Sir John Franklin.—Early life.—First land expedition of
1819-1821.—Journey from York Factory to Cumberland House.—Reach
Fort Providence.—Winter at Fort Enterprise.—Explorations.—5550
miles.—Hardship.—Starvation.—Return.—Second land
journey.—1825.—Winter quarters at Great Bear Lake.—Descent
of the Mackenzie River to the Polar Sea.—1200 miles of coast
added to map.—The last journey of Sir John Franklin, 1845.—The
_Erebus_ and _Terror_.—Last seen in Melville Bay.
No name holds more romantic association with Arctic history than that of
Sir John Franklin. What a career, what love of adventure, what hardships
endured with heroic fortitude, what leadership that could inspire others
to passionate loyalty, and superhuman endurance under unspeakable trials,
and what a _fate_!
Let us review briefly a life that stands in the foremost rank of naval
history, not so much by great achievement, as by that particular charm of
character, indefinable and subtle, that is based on those great qualities
of tolerance, justice, loyalty, simplicity, and warm affections.
John Franklin, the youngest son of twelve children, was born in the
small market town of Spilsby, Lincolnshire, April 16, 1786. He was early
destined for the church and educated at St. Ives, and later at Louth
Grammar School. A holiday jaunt with a young companion, twelve miles to
the shores of the North Sea, with its overwhelming grandeur, changed his
career and decided him for the life of a sailor.
The shrewd old father, with that acute knowledge of the short-lived
enthusiasms of youth, put him to test, and at fourteen years of age
young John served on a merchantman bound for Lisbon. Undaunted by the
hard berth of a sailor lad, we find him in 1801 on the quarter-deck of
the _Polephemus_, under Captain Lanford, leading in line at the battle of
Copenhagen, Lord Nelson’s hardest fought battle.
His iron will, ever more firm in its determination for a life
of adventure, secured him later a berth in the discovery ship
_Investigator_, exploring the coast of Australia, where Franklin acquired
valuable astronomical and surveying skill under his able relative,
Captain Flinders.
Transferred to the _Porpoise_, which, in company with the _Cato_, was
wrecked on a coral reef off the coast of Australia, August 18, 1803, the
lad, with one hundred and fifty others, spent fifty days on a strip of
sand only four feet above water. Captain Flinders, after making his way
250 leagues to Port Jackson in an open boat, rescued his companions.
Franklin finally reached Canton, where he secured passage to England in
the _Earl Camden_, East-Indiaman, under Sir Nathaniel Dance, commodore of
the China fleet.
An engagement with the French squadron occurred in February, 1804, at
which young Franklin rendered valuable service as signal midshipman.
On his return to England he was assigned to the _Bellerophon_. At the
battle of Trafalgar, he gallantly stood on the poop, with the dead and
dying falling beside him, attending to the signals, with a coolness and
accuracy that won him the unstinted admiration of his comrades.
For the next two years he served under Admirals Cornwallis, St. Vincent,
and Stratham; then for six years in the _Bedford_.
In the disastrous attack upon New Orleans, Franklin commanded the boats
in a fight with the enemy’s gunboats; he captured one of them and
suffered a slight wound in the shoulder in a hand-to-hand encounter.
[Illustration: JOHN FRANKLIN]
He was promoted to first lieutenant for gallant service and assigned to
the _Forth_, which, after the abdication of Napoleon and the restoration
of the Bourbons, conveyed the Duchess d’Angouleme back to France.
[Sidenote: _SIR JOHN FRANKLIN_]
It is not surprising that after such a varied and distinguished career,
Franklin should be one of the first to enter with whole-souled enthusiasm
into the renewed interest shown by England in Arctic discovery and
exploration.
Of the Buchan expedition in which Franklin was second in command, we
already know the history. The succeeding expeditions, though spoken of
as failures in their main object, won for him a renown quite unique in
Arctic honours, and the last, so tragically fatal in its results, did
more, through the numberless searching parties sent out to discover news
of the missing ships, to extend the world’s scientific knowledge and
geographical accuracy of Arctic America, than could possibly have been
accomplished had the expedition been a success.
