Early nineteenth century: Ross and Parry, May 3, 1818.—Object
of voyage, search for Northwest Passage through Davis Strait
and explore bays and channels described by Baffin.—Met natives
near Melville Bay.—The discovery by Ross of the famous Crimson
Cliffs.—Enters Lancaster Sound.—Advance barred by imaginary
Crocker Mountains.—Return of expedition to England.—Buchan
and Franklin North Polar expedition _via_ Greenland and
Spitzbergen.—_Dorothea_ and _Trent_ in Magdalena Bay, June
3, 1818.—Reached high latitude of 80° 37´ N.—Course directed
to east coast of Greenland.—Disastrous battle with the
ice.—_Dorothea_ disabled.—Hasty return to England.
As a result of the many disastrous voyages to the Arctic, there was a
long period of inactivity in polar research, which continued for the
first sixteen years of the nineteenth century. Interest was revived,
however, by the astounding report that ice which had cut off the Danish
colonies from communication with their native country for centuries, had
suddenly become free, and that certain Greenland whalers had sailed to
the seventieth and eightieth parallel.
[Sidenote: _ROSS AND PARRY_]
The British Admiralty in conjunction with the Council of the Royal
Society decided to fit out two expeditions: One under Captain John Ross
and Lieutenant Edward Parry, whose object was to force a northwest
passage through Davis Strait and to explore the bays and channels
described by Baffin at the head of the immense bay that bears his name.
The second expedition under Buchan and Franklin was to direct its course
by way of Greenland and Spitzbergen in search of the Pole, and make its
way through Behring Strait out to the Pacific.
The four ships were the best equipped for Arctic research that had ever
been sent out from England, and the commanders were instructed to collect
all possible information that would promote scientific knowledge in
natural history, geology, meteorology, and astronomy as to the special
phenomena existing in high northern latitudes.
On the 3d of May, 1818, the two expeditions parted company in Brassa
Sound, Shetland, and sailed for their respective destinations. The
_Isabella_ and _Alexander_, under the command of Ross and Parry, reached
Wygat Sound on the 17th of June, where they were detained by the ice in
company with forty-five whalers, until the 20th. They made observations
from the shore of Wygat Island, which they found to be misplaced on the
maps by no less than five degrees.
By warping and towing they made slow progress, narrowly missing
destruction by the pressure of huge ice-floes, but finally making the
open water. High mountains were descried on the north side of this bay
called by Ross, Melville Bay, the precipices varying in height from one
thousand to two thousand feet.
An Eskimo, John Sacheuse, who acted as interpreter to the expedition,
went ashore and brought back with him a dozen or more natives, who were
much entertained by the hospitality provided for them by the ship’s
company. After partaking of tea and biscuits, a dance was held on the
deck, and of this Captain Ross gives an amusing description:—
“Sacheuse’s mirth and joy exceeded all bounds: and with a good-humored
officiousness, justified by the important distinction which his superior
knowledge now gave him, he performed the office of master of ceremonies.
An Eskimo M.C. to a ball on the deck of one of H. M. Ships in the icy
seas of Greenland, was an office somewhat new, but Nash himself could
not have performed his functions in a manner more appropriate. It did
not belong even to Nash to combine in his own person, like Jack, the
discordant qualifications of seaman, interpreter, draughtsman, and master
of ceremonies to a ball, with those of an active fisher of seals and a
hunter of white bears. A daughter of the Danish resident, (by an Eskimo
woman,) about eighteen years of age, and by far the best looking of
the half-caste group, was the object of Jack’s particular attentions;
which being observed by one of our officers, he gave him a lady’s shawl,
ornamented with spangles, as an offering for her acceptance. He presented
it in a most respectful and not ungraceful manner to the damsel, who
bashfully took a pewter ring from her finger and gave it to him in
return, rewarding him, at the same time, with an eloquent smile, which
could leave no doubt on our Eskimo’s mind that he had made an impression
on her heart.”
Near Cape Dudley Digges a curious condition of the ice was noted by
Captain Ross as follows:—
“We have discovered that the snow on the face of the cliffs presents
an appearance both novel and interesting, being apparently stained or
covered by some substance which gave it a deep crimson color. This snow
was penetrated in many places to a depth of ten or twelve feet by the
coloring matter.”
Passing Smith and Jones Sound, Ross reached the entrance of Lancaster
Sound by the last of August. “On the 31st,” he writes, “we discovered,
for the first time, that the land extended from the south two-thirds
across this apparent Strait, obscured its real figure. During the day
much interest was excited on board by the appearance of the Strait.
The general opinion, however, was that it was only an inlet. The land
was partially seen extending across; the yellow sky was perceptible.
