Search for Sir John Franklin.—Captain Kellett.—Captain
Moore.—Dr. Richardson.—Dr. Rae.—Sir J. C. Ross.—Mr. Parker.—Dr.
Goodsir.—Collinson and M’Clure.—The _Felix_.—_Prince
Albert._—Commanded by Charles C. Forsyth.—Captain Austin’s
squadron.—Captain Ommaney.—Lieutenant Sherard Osborn.—Commander
Cator.—Grinnell expedition under De Haven.
No tidings of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_ having reached England by the
close of 1847, great anxiety was felt as to the whereabouts and fate
of the missing ships. The government immediately took measures to
outfit three searching parties. The first was to go westward to Behring
Strait, and there meet the ships with assistance, should they have been
successful in making the object of their voyage, and for this purpose
Captain Henry Kellett commanding the _Herald_ and Captain Moore in the
ship _Plover_ left England in January, 1848.
The second was to be an overland and boat expedition with its object to
explore the coast of the Arctic Sea between the Mackenzie and Coppermine
rivers, under the leadership of that faithful companion and friend of Sir
John Franklin, Dr. Sir John Richardson, accompanied by Rae, who had but
lately returned from his memorable journey of 1846-1847.
The third expedition was under Sir James Clark Ross in the ships
_Enterprise_ and _Investigator_, with instructions to make for Lancaster
Sound and Barrow Strait, examine all tracks of the missing ships westward
and render relief if the ships should be discovered imprisoned in the ice.
Owing to the poor sailing qualities of the _Plover_ and _Herald_, the
ships were unable to reach high latitudes in time to penetrate to the
northward that season, and not until the following July, in company with
the _Nancy Dawson_, a pleasure yacht belonging to Robert Sheldon, Esq.,
did they pursue the main object of their expedition. July 18, 1849, they
left Chamisso, and on the 20th they were off Cape Lisburn; five days
later they passed Icy Point. Here they despatched the _Herald’s_ pinnace
and three other boats, with a party of twenty-five men with three months’
provisions, under command of Lieutenant Pullen, whose instructions were
to connect with the Richardson party, one division in two whale-boats to
extend the search to the Mackenzie River, ascend that river, and return
homeward by Fort Hope and York Factory; the remaining division to return
to the rendezvous of the ships at Chamisso Island.
The _Herald_ and _Plover_ cruised northward as far as the ice would
permit, then explored the coast-line in detail. On the 7th of August, the
_Herald_ sighted new territory. Running close to the island, they found
it barren, and for the most part of inaccessible granite cliffs.
The _Nancy Dawson_ and the return boats under Lieutenant Pullen rejoined
the _Herald_ by the 24th of August. They had parted company with the two
whale-boats at Dease Inlet. They had found no traces of the Franklin
expedition, but had left deposits of provisions at intervals along the
route.
The following months were spent in winter quarters, and, as soon as the
weather permitted, in careful examination of the inlets and coast from
Icy Cape to Point Barrow in the hope of finding traces of the missing
party. Disappointed at a fruitless voyage, the ships returned to England
in October, 1850.
[Sidenote: _RICHARDSON’S REPORT_]
In his official report to the Secretary of the Admiralty, Sir John
Richardson gives an excellent summary of the results of the second
expedition. He says in part:—
“In the voyage between the Mackenzie and Coppermine, I carefully executed
their lordships’ instructions with respect to the examination of the
coast-line, and became fully convinced that no ships had passed within
view of the mainland. It is, indeed, nearly impossible that they could
have done so unobserved by some of the numerous parties of Eskimos on
the look-out for whales. We were, moreover, informed by the Eskimos
of Back’s Inlet, that the ice had been pressing on their shore nearly
the whole summer; and its closely packed condition when we left it on
the 4th of September made it highly improbable that it would open for
ship navigation later in the season. I regretted extremely that the
state of the ice prevented me from crossing to Wollaston Land, and
thus completing, in one season, the whole scheme of their lordships’
instructions. The opening between Wollaston and Victoria Lands has always
appeared to me to possess great interest, for through it the flood-tide
evidently sets into Coronation Gulf, diverging to the westward by the
Dolphin and Union Strait, and to the eastward round Cape Alexander. By
the fifth clause of Sir John Franklin’s instructions, he is directed to
steer southwestward from Cape Walker, which would lead him nearly in the
direction of the strait in question. If Sir John found Barrow Strait as
open as when Sir Edward Parry passed it on four previous occasions, I am
convinced that (complying as exactly as he could with his instructions
and without looking into Wellington Sound, or other openings either to
the south or north of Barrow Strait) he pushed directly west to Cape
Walker, and from thence southwestwards. If so, the ships were probably
shut up on some of the passages between Victoria, Banks, and Wollaston
Lands.