Before taking up in detail the journeys of Sir John Franklin, it might be
well to make note of a side-light in his remarkable character. To this
man a career meant the paramount ambition of life, a passion stronger
than the love of woman, of family, of home or physical comforts. After
the return of the Buchan and Franklin expedition, the gentle poetess,
Anne Porden, who had written “Viels, or Triumph of Constancy,” the “Cœur
de Lion,” and a short poem on the Arctic expedition just returned,
visited the _Trent_ and met the gallant John Franklin in the full blush
of his youthful manhood. He fell in love, and upon his return from his
first land expedition, in 1823, they were married, but with the distinct
understanding that sweet Anne should “never, under any circumstances,
seek to turn her husband aside from the duty he owed his country and his
career.” And she kept her word, but at what sacrifice!
In June of the following year a daughter was born to them, but the
mother never regained her health; a few months later, putting in John
Franklin’s hand a silken flag to be carried north to victory, the work
of her dying fingers, she courageously bade him God-speed, and he
started, amid the applause of an enthusiastic nation, upon that second
journey—little guessing she, too, was about to embark upon the great
unknown.
“My instructions, in substance,” writes Franklin of the first land
expedition of 1819-1821, “informed me that the main object of the
expedition was that of determining the latitude and longitude of the
northern coast of North America, and the trending of that coast from the
mouth of the Coppermine River to the eastern extremity of that continent.”
He was authorized to take counsel with the Hudson Bay officials, and plan
his course accordingly. In fact, much was left to his own discretion, and
before leaving England he was fortunate enough to go over the details
of the proposed journey with Sir Alexander Mackenzie, the only living
English explorer who had visited that coast.
Accompanied by Dr. Richardson, surgeon and naturalist (later Sir John
Richardson), Admiralty Midshipman George Back (later Sir George Back),
Robert Hood, and another Englishman, John Hepburn, Franklin sailed from
Gravesend in the _Prince of Wales_, May 23, 1819.
On reaching York Factory, the principal depot of the Hudson Bay Company,
he found an unfortunate state of affairs existing between them and the
Northwest Company. A bitter rivalry had resulted in the detention at York
Factory of certain partners of the other company, and the result of this
unfortunate quarrel had serious results upon his own future.
[Sidenote: _JOURNEY TO CUMBERLAND HOUSE_]
He was advised to make for Cumberland House, and later through a chain
of posts to the shores of Great Slave Lake. With only one steersman
and a boat so small that many of the provisions were in consequence
left behind, Franklin made his start up the Hayes River, September 9.
Sailing was frequently varied by the arduous labour of tracking, and not
unfrequently a portage was found necessary, which added to the fatigues
and discouragements of the day.
At one of the outposts of the Hudson Bay Company, they were again obliged
to leave some of their stores under promise that these would be forwarded
in the spring, and later, at Swampy Lake, the tenants of the depot gave
them a supply of mouldy pemmican, which of course had to be thrown away
later. Thus from the outset the expedition laboured under the fatal
handicap of insufficient stores.
At Oxford House, Holy Lake, they secured some good pemmican and also
fish, and, as the season was advancing, they pushed onward. They finally
reached the mouth of the Saskatchewan, and, following the river, they
first arrived at Little River, then Pine Island Lake, and at last, on
October 23, Cumberland House. Already ice had impeded their journey, and
here they determined to winter, at the invitation of Governor Williams.
Impatient to be on his way, and desirous of securing guides, hunters,
interpreters, and stores for the journey to the sea, Franklin,
accompanied by Back and Hepburn, started, January 19, 1820, for Fort
Chipewyan, with provisions for fifteen days. After a winter’s journey of
eight hundred and fifty-seven miles, they reached their destination.
The various posts at which they stopped supplied them with only a
limited amount of provisions, and the prospect of securing more was most
discouraging. Sickness of the Indians in the hunting season foretold
a scarcity for the following spring; moreover, the rivalry of the fur
companies and the lavish expenditure of their stores in opposition
tactics had resulted in greatly depleted food supply, so that provisions
expressly intended for Franklin were later consumed before reaching him.