At a little before four o’clock A.M., the land was seen at the bottom
of the inlet by the officers of the watch, but before I got on deck a
space of about seven degrees of the compass was obscured by the fog. The
land which I then saw was a high ridge of mountains extending directly
across the bottom of the inlet. This chain appeared extremely high in
the centre. Although a passage in this direction appeared hopeless, I
determined to explore it completely. I therefore continued all sail. Mr.
Beverly, the surgeon, who was the most sanguine, went up to the crow’s
nest, and at twelve reported to me that before it became thick he had
seen the land across the bay, except for a very short space. At three, I
went on deck; it completely cleared for ten minutes, when I distinctly
saw land around the bottom of the bay, forming a chain of mountains
connected with those which extended along the north and south side. This
land appeared to be at the distance of eight leagues, and Mr. Lewis,
the master, and James Haig, leading man, being sent for, they took its
bearings, which were inserted in the log. At this moment I also saw a
continuity of ice at the distance of seven miles, extending from one side
of the bay to the other, between the nearest cape to the north, which I
named after Sir George Warrenden, and that to the south, which was named
after Viscount Castlereagh. The mountains, which occupied the centre, in
a north and south direction, were named Crocker’s Mountains, after the
Secretary to the Admiralty.”
The much-disputed “Crocker Mountains” brought the navigator ridicule and
discredit upon his return to England. The return was decided upon on
October 1, that date being the limit to which his instructions permitted
Captain Ross to remain in northern latitudes.
[Illustration: CAPTAIN JOHN ROSS, R.N.]
Although the extraordinary blunder cost Captain Ross reputation and the
confidence of his friends, he had nevertheless rendered valuable addition
to Arctic knowledge; his scientific observations had been unremitting and
accurate. He had mapped the west coast of Davis Strait, had advanced
through Baffin Bay, thereby proving the claims of that famous old
mariner, and had been the first to meet the Eskimos of the far north, who
were to render such valuable assistance to future explorers.
The progress of the _Dorothea_ and the _Trent_ under the respective
commands of Captain David Buchan and Lieutenant-Commander John Franklin
(later Sir John Franklin) was delayed by fog and storm until they sighted
Cherie Island, latitude 74° 33´ N., and longitude 17° 40´ E., famous for
its herds of walruses from which the Muscovy Company had derived much
profit by sending ships to the island for oil, the crew capturing as many
as a thousand animals in the course of six or seven hours.
The ships now encountered small floes and huge masses of ice, which
augmented the difficulties of progress, and this Lieutenant Beechey,
the clever artist and interesting narrator of the voyage, describes as
follows:—
“There was, besides, on the occasion an additional motive for remaining
up; very few of us had ever seen the sun at midnight, and this night
happening to be particularly distorted by refraction, and sweeping
majestically along the northern horizon, it was the object of imposing
grandeur, which riveted to the deck some of our crew, who would perhaps
have beheld with indifference the less imposing effect of the icebergs;
or it might have been a combination of both these phenomena; for it
cannot be denied that the novelty occasioned by the floating masses was
materially heightened by the singular effect produced by the very low
altitude at which the sun cast his fiery beams over the icy surface of
the sea.
“The rays were too oblique to illuminate more than the inequalities of
the floes, and falling thus partially on the grotesque shapes, either
really assumed by the ice or distorted by the unequal refraction of
the atmosphere, so betrayed the imagination that it required no great
exertion of fancy to trace in various directions architectural edifices,
grottos, and caves here and there glittering as if with precious metals.
So generally, indeed, was the deception admitted, that, in directing the
route of the vessel from aloft, we for a while deviated from our nautical
phraseology, and shaped our course for a church, a tower, a bridge, or
some similar structure, instead of for humps of ice, which were usually
designated by less elegant appellations.
“After sighting the southern promontory of Spitzbergen, the two ships
were parted in a severe gale. The snow fell in heavy showers, and
several tons’ weight of ice accumulated about the sides of the brig (the
_Trent_) and formed a complete casing to the planks, which secured an
additional layer at each plunge of the vessel. So great, indeed, was
the accumulation about the bows, that we were obliged to cut it away
repeatedly with axes to relieve the bow-sprit from the enormous weight
that was attached to it, and the ropes were so thickly covered with ice,
that it was necessary to beat them with large sticks to keep them in a
state of readiness for any evolution that might be rendered necessary,
either by the appearance of ice, to leeward or by a change of wind.”