“Being apprehensive that the boats I left on the coast would be broken
up by the Eskimos, and being, moreover, of opinion that the examination
of the opening in question might be safely and efficiently performed in
the only remaining boat I had fit for the transport from Bear Lake to the
Coppermine, I determined to entrust this important service to Mr. Rae,
who volunteered, and whose ability and zeal in the cause I cannot too
highly commend. He selected an excellent crew, all of them experienced
voyageurs and capable of finding their way back to Bear Lake without
guides, should any unforeseen accident deprive them of their leader.
“In the month of March (1849) a sufficient supply of pemmican, and other
necessary stores, with the equipments of the boat, were transported over
the snow on dog-sledges to a navigable part of the Kendall River, and
left there under the charge of two men. As soon as the Dease broke up
in June, Mr. Rae would follow, with the boat, the rest of the crew, and
a party of Indian hunters, and would descend the Coppermine River about
the middle of July, at which time the sea generally begins to break
up. He would then, as soon as possible, cross from Cape Krusenstern to
Wollaston Land, and endeavor to penetrate to the northward, erecting
signal-columns, and making deposits on conspicuous headlands, and
especially on the north shore of Banks’ Land, should he be fortunate
enough to attain that coast. He was further instructed not to hazard the
safety of his party by remaining too long on the north side of Dolphin
and Union Strait, and to be guided in his movements by the season, the
state of the ice, and such intelligence as he might obtain from the
Eskimos. He was also requested to engage one or more families of Indian
hunters to pass the summer of 1805 on the banks of the Coppermine River,
to be ready to assist any party that may direct their course that way.”
[Illustration: UPERNAVIK]
[Sidenote: _SIR JAMES CLARK ROSS_]
The 6th of July, 1848, found the _Enterprise_ and _Investigator_ of the
third expedition, at the Danish settlement of Upernavik; from this port
Sir James Clark Ross wrote a letter to the British Admiralty stating that
after passing a second winter near Port Leopold, should no traces of Sir
John Franklin’s party be discovered, he would send the _Investigator_
under Captain Bird back to England and proceed with the search alone.
This caused great uneasiness at the Admiralty, and the _North Star_ was
at once despatched with a supply of extra stores and instruction to Ross
to remain in company with the _Investigator_ and not follow out the
design expressed in his letter. The _North Star_ was further instructed
that should she fail to reach the ships, stores were to be left at the
farthest point she could reach in safety, and then she should return to
England. Though explicitly warned against getting beset in the ice, the
season of 1849 passed, and the _North Star_ did not return, thus causing
great anxiety in England as to her safety.
To return to the _Enterprise_ and _Investigator_, these two ships,
after leaving Upernavik, had found very unfavourable conditions in the
ice, which necessitated towing the ships or proceeding slowly under
light winds and calms. By the 23d of August, the ships had reached Pond
Bay, having sustained severe shocks through ice pressure and other
discouraging conditions. They kept close to the shore, firing guns and
sending up signals at frequent intervals, but no sign of Eskimos or other
human beings were discovered.
Upon reaching Possession Bay, a party was sent on shore to search for
traces of the expedition, but nothing was found except a paper left
there by Sir Edward Parry on the same day (August 30) in 1819. Again at
Cape York another party went ashore, and, though no traces were found,
a conspicuous mark was erected for the benefit of any other party that
might reach there. The ships then proceeded.
“We stood over,” writes Sir James Ross, “toward Northeast Cape until we
came in with the edge of a pack, too dense for us to penetrate, lying
between us and Leopold Island, about fourteen miles broad; we therefore
coasted the north shore of Barrow Strait, to seek a harbour further to
the westward, and to examine the numerous inlets of that shore. Maxwell
Bay, and several smaller indentations, were thoroughly explored, and,
although we got near the entrance of Wellington Channel, the firm
barrier of ice which stretched across it, and which had not broken away
this season, convinced us all was impracticable in that direction. We
now stood to the southwest to seek for a harbour near Cape Rennell,
but found a heavy body of ice extending from the west of Cornwallis
Island. Coasting along the pack during stormy and foggy weather, we had
difficulty in keeping the ships free during the nights, for I believe so
great a quantity of ice was never before seen in Barrow Strait at this
period of the season.”
By the 11th of September, the ships found winter quarters in the harbour
of Port Leopold, and almost immediately the ice pack closed in and formed
a complete barrier for the remainder of the winter. Various exploring
and surveying journeys were undertaken during this winter and the coast
carefully examined in all directions, but no trace of Franklin or his
ships was discovered.
The crew caught in traps a number of white foxes, and knowing how far
these animals will roam in search of food, the men clasped round the
animals’ necks copper collars, on which were written the position of the
ships and depots of provisions, and the creatures were set at liberty in
the hope they would be caught by some of the ill-fated party.
During April and May, Captain Ross, accompanied by Lieutenant M’Clintock
and a party of twelve men, carefully explored the coast-line of the
northern and western coast of Boothia Peninsula.