The travellers had suffered greatly from the unaccustomed use of
snow-shoes, the weight of several pounds of snow clinging to the shoes
having galled and lamed their feet. Yet the journey had not been
considered as wearing as that from York Factory to Cumberland House.
The return of geese, ducks, and swans, together with the melting of the
snow and ice, now gave indications of approaching spring. Mr. Hood writes
of this time:—
“The noise made by the frogs, which this inundation produced, is almost
incredible. There is strong reason to believe that they outlive the
severity of winter. They have often been found frozen, and revived by
warmth; nor is it possible that the multitude which incessantly filled
our ears with their discordant notes could have been matured in two or
three days.”
Speaking of the resuscitation of fish, Franklin writes:—
“If in this completely frozen state, they were thawed before the fire,
they recovered their animation. This was particularly the case with the
carp, and we had occasion to observe it repeatedly, as Dr. Richardson
occupied himself in examining the structure of the different species of
fish, and was always in the winter under the necessity of thawing them
before he could cut them. We have seen a carp recover so far as to leap
about with much vigor after it had been frozen thirty-six hours.”
Richardson and Hood now joined Franklin, and the party increased by
sixteen Canadian voyageurs, a Chipewyan woman, and two interpreters,
made their way northward. It was now the middle of July, and their whole
stock of provisions consisted of hardly more than one day’s supply.
Fortunately they soon added a buffalo, and at Moose Deer Island they got
some supplies from the Hudson Bay and Northwest Company officers.
About the last of July they reached Fort Providence. From the Indian
chief Akaitcho they secured guides, the party having been increased to
twenty-nine, exclusive of three children. A journey of five hundred and
fifty-two miles was accomplished, with no little hardship. Lack of food
and other privation caused the Canadian voyageurs to break out in open
mutiny. At Fort Enterprise winter quarters were established.
[Sidenote: _WINTER AT FORT ENTERPRISE_]
Early in October, Back and a party returned to Fort Providence to arrange
for the transportation of stores expected from Cumberland House. The
stores were anxiously awaited, and it was hoped they would arrive by New
Year’s Day, 1821. In the meantime the party were subsisting for the most
part on reindeer meat, fish twice a week, and a little flour. The middle
of January seven of Back’s party returned, bringing with them as many
stores as they could haul.
A little later Back returned, having performed on foot the remarkable
journey of more than eleven hundred miles on snow-shoes, sleeping in
the open, with only the protection of a blanket and a deerskin, the
thermometer frequently at 40° and once at 57° below zero,—and passing
several days without food.
The failure of the great fur companies to keep their contracts had
resulted in almost no provisions being secured. At Fort Enterprise it
was now found necessary to curtail rations to the most meagre amount,
and many of the Indian families camped about the house were obliged to
satisfy the cravings of hunger with bones, deer’s feet, and bits of other
offal.
“When,” says Franklin, “we beheld them gnawing the pieces of hide,
and pounding the bones for the purpose of extracting some nourishment
from them by boiling, we regretted our inability to relieve them, but
little thought that we ourselves should be afterwards driven to the
necessity of eagerly collecting these same bones, a second time, from
the dung-hill.”
In July, 1821, the expedition having dragged canoes and baggage with
fifteen days’ provisions to the bank of the Coppermine, embarked upon
the main object of the enterprise. By the 25th they had doubled Cape
Barrow, and its eastern side they named Inman Harbor. The dangers and
discouragements that beset Arctic travellers soon fell to their lot.
Their stock of food, replenished with a few deer, soon became exhausted,
and the ration issued to each man was a meagre handful of pemmican and a
small portion of soup.
By the 5th of August, they had reached the Back River and then explored
Melville Sound and Bathurst Inlet. Having reached Point Turnagain, and
meeting with no Eskimos who could replenish their provisions, Franklin
was obliged to turn back, having sailed nearly six hundred geographical
miles in tracing the irregular shore of Coronation Gulf from the
Coppermine River.