By the 3d of June the ships were reunited in Magdalena Bay. Surrounding
this harbour of refuge are high mountains rising precipitously about
three thousand feet high, the deep valleys filled with immense beds
of snow. The temperature is particularly mild on the western coast of
Spitzbergen, and in consequence there is a luxury of Alpine plants,
grasses, and lichens, also of animal life, reindeer, and flocks of birds,
such as the auk, willock, gulls, cormorants, also walruses and seals.
There are numerous glaciers from which huge pieces would occasionally
break away. Mr. Beechey describes in a most interesting way the fall of
one of these extraordinary masses of ice:—
[Sidenote: _BUCHAN AND FRANKLIN_]
“The first was occasioned by the discharge of a musket at about half
a mile’s distance from the glacier. Immediately after the report of
the gun, a noise resembling thunder was heard in the direction of the
iceberg (glacier) and in a few seconds more an immense piece broke
away, and fell headlong into the sea. The crew of the launch, supposing
themselves beyond the reach of its influence, quietly looked upon the
scene, when presently a sea arose and rolled toward the shore with such
rapidity, that the crew had not time to take any precautions, and the
boat was in consequence washed upon the beach, and completely filled by
the succeeding wave. As soon as their astonishment had subsided, they
examined the boat, and found her so badly stove that it became necessary
to repair her in order to return to the ship. They had also the curiosity
to measure the distance the boat had been carried by the wave, and found
it to be ninety-six feet.”
Describing a second avalanche he writes:—
“This occurred on a remarkably fine day, when the quietness of the bay
was first interrupted by the noise of the falling body. Lieutenant
Franklin and myself had approached one of these stupendous walls of ice,
and were endeavoring to search into the innermost recess of a deep cavern
that was near the foot of the glacier, when we heard a report as if of
a cannon, and, turning to the quarter whence it proceeded, we perceived
an immense piece of the front of the berg sliding down from the height
of two hundred feet at least into the sea, and dispersing the water in
every direction, accompanied by a loud, grinding noise, and followed by a
quantity of water which being previously lodged in the fissures now made
its escape in numberless small cataracts over the front of the glacier.”
So great was the disturbance of the waters by this great falling mass
that the _Dorothea_ was seen to be careening at a distance of four miles.
After it became somewhat settled, they approached it and found it to
be nearly a quarter of a mile in circumference. “Knowing its specific
gravity and making fair allowance for its inequalities, its weight was
computed at 421,660 tons.”
The ships left Magdalena Bay, June 7, and made their slow way through
brash ice which became thicker and more impenetrable until a fortunate
breeze dispersed it. Sailing in a westerly direction, they encountered
several whale-ships, which reported others beset by the ice in that
direction. Captain Buchan changed his course and stood to the northward,
passing Cloven Cliff, an isolated rock, marking the northwestern boundary
of Spitzbergen. Near Red Bay they were stopped by the ice, and the
channel by which the vessels had entered became entirely closed. The
ships were here hemmed in, in almost the same position where Baffin,
Hudson, Poole, Captain Phipps, and all the early voyagers to this quarter
had been stopped. Of their perilous situation, Lieutenant Beechey writes:—
“The ice soon began to press heavily upon us, and, to add to our
difficulties, we found the water so shallow that the rocks were plainly
discovered under the bottoms of the ships. It was impossible, however, by
any exertion on our part, to improve the situation of the vessels. They
were as firmly fixed in the ice as if they had formed part of the pack,
and we could only hope that the current would not drift them into still
shallower water, and damage them against the ground.”
It was now found necessary to attach the ships to floes by ice-anchors,
which was done with considerable exertion.
Taking advantage of a break in the ice, they reached Vogel Sang about
June 28, where the crew were fortunate enough to secure forty reindeer
and plenty of eider-ducks.
On the 6th of July, Captain Buchan, finding the ice conditions
favourable, determined to make as far an advance to the north as
possible. By most arduous labours in warping and tracking, etc., he
attained a latitude of 80° 34´ N., but, though attached to floes, he
found himself being carried to the southward by the current. On the 15th
and 16th of July, both ships suffered considerable ice pressure. The nine
days following, the crew worked night and day to free the ships and get
into open water.
Having given the ice a fair trial and proved it unnavigable, Buchan
turned his attention toward the eastern coast of Greenland, intending,
if it proved impenetrable there, to round the south cape of Spitzbergen
and attempt to make an advance between that island and Nova Zembla. A
terrific gale struck them the 30th of July, which brought down the ice
upon them and threatened their immediate destruction. Of this encounter
Lieutenant Beechey gives a most vivid description:—
“In order to avert the effects of this as much as possible, a cable was
cut up into thirty feet lengths, and these, with plates of iron four feet
square, which had been supplied to us as fenders, together with some
walrus hides, were hung round the vessels, especially about the bows.