“The examination of the coast,” writes Captain Ross, “was pursued until
the fifth of June, when, having consumed more than half our provisions,
and the strength of the party being much reduced, I was reluctantly
compelled to abandon further operations, as it was, moreover, necessary
to give the men a day of rest. But that the time might not be wholly
lost, I proceeded with two hands to the extreme south point in sight from
our encampment, distant about eight or nine miles.”
During the absence of Captain Ross, other parties had explored the
vicinity of Cape Hind, and another along the western shore. This last
party under Lieutenant Robinson reached as far as Cresswell Bay, a few
miles to the southward of Fury Beach. He found the house in which Sir
John Ross had wintered in 1832-1833, with a quantity of stores and
provisions of the _Fury_, that had been there since 1827, and were in
excellent state of preservation.
Preparations were now made for leaving Port Leopold, Captain Ross’s
object being to examine Wellington Channel and, if feasible, to penetrate
as far as Melville Island. To this end it was necessary to set to work
with ice-saws and cut a channel of over two miles that the ships might
be freed. This tedious work was accomplished by the last of August, but
before leaving, a shelter was built on land, twelve months’ provisions,
a steam-launch, belonging to the _Investigator_, and such other stores
being left behind as would be found welcome to Sir John Franklin’s party
should they reach that spot. Hardly had the ships got under way when a
strong wind brought the ice down on them, and they were soon beset.
For some days it seemed as if the ships were hard fast for a dreary
winter, but the wind shifted to the westward, the whole body of ice being
driven to the eastward, and in the centre of a field of ice more than
fifty miles in circumference, the ships were carried along the southern
shore of Lancaster Sound. After passing its entrance, they drifted along
the western shore of Baffin Bay until abreast of Pond Bay, when, with a
suddenness that was all but miraculous, the field broke into innumerable
fragments, and the ships were freed.
“At once all sail was set, warps were run out from all quarters, to
assist the ship through the heavy floes, and at last the _Investigator_
and _Enterprise_ found themselves in open water.”
“It is impossible,” writes Ross, “to convey any idea of the sensation we
experienced when we found ourselves once more at liberty; many a heart
poured forth its praises and thanksgivings to Almighty God for this
unlooked-for deliverance.
“The advance of winter had now closed all the harbours against us; and
as it was impossible to penetrate to the westward through the pack from
which we had just been liberated, I made the signal to the _Investigator_
of my intention to return to England.”
Thus the three expeditions so far sent out had not met with success, and
the anxiety in England over the fate of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_ was
increasing. In March, 1848, the Admiralty offered the sum of one hundred
guineas or more to the crews of any whaling ships that should bring
accurate tidings of the missing ships and of Franklin.
In March, 1849, the British government offered another reward of twenty
thousand pounds “to such private ship, or by distribution among such
private ships, or to any exploring party or parties, of any country, as
might, in the judgment of the Board of Admiralty, have rendered efficient
assistance to Sir John Franklin, his ships, or their crews, and might
have contributed directly to extricate them from the ice.”
[Sidenote: _THE LADY FRANKLIN EXPEDITION_]
Lady Franklin, whose devotion and courage had won the admiration of the
world, offered two thousand pounds and three thousand pounds to officers
and crew of any ship that should render assistance to her husband and, if
necessary, bring Sir John Franklin and the party back to England.
In the spring of 1849, she sent out provisions and coal for the use of
the missing ships, and these were carried in the whaling ship _Truelove_,
in charge of Mr. Parker, and were landed at Cape Hay on the south side of
Lancaster Sound.
In 1849, Dr. Goodsir, whose brother had sailed in the _Erebus_ as
assistant surgeon, went north on the whaling ship _Advice_, under
Captain Penny, and penetrated to Lancaster Sound, but was debarred from
entering Prince Regent Inlet by the ice. The _Advice_ closely skirted
the shores, and deposited provisions, but found no traces of the missing
ships, and returned to England. In the meantime, the _Enterprise_ and
_Investigator_, the gallant ships of the third government expedition
previously described, were being refitted and provisioned for the purpose
of going by way of South America to Behring Strait. Sailing from Plymouth
Sound January 20, 1850, the _Enterprise_ under the command of Captain
Richard Collinson, and the _Investigator_ under Commander M’Clure, made
a comparatively fast run to the Pacific. By the middle of August the
_Enterprise_ fell in with the ice. At Grantly Harbor, communication with
the _Plover_ and _Herald_ determined Captain Collinson to proceed to
Hongkong, there to replenish his stores and not attempt to penetrate the
ice until the following April.
In the meantime the _North Star_ with her provisions and despatches
had spent the winter in North Star Bay, in Wolstenholme Sound, 76° 33´
north latitude and 68° 56´ west longitude. Not until August, 1850, did
she get free of her retreat, and some days later in Lancaster Sound she
spoke the _Lady Franklin_ and _Sophia_ under the command of Mr. Penny.