[Sidenote: _STARVATION_]
Reduced to the last extremity for want of food, the last bit of pemmican
and arrowroot having formed a scanty supper, and without means of making
a fire, the forlorn party spent the fifth day of September in bed while
a snowstorm raged above them and drifted into their tent, covering their
thin blankets several inches. Of this day writes Franklin:—
“Our suffering from cold, in a comfortless canvas tent in such weather
with the temperature at 20°, and without fire, will easily be imagined;
it was, however, less than that which we felt from hunger.”
For two days they lived on a lichen known as _tripe de roche_, and on the
10th “they got a good meal by killing a musk-ox. To skin and cut up the
animal was the work of a few minutes. The contents of its stomach were
devoured upon the spot; raw intestines, which were next attacked, were
pronounced by the most delicate amongst us to be excellent.”
The effects of suffering and famine began to show themselves in the
improvidence and indifference of the men. Three fishing-nets were left
behind, and one of the canoes broken and abandoned. Mosses, an occasional
partridge, _tripe de roche_, bits of singed hide, and such marrow as
could be extracted from finds of bones of animals formed their only diet.
Though weak and lame, Back pushed forward in search of relief. One by one
the starving men fell by the wayside. Hood, suffering from the effects of
_tripe de roche_, which never agreed with him, became too exhausted to
proceed, and Dr. Richardson volunteered to remain with him. As one by one
the various members dropped down with fatigue, only five besides Franklin
were left in the advance party. These continued their weary pilgrimage,
cheered with the hope that at Fort Enterprise would be found shelter and
the much-needed supplies which had been promised them. Alas! their grief
and disappointment may be imagined upon entering this wretched depot to
find it desolate and without a vestige of provisions.
“It would be impossible,” says Franklin, “to describe our sensations
after entering this miserable abode, and discovering how we had been
neglected; the whole party shed tears, not so much for our own fate as
for that of our friends in the rear whose lives depended entirely on our
sending immediate relief from this place.”
To their surprise they found a note from Back stating that he had reached
the shelter two days before by another route and had immediately pressed
on in hope of finding the Indians, and if not, he would direct his steps
to Fort Providence, though he doubted if he and his party could reach
there in their present unfortunate condition.
Franklin and his men gathered together what could be used as food and
found several deerskins that had been thrown away the previous year and
a few bones gathered from the refuse heap. These, with _tripe de roche_,
they made into a soup and endeavoured to support life on the putrid mass.
Later on one more member of the party came in, and a day or two after
a man named Balanger of Back’s party reached camp in all but a dying
condition. He had fallen into a rapid, had come near drowning, and was
then speechless from exhaustion and exposure. When warmed, dry clothing
put on, and given a little soup, he was sufficiently restored to answer
questions.
Back had not found the Indians and was making for Fort Providence.
Thither Franklin determined to follow him with two of his men, the others
volunteering to remain until succour should be sent to them. Owing to an
unfortunate accident to his snow-shoes, Franklin was obliged to return to
camp the next day, sending on his companions alone.
The poor wretches that had been left at Fort Enterprise were in such a
weakened state that it was with difficulty that Franklin could rouse them
to any exertion.
“We saw,” writes Franklin, “a herd of reindeer sporting on the river,
about half a mile from the house; they remained there a long time, but
none of the party felt themselves strong enough to go after them, nor was
there one of us who could have fired a gun without resting it.”
Eighteen long days passed slowly by, during which they endured frightful
privations, when Dr. Richardson and Hepburn reached them, greatly
enfeebled and emaciated. “The doctor particularly remarked the sepulchral
tones of our voices, which he requested of us to make more cheerful, if
possible, unconscious that his own partook of the same key.” Hepburn
divided a partridge he had shot and, says Franklin, “I and my three
companions ravenously devoured our shares, as it was the first morsel
of flesh any of us had tasted for thirty-one days, unless, indeed, the
small, gristly particles which we found occasionally adhering to the
pounded bones may be called flesh.”
Dr. Richardson then told of the tragic death of Hood, who had been
murdered by the Iroquois, Michel, whose threatening demeanour they had
noted for some days, and whom they afterwards suspected of having put
an end to two other members of the party. Under the circumstances, as a
matter of self-preservation, it was deemed necessary to end the Indian’s
life, and this Dr. Richardson did with a pistol-shot.