The masts, at the same time, were secured with additional ropes, and the
hatches were battened and nailed down. By the time these precautions had
been taken, our approach to the breakers only left us the alternative of
either permitting the ships to be drifted broadside against the ice, and
so to take their chance, or of endeavoring to force fairly into it by
putting before the wind. At length, the hopeless state of a vessel placed
broadside against so formidable a body became apparent to all, and we
resolved to attempt the latter expedient.”
Beechey, in describing the appalling scene, continues:—
“No language, I am convinced, can convey an adequate idea of the terrific
grandeur of the effect now produced by the collision of the ice and
the tempestuous ocean. The sea, violently agitated and rolling its
mountainous waves against an opposing body, is at all times a sublime
and awful sight; but when, in addition, it encounters immense masses,
which it has set in motion with a violence equal to its own, its effect
is prodigiously increased. At one moment it bursts upon these icy
fragments and buries them many feet beneath its wave, and the next, as
the buoyancy of the depressed body struggles for reascendancy, the water
rushes in foaming cataracts over the edges, while every individual mass,
rocking and laboring in its bed, grinds against and contends with its
opponent, until one is either split with the shock or upheaved upon the
surface of the other. Nor is this collision confined to any particular
spot; it is going on as far as the sight can reach; and when from this
convulsive scene below, the eye is turned to the extraordinary appearance
of the blink in the sky above, where the unnatural clearness of a calm
and silvery atmosphere presents itself, bounded by a dark, hard line of
stormy clouds, such as this moment lowered over our masts, as if to mark
the confines within which the efforts of man would be of no avail, the
reader may imagine the sensation of awe which must accompany that of
grandeur in the mind of the beholder.” And he continues: “If ever that
fortitude of seamen was fairly tried, it was assuredly not less so on
this occasion; and I will not conceal the pride I felt in witnessing the
bold and decisive tone in which the orders were issued by the commander
(the present Captain Sir John Franklin) of our little vessel, and the
promptitude and steadiness with which they were executed by the crew.”
As the vessel rapidly approached the dangerous wall of ice, each person
instinctively secured his own hold, and, with his eyes fixed upon the
masts, awaited in breathless anxiety the moment of concussion. “It soon
arrived; the brig (_Trent_), cutting her way through the light ice, came
in violent contact with the main body. In an instant we all lost our
footing; the masts bent with the impetus, and the cracking timbers from
below bespoke a pressure which was calculated to awaken our serious
apprehensions. The vessel staggered under the shock, and for a moment
seemed to recoil; but the next wave, curling up under her counter, drove
her about her own length within the margin of the ice, where she gave one
roll, and was immediately thrown broadside to the wind by the succeeding
wave, which beat furiously against her stern, and brought her lee side in
contact with the main body, leaving her weather side exposed at the same
time to a piece of ice about twice her own dimensions. This unfortunate
occurrence prevented the vessel penetrating sufficiently far into the ice
to escape the effect of the gale, and placed her in a situation where she
was assailed on all sides by battering-rams, if I may use the expression,
every one of which contested the small space which she occupied, and
dealt such unrelenting blows, that there appeared to be scarcely any
possibility of saving her from foundering. Literally tossed from piece
to piece, we had nothing left but patiently abide the issue; for we
could scarcely keep our feet, much less render any assistance to the
vessel. The motion, indeed, was so great, that the ship’s bell, which,
in the heaviest gale of wind, had never struck of itself, now tolled
so continually, that it was ordered to be muffled, for the purpose of
escaping the unpleasant association it was calculated to produce.
“In anticipation of the worst, we determined to attempt placing the
launch upon the ice under the lee, and hurried into her such provisions
and stores as could at the moment be got at. Serious doubts were
reasonably entertained of the boat being able to live among the confused
mass by which we were encompassed; yet as this appeared to be our only
refuge, we clung to it with all the eagerness of a last resource.”
It was only too evident that she could not long survive the critical
position in which she was placed and that the only salvation lay in
penetrating still farther into the ice. To this end, more sail was
spread, and, with the added power, she righted herself, split a small
field of ice, fourteen feet in thickness, and effected a passage
for herself between the pieces. On the gale abating, both ships
reached the open sea, but were greatly disabled, the _Dorothea_ in a
foundering condition. In this useless state they made for Fair Haven, in
Spitzbergen, where they underwent necessary repairs. Lieutenant Franklin
urgently requested to be allowed to return to the interesting quest which
they had been obliged to abandon, but this being impossible, owing to the
shattered condition of the ships, the expedition put to sea the end of
August and reached England about the middle of October, 1818.