These ships had been equipped mainly at the expense of Lady Franklin;
had sailed early in the spring and, though independent of the government
expeditions, were to coöperate with them as circumstances demanded. Later
the _North Star_ fell in with the _Felix_, a schooner-rigged vessel of
one hundred and twenty tons, provisioned for eighteen months and under
that veteran sea captain and explorer, Sir John Ross. The _Felix_ had
been equipped by public subscription and sent out for the purpose of
searching the west side of the entrance of Wellington Channel from Cape
Hotham to Banks Land.
The _North Star_ deposited a quantity of provisions at a point the
commander named Navy Board Inlet, on the mainland behind Wollaston
Island, and erected a cairn and flagstaff, having first made an
unsuccessful attempt to reach Port Bowen and Port Neale. In Possession
Bay she spoke the _Prince Albert_, that gallant little craft, equipped in
greater part by the devoted Lady Franklin, who had raised the necessary
funds by selling out all personal securities which she could legally
touch. Commander Charles C. Forsyth and Mr. W. P. Snow had volunteered
their services without compensation, and the object of this expedition
was to examine the shores of Prince Regent Inlet and the Gulf of Boothia
and send out travelling parties to examine the west side of Boothia down
to Dease and Simpson straits.
Shortly after this, the _North Star_ turned homeward, reaching Spithead,
England, September 28, 1850.
The British government had by now outfitted two strong teak-built ships,
the _Resolute_ and the _Assistance_, and two steam vessels, the _Pioneer_
and _Intrepid_. The object of this expedition was to renew the search by
way of Baffin Bay and Lancaster Sound. Captain H. T. Austin commanded the
_Resolute_, Captain Ommaney the _Assistance_, Lieutenant Sherard Osborn
the _Pioneer_, and Lieutenant Commander Cator the _Intrepid_. Of what
they accomplished, we shall speak later.
As early as April 4, 1849, Lady Franklin had made a heartrending appeal
to the President of the United States, in which she called on the
American nation, as a “kindred people, to join heart and hand in the
enterprise of snatching the lost navigators from a dreary grave.” Such
an eloquent appeal could not help but rouse the country to the strongest
feeling of sympathy and interest. But the prolonged delays incident
to our national legislation threatened to defeat her request, until a
generous philanthropist, Mr. Henry Grinnell, a New York merchant of great
wealth, stepped forward with the munificent offer of two well-equipped
vessels, the _Advance_ of one hundred and forty tons, and the _Rescue_
of ninety tons, which he placed at the disposition of the government.
Congress accepted this generous gift, and the ships were placed under
the direction of the Navy Board. The command was given to Lieutenant E.
De Haven, a most zealous and able naval officer; Mr. Murdock was sailing
master, with Dr. E. K. Kane, that remarkable man “weak in body but great
in mind,” whose succeeding journeys contributed so much to solving the
mystery surrounding the fate of the lost ships.
[Sidenote: _FIRST GRINNELL EXPEDITION_]
The Grinnell expedition left New York on May 23, 1850, and was absent
about sixteen months.
It will thus be seen that the Arctic seas had never been so replete with
expeditions, whose heroic object was the search for missing comrades; and
the year 1850-1851 was one of unparalleled adventure, exploration, and
discovery, but alas! only the most meagre traces of the brave mariners
were found, whose deplorable fate stirred the sympathy of the civilized
world.
The unfavourable conditions of the “middle ice” in Baffin Bay and the
Melville Bay barrier caused the searching expeditions great difficulties
and discouraging delays. So strenuous were the conditions at times that
the officers and crews of the smaller vessels made every preparation to
leave the ships at a moment’s notice, should these vessels be crushed
in the ice. By boring, tracking, and cutting, and by one ship towing
the other through loose ice as the occasion demanded, slow but steady
advance was made to the desired latitudes. Most interesting are the
experiences of the little _Prince Albert_, Lady Franklin’s ship.
In describing a daring attack of this little craft upon ice-floes, Mr.
Snow writes most graphically:—
“It was determined by Captain Forsyth boldly to try and break through the
impediment, by forcing the ship under a press of canvas. Accordingly, all
sail was set and the ship was steering direct for the narrowest and most
broken part of the neck. As this was the first and only time the Prince
Albert was made to come direct upon the ice to break it with the force
she would derive from a press of sail, we were all anxious to see how she
would stand it; and right well did she bear the test. The two mates were
aloft in the ‘crow’s nest’ to _con_ the vessel; I was standing on the
extreme point of her bow and holding on by the fore-stay to direct her
movement when immediately upon the ice; and Captain Forsyth was by the
side of the helmsman. Every man was at some particular station, and ready
to perform anything that was instantly required of him. Cook and steward
were also on deck; and throughout the ship an almost breathless anxiety
prevailed; for, it must be remembered, it was not a large and powerful
ship, but a small, and comparatively fragile one, that was now about to
try of her own accord, and with her own strength, to break a piece of ice
some feet thick, though not very broad. On either side of her were heavy
floes and sconce pieces; and it required the greatest nicety in guiding
her, that she might, in her strongest part, the bow, hit the precise spot
where the neck was weakest, and not come upon any other part where she
could do nothing but severely injure herself.