The day after the arrival of Richardson and Hepburn, two of the party
died. Finally, early in November, Indian messengers sent by Back brought
the longed-for relief, the Indians “evincing humanity that would
have done honor to the most civilized people.” When the party were
sufficiently restored to health with food and kind nursing, they started
for Fort Chipewyan, where they remained until June of the following year.
In July they reached York Factory, whence three years before they had
started out.
In this remarkable journey of over five thousand five hundred and fifty
miles, human endurance and patience had been put to the uttermost test;
the wonderful courage and fortitude with which these heroes braved a fate
that threatened them at every step, make this one of the most remarkable
feats in Arctic history.
[Sidenote: _FRANKLIN’S SECOND JOURNEY_]
A more cheerful picture presents itself in Franklin’s second voyage,
and, though fortunately not so tragic as the first, it nevertheless
demonstrates his remarkable leadership.
In conjunction with the Beechey expedition in the _Blossom_ and Parry’s
expedition with the _Hecla_ and _Fury_, a third expedition was promoted
and, upon request of Franklin, put under his charge. The outline of
operations was for this party to descend the Mackenzie River to the sea,
and there to divide the force, one section to explore the coast east to
the Coppermine, while the other should take a westerly course and round
Ice Cape and, if possible, Behring Strait. Profiting by past experience,
the party were amply provisioned from the outset; in fact, a delay of
some months was required to secure the necessary amount of pemmican.
Undaunted by the hardships endured on the previous voyage, Back and
Richardson volunteered again to accompany Franklin; Mr. Kendall, a mate
in the navy, and Mr. T. Drummond, a naturalist, were also of the party.
Four carefully constructed boats were sent ahead in one of the Hudson
Bay Company’s ships, and in July, 1825, the Franklin party reached Fort
Chipewyan.
They reached Great Bear Lake without incident, and there erected winter
quarters under the direction of Back and Dease, the latter being detailed
by the Hudson Bay Company to assist the expedition. Although the season
was well advanced, Franklin set out, with a small party, to make a
six-day journey down the Mackenzie for the purpose of examining the
state of the Polar Sea. They reached an island to which he gave the name
of Garry Island, and ascended the summit, from which “the sea appeared
in all its majesty, entirely free from ice, and without any visible
obstructions to its navigation, and never was a prospect more gratifying
than that which lay open to us.” Here the silken Union Jack made by the
hands of Anne Porden was unfurled, the news of whose death had but lately
reached her husband.
“I will not,” writes Franklin, “attempt to describe my emotions as it
expanded to the breeze.”
By the 7th of September the party had returned to Fort Franklin, and the
long winter was passed in comparative comfort. Every effort was made to
amuse and interest the men, the entire number consisting of nearly fifty,
including guides, interpreters, Canadian voyageurs, and Indians.
[Sidenote: _DESCENT OF THE MACKENZIE RIVER_]
The following June, 1826, preparations were made for the important work
of the expedition. Descending the Mackenzie in four boats to the Polar
Sea, the party here divided, Captain Franklin and Lieutenant Back with
fourteen men pushing to the westward, Dr. Richardson with Mr. Kendall
assisted by ten men in two boats going in an easterly direction toward
the Coppermine River.
Soon after parting, Franklin’s party had an unfortunate encounter
with Eskimos, who pillaged their stores and caused them considerable
annoyance. Making his way westward, he encountered dirty weather and
penetrating fogs, which kept the poor shivering men perpetually enveloped
in moisture. However, he reached latitude 70° 24´ N., longitude 149° 37´
W., which point of land he named after Lieutenant Back. He had surveyed
three hundred and seventy-four miles of coast.
It was now deemed advisable to return, and by September 31 the party
reached Fort Franklin, where Richardson and his party had returned some
days earlier after a successful voyage of five hundred miles, or nine
hundred and two by the coast-line.
The party under Richardson had been favoured with good weather, and,
though detained by an occasional storm, were on the whole most fortunate.
