Maine During the Civil War.” He can be reached at wreilly@bangordailynews.net.