“On she came, at a rate of full five miles per hour; gaining, as she
proceeded, increased impetus, until she rushed towards it with a speed of
at least eight miles in the hour. The distance from the neck was about
a mile, and the breeze blew steadily upon it. The weakest and narrowest
part was that close to the starboard floe, and to _that_ our eyes were
all directed.
“‘Port! starboard! So—O—steady!’ was every now and then bawled out with
stentorian lungs from aloft, and as energetically and promptly repeated,
by the captain below, to the man at the wheel. Presently she came close
to—she was almost upon it—a mistaken hail from aloft would have put her
helm _a-port_, and sent her _crushing_ upon the heavy floe. I heard the
order ‘_a-port_,’ and, before it had been repeated, shouted loudly, with
the men around me, who also saw the mistake, ‘starboard! _starboard!
hard a-starboard!_’ and in the next instant, with a tremendous blow,
that for the moment made her rebound and tremble, she struck the ice in
the exact point, and caused it to rend apart in several fragments. Ice
poles and boat hooks were immediately in request; and myself and half a
dozen men sprang instantly over the bows, working with hands and feet and
with all our might in removing the broken pieces by pushing them ahead
of the vessel; in which labour, she, herself, materially aided us by her
own power pressing upon them. In a moment or two it was effected, and
throwing ourselves aboard again like so many wild cats, we prepared for
the next encounter.
“This, however, proved nothing like the other. The first blow sent
the whole of it flying in all directions, and the little _Prince_, as
if in haughty disdain, passed through without once stopping, pushing
aside the pieces, as they came against her. In another moment or two we
were in a larger sheet of water, though to our disappointment blocked
up at the extreme end by small bergs and huge hummocks, which latter
had, apparently, been thus thrown up in consequence of some late severe
squeeze there. We were, therefore, again obliged to make fast.”
Thursday, August 15, Mr. Snow makes the entry, “We were, now, fairly in
what is called by Arctic seamen, the ‘North Water,’ and all seemed clear
before us.”
By the 21st the little _Prince Albert_ found herself off Port Leopold.
Here a party made a difficult landing in a gutta-percha boat and found
the house constructed by Sir James C. Ross, somewhat rent by the winter
storms, but the provisions were in excellent condition and the little
steam-launch ready to carry any shipwrecked crew to safety.
The _Prince Albert_ now made for Prince Regent Inlet, and soon after
stood off Fury Beach. From this point the outlook was discouraging, as an
expanse of hummocky ice without the slightest sign of an opening extended
as far as the eye could reach.
It was now found necessary to abandon the main object of the expedition;
that is, the examination of the shores of Boothia, and the ship turned
with the purpose of closely scanning the shores and headlands at the
throat of Barrow Strait and a short distance up Wellington Channel. In
Barrow Strait, they spoke the American brig _Advance_; by the 24th they
neared Cape Hind. On this day they saw the _Lady Franklin_ and _Sophia_,
and later observed three more ships in Wellington Channel.
The next day, while off Cape Spencer, the officers of the _Prince Albert_
saw that to push further into the ice-pack through the few lanes still
open might mean, in case of a sudden nip, being shut up for the winter,
so it was reluctantly decided to make for home.
[Sidenote: _CAPTAIN OMMANEY_]
Leaving behind them that noble fleet of searching vessels, including
the _Assistance_, the _Lady Franklin_, the _Sophia_, the _Rescue_, and,
though not visible, the _Advance_ and _Intrepid_, the _Prince Albert_
turned her bow homeward. At Cape Riley the officers noticed a signal-post
and immediately sent a boat ashore to discover what it meant.
“As the boat touched the shelving rocks,” writes Mr. Snow, “I hastily
sprang out into the water, leaving the men to secure her; and ran to the
signal-post about fifty yards off. I was there in a moment, with Grate
close at my heels. A few paces off I observed another and a rougher post
erected, but this one had a small flag flying, and was evidently the
principal. I really cannot tell whether the cylinder handed to me in the
course of a second or two had been buried or merely tied to the post,
so intent was I upon conjecturing what news I should receive. My hands
trembled with eagerness, and I could hardly read the paper. It was as
follows:—
“‘Her Majesty’s Arctic Searching Expedition.
“‘This is to certify that Captain Ommaney, with the officers
of her Majesty’s ships _Assistance_ and _Intrepid_, landed at
Cape Riley on the 23d of August, 1850, where he found traces
of an encampment, and collected the remains of materials which
evidently prove that some party belonging to her Majesty’s
ships have been detained on this spot. Beechey Island was also
examined, where traces were found of the same party.