One of these shelters, Refuge Cove, Dr. Richardson describes:—
“Myriads of mosquitoes, which reposed among the grass, rose in clouds
when disturbed, and gave us much annoyance. Many snow birds were hatching
on the point; and we saw swans, Canada geese, eider, king, Arctic, and
surf ducks; several glaucous, silvery, black-headed, and ivory gulls,
together with terns and northern divers. Some laughing geese passed
to the northward in the evening, which may be considered as a sure
indication of land in that direction.”
During the second winter passed at Fort Franklin, the thermometer fell
as low as 58° below zero. The Englishmen spent their time in making
scientific observations and completing their data and records. Food and
warmth, combined with good health, made it pass comparatively quickly,
and in the spring the party made their way back to England.
Honours of the most distinguished character awaited Franklin upon his
return. To the map of North America he had added no less than twelve
hundred miles, for which the nation rendered him enthusiastic applause.
In 1829 he was knighted, Oxford conferred on him the degree of D.C.L.,
and the Geographical Society of Paris awarded him a gold medal.
[Sidenote: _LAST JOURNEY OF SIR JOHN FRANKLIN_]
In his second marriage Franklin was most fortunate in winning a cultured,
travelled woman of wealth, Jane Griffin, whose sympathies were entirely
in harmony with his own, and whose devotion to his memory kept alive for
twelve years the interest of the world in ceaseless efforts to ascertain
his fate. The succeeding years until the last ill-fated voyage were
most happily divided between a cruise on the Mediterranean, in which
Franklin commanded the _Rainbow_ with such pleasure to the crew and
officers that the ship won the cheerful sobriquet of _Celestial Rainbow_
and the _Paradise of Franklin_, and the governorship of the colony of
Van Diemen’s Land, or Tasmania, a post he held for seven years with
admirable success. Franklin had only been a few months in England when
the Admiralty, through Sir John Barrow, for many years an enthusiastic
promoter of Arctic enterprise, decided upon another expedition to effect
the discovery of the Northwest Passage. It is recorded that the First
Lord of the Admiralty, Lord Haddington, in conversing with Sir Edward
Parry upon the advisability of offering Franklin the post of commanding
officer, remarked:—
“I see Franklin is sixty years old. Ought we to let him go?” to which
Parry answered,—
“My lord, he is the best man for the post I know, and if you don’t let
him go, he will, I am certain, die of disappointment.”
In an interview with Franklin, Lord Haddington spoke again of his age
being sixty, and added,—
“You might be content with your laurels, after having done so much for
your country,” to which Franklin replied with all the eagerness of youth,—
“No, no! my lord, only fifty-nine!”
Lord Brougham, when told that the command had been accepted by Franklin,
remarked,—
“Arctic work gets into the blood of these men. They _can’t help_ going
again if they get a chance.”
The _Erebus_ and _Terror_ were both ships that had seen many years’
service in Arctic and Antarctic seas. They were provisioned for three
years and supplied with every facility for scientific and geographical
observations. The combined crews and officers number one hundred and
thirty-eight souls. In company with the transport, _Barreto Junior_, the
expedition sailed from Greenhithe on the 19th of May, 1845.
The 4th of July, they reached Whale Fish Island, near Disco, in
Greenland, and here the _Barreto Junior_ transferred to the _Erebus_ and
_Terror_ her extra stores, returning to England with the last message
from Franklin ever received by the Admiralty.
“The ships are now complete with supplies of every kind for three years;
they are therefore very deep, but happily we have no reason to expect
much sea as we proceed further.”
With confidence and enthusiasm, John Franklin turned to the north, “much
better in health,” Lieutenant Fairholme had written, “than when we left
home, and really looks ten years younger. He takes an active part in
everything that goes on, and his long experience in such service makes
him a most valuable adviser.”
On the 26th of July, the _Prince of Wales_, a whaling vessel, saw the
two ships in Melville Bay, waiting a favourable opportunity for pushing
through the “middle ice.” Signals were exchanged and an invitation
extended to Franklin to dine with the captain of the whaling ship. A
breeze springing up, the _Erebus_ and _Terror_ parted company with the
_Prince of Wales_.
As if alluringly beckoned by that fatal enchantress, the “Lady of the
Mists,” Sir John Franklin and his gallant crew silently glided into the
unknown, and from that hour were lost to the world forever.