“‘This is also to give notice that a supply of provisions and
fuel is at Port Leopold. Her Majesty’s ships, _Assistance_
and _Intrepid_, were detached from the squadron under Captain
Austin, off Wolstenholme, on the 15th inst., since when they
have examined the north shores of Lancaster Sound and Barrow
Strait, without meeting any other traces. Captain Ommaney
proceeds to Cape Hotham and Cape Walker in search for further
traces of Sir John Franklin’s expedition.
“‘Dated on board her Majesty’s ship _Assistance_, off Cape
Riley, August 23, 1850.
“‘ERASMUS OMMANEY.’”
“After the other signal-post had been examined,” continues Mr. Snow,
“I made a careful observation of everything around me, and commenced
as close an investigation as the hurried nature of my visit, according
to my orders, permitted me. The men had also, previously to my telling
them and with an alacrity that did them credit, commenced a most prying
search. One in a short time brought me about an inch and a half square
piece of canvas well bleached; another, the second mate, more fortunate,
discovered a piece of rope, as I supposed a ratlin, and which was found
to contain the Chatham Dock-yard Navy mark;[2] a third found a piece of
bone, with two holes bored in it. Beef bones, and other unmistakable
marks of the place having been used within some very few years by a
party of Europeans, for some purpose or other, were discovered. The
ground presented very much the appearance of having been turned into an
encampment, for certain stones were so placed as to lead to the inference
that tents had been erected within some of their enclosures, and in
others a fire might have been made, but no marks of fire were visible.
“Four of these circular parcels of stones I counted, and observed another
which might or might not have been a fifth.”
[Illustration: HENRY GRINNELL]
Continuing her homeward voyage with her precious relics, the _Prince
Albert_ reached Aberdeen, October 1. The Admiralty identified the bit of
rope as being navy-yard manufacture of not later than 1841. The canvas
was also believed to be of British manufacture. The meat bones seemed to
bear exactly the marks of the ship’s provisions used about five years
back, and the relics were identified as belonging to the ill-fated
_Erebus_ and _Terror_.
As soon as it was known among the other searching parties that Captain
Ommaney had found traces of the missing expedition, Ross, Austin, Penny,
and De Haven began a minute investigation of the surrounding locality
and proved that Cape Spencer and Beechey Island at the entrance of
Wellington Channel had been without doubt the site of Franklin’s first
winter quarters. At Cape Spencer, some ten miles above Cape Riley, a
ground place for a tent was found, the floor paved with small stones.
About the tent birds’ bones and meat canisters were found. Numerous
sledge tracks along the shore were also noticed.
[Sidenote: _LIEUTENANT OSBORN_]
Of the examination of Beechey Island, Lieutenant Osborn writes:—
“A long point of land slopes gradually from the southern bluffs of
this now deeply interesting island, until it almost connects itself
with the land of North Devon, forming on either side of it two good
and commodious bays. On this slope a multitude of preserved-meat tins
were strewed about; and near them, and on the ridge of the slope, a
carefully constructed cairn was discovered; it consisted of layers of
fitted tins, filled with gravel, and placed to form a firm and solid
foundation. Beyond this, and along the northern shore of Beechey Island,
the following traces were then quickly discovered: the embankment of
a house, with carpenters’ and armorers’ working places, washing tubs,
coal-bags, pieces of old clothing, rope, and, lastly, the graves of three
of the crew of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_, bearing date of the winter of
1845-1846. We, therefore, now had ascertained the first winter-quarters
of Sir John Franklin.
“On the eastern slope of the ridge of Beechey Island, a remnant of a
garden (for remnant it now only was, having been dug up in the search)
told an interesting tale; its neatly-shaped, oval outline, the border
carefully formed of moss lichen, poppies, and anemones, transplanted from
some more genial part of this dreary region,—contrived still to show
symptoms of vitality; but the seeds which, doubtless, they had sowed in
the garden had decayed away.
“Nearer to the beach, a heap of cinders and scraps of iron showed the
armorer’s working-place; and, along an old water-course, now chained
up by frost, several tubs, constructed of the ends of salt-meat casks,
left no doubt as to the washing-places of the men of Franklin’s squadron.
Happening to cross a level piece of ground, which as yet no one had
lighted upon, I was pleased to see a pair of cashmere gloves laid out
to dry, with two small stones on the palms to prevent their blowing
away; they had been there since 1846. I took them up carefully, as
melancholy mementoes of my missing friends. In another spot a flannel was
discovered; and this, together with some things lying about, would, in my
ignorance of wintering in the Arctic regions, have led me to suppose that
there was considerable haste displayed in the departure of the _Erebus_
and _Terror_ from the spot, had not Captain Austin assured me that there
was nothing to ground such a belief upon, and that, from experience, he
could vouch for these being nothing more than the ordinary traces of a
winter station; and this opinion was fully borne out by those officers
who had, in the previous year, wintered in Port Leopold, one of them
asserting that people left winter quarters too well pleased to escape to
care much for a handful of shavings, an old coal-bag, or a washing tub.”
[Illustration: THE GRAVES ON BEECHEY ISLAND]
On the headstones of the three graves resting in that bleak and desolate
shore were the following inscriptions:—
Sacred
to the
Memory
of
W. Braine, R. M.
H. M. S. Erebus,
Died April 3rd, 1846,
Aged 32 years.
“Choose ye this day whom ye will serve.”
Joshua, ch. XXIV. 15.
Sacred to the Memory of
John Hartwell, A. B. of H. M. S.
Erebus,
Aged 23 years.
“Thus saith the Lord, consider your ways.”
Haggai, I. 7.
Sacred
to
The Memory
of
John Torrington,
Who departed this life,
January 1st, A.D., 1846,
On board of
H. M.’s Ship Terror,
Aged 20 years.
No other written record was found. The lost expedition had seemingly
folded its tents, in the mysterious gloom of the Arctic night, and
silently crept away.
Now, just as the searchers had struck the trail, and were hot upon the
scent, the icy clutch of the long winter arrested their endeavours,
imperiously demanded of them patience, courage, endurance, and enforced
upon them the weariness of months of waiting. Thus the squadron took
up winter quarters at the southern extremity of Cornwallis Land; the
Grinnell expedition, following its instruction, made an attempt to return
home; but was soon shut up in Wellington Channel, where the _Advance_
and _Rescue_ drifted backward and forward at the mercy of the ice. Of
their attempts to escape being ice-bound for the winter, Dr. Kane draws a
lively picture.
“September 13.
“The navigation is certainly exciting. I have never seen a description in
my Arctic readings of anything like this. We are literally running for
our lives, surrounded by the imminent hazards of sudden consolidation
in an open sea. All minor perils, nips, bumps, and sunken bergs are
discarded; we are staggering along under all sail, forcing our way
while we can. One thump, received since I commenced writing, jerked the
time-keeper from our binnacle down the cabin hatch, and, but for our
strong bows, seven and a half solid feet, would have stove us in. Another
time, we cleared a tongue of the main jack by riding it down at eight
knots.”
“We were obliged,” he continues, “several times the next day to bore
through the young ice; for the low temperature continued, and our wind
lulled under Cape Hotham. The night gave us now three hours of complete
darkness. It was danger to run on, yet equally danger to pause. Grim
water was following close upon our heels; and even the Captain, sanguine
and fearless in emergency as he always proved himself, as he saw the
tenacious fields of sludge and pancake thickening around us, began to
feel anxious. Mine was a jumble of sensations. I had been desirous to
the last degree that we might remain on the field of search, and could
hardly be satisfied at what promised to realize my wish. Yet I had hoped
that our wintering would be near our English friends, that in case of
trouble or disease we might mutually sustain each other. But the interval
of fifty miles between us, in these inhospitable deserts, was as complete
a separation as an entire continent; and I confess that I looked at the
dark shadows closing around Barlow Inlet, the prison from which we cut
ourselves on the seventh, just six days before, with feelings as sombre
as the landscape itself. The sound of our vessel crunching her way
through the new ice is not easy to describe. It was not like the grinding
of the old formed ice, nor was it the slushy scraping of sludge. We may
all of us remember in the skating frolics of early days, the peculiar
reverberating outcry of a pebble, as we tossed it from us along the edges
of an old mill-dam, and heard it dying away in echoes almost musical.
Imagine such a tone as this, combined with the whir of rapid motion, and
the rasping noise of close-grained sugar. I was listening to the sound in
my little den, after a sorrowful day, close upon zero, trying to warm up
my stiffened limbs. Presently it grew less, then increased, then stopped,
then went on again, but jerking and irregular, and then it waned, and
waned, and waned away to silence.
“Down came the captain: ‘Doctor, the ice has caught us; we are frozen
up.’”
In describing the discovery of new territory, Dr. Kane says:—
“On the 22d (September, 1850), our latitude was 75° 24´ 21´´. I now saw
land to the north and west; its horizon that of rolling ground, without
bluffs, terminating at its northern end. Still further on to the north
came a strip without visible land, and then land again with mountain
tops distant and ‘rising above the clouds.’ This last was the land which
received from Captain De Haven the name of Mr. Grinnell.”
[Sidenote: _ALBERT LAND_]
The following year (1851) this same land was seen by Captain Penny, and
named by him Albert Land. The Americans naturally supposed that when it
was made known that this land had been discovered by De Haven about eight
months before it was reached by Captain Penny, the name “Albert” would be
dropped, and that of “Grinnell” substituted. This, however, was not done.
A strange, and certainly not very honourable, feeling of jealousy seems
to have induced the Admiralty and Geographical Society to shut their eyes
to the fact that the discovery of the land was due to the Americans.
This famous controversy resulted in bitter condemnation of the English
authorities for injustice and partiality.
[Sidenote: _DE HAVEN EXPEDITION_]
But to return to Dr. Kane’s journal. On September 23, he pictures a fatal
break-up of the ice:—
“How shall I describe to you this pressure, its fearfulness and
sublimity! Nothing I have seen or read of approaches it. The voices of
the ice and the heavy swash of the overturned hummock-tables are at this
moment dinning in my ears. ‘All hands’ are on deck fighting our grim
enemy.
“Fourteen inches of solid ice thickness, with some half dozen of snow,
are, with the slow uniform advance of a mighty propelling power,
driving in upon our vessel. As they strike her, the semi-plastic mass
is impressed with a mould of her side, and then, urged on by the force
behind, slides upward, and rises in great vertical tables. When these
attain their utmost height, still pressed on by others, they topple over,
and form a great embankment of fallen tables. At the same time, others
take a downward direction, and when pushed on, as in the other case, form
a similar pile underneath. The side on which one or the other of these
actions takes place for the time varies with the direction of the force,
and the strength of the opposite or resisting side, the inclination of
the vessel, and the weight of the superincumbent mounds; and as these
conditions follow each other in varying succession, the vessel becomes
perfectly imbedded after a little while in crumbling and fractured ice.”
“We are lifted bodily eighteen inches out of water,” continues Dr. Kane.
“The hummocks are reared up around the ship, so as to rise in some cases
a couple of feet above our bulwarks—five feet above our deck. They are
very often ten and twelve feet high. All hands are out, laboring with
picks and crowbars to overturn the fragments that threaten to overwhelm
us. Add to this darkness, snow, cold, and the absolute destitution of
surrounding shores.”
“October 6, Sunday. 12 Midnight. They report us adrift. Wind, a gale from
the northward and westward. An odd cruise this! The American expedition
fast in a lump of ice about as big as Washington Square, and driving,
like a shanty on a raft, before a howling gale.
“November 25.
“Our daylight to-day was a mere name, three and a half hours of meagre
twilight. I was struck for the first time with the bleached faces of my
mess-mates.
“Seventy-seven days more without a sunrise! twenty-six before we reach
the solstitial point of greatest darkness!
“December 22, Sunday. The solstice!—the midnight of the year!
“December 23, Monday. Perfect darkness! Drift unknown. Winds nearly at
rest with the exception of a little gasp from the westward.
“December 24, Tuesday. ‘Through utter darkness borne.’
“December 25. ‘Ye Christmas of ye Arctic cruisers!’
“Our Christmas passed without a lack of the good things of this life.
‘Goodies’ we had galore; but that best of earthly blessings, the
communion of loved sympathies, these Arctic cruisers had not. It was
curious to observe the depressing influences of each man’s home thoughts,
and absolutely saddening the effort of each man to impose upon his
neighbor and be very boon and jolly. We joked incessantly, but badly,
too; ate of good things, and drank up a moiety of our Heidsieck; and
then we sang negro songs, wanting only time, measure, and harmony, but
abounding in noise; and after a closing bumper to Mr. Grinnell, adjourned
with creditable jollity from table to the theatre.”
“Never,” writes Dr. Kane, “had I enjoyed the tawdry quackery of the stage
half so much.
“The ‘Blue Devils’: God bless us! but it was very, very funny. None
knew their parts, and the prompter could not read glibly enough to do
his office. Everything, whether jocose, or indignant, or commonplace, or
pathetic, was delivered in a high-tragedy monotone of despair; five words
at a time, or more or less, according to the facilities of the prompting.
Megrim, with a pair of seal-skin boots, bestowed his gold upon the gentle
Annette; and Annette, nearly six feet high, received it with mastodonic
grace. Annette was an Irishman named Daly, and I might defy human being
to hear her, while balanced on the heel of her boot, exclaim, in rich
masculine brogue, ‘Och, feather,’ without roaring.
“After this followed _The Star Spangled Banner_; then a complicated
Marseillaise by our French cook, Henri; then a sailor’s hornpipe by the
diversely talented Bruce; the orchestra—Stewart playing out the intervals
on the Jew’s-harp from the top of a lard-cask. In fact, we were very
happy fellows. We had had a foot race in the morning over the midnight
ice for three purses of a flannel shirt each, and a splicing of the main
brace. The day was night, the stars shining feebly through the mist.
“December 28, Saturday.
“From my very soul do I rejoice at the coming sun. Evidences not to be
mistaken convince me that the health of our crew, never resting upon a
very sound basis, must sink under the continued influences of darkness
and cold. The temperature and foulness of air in the between-deck
Tartarus, cannot be amended, otherwise it would be my duty to urge a
change. Between the smoke of lamps, the dry heat of stoves, and the
fumes of the galley, all of them unintermitting, what wonder that we
grow feeble. The short race of Christmas Day knocked up all our officers
except Griffen. It pained me to see my friend Lovell, our strongest
man, fainting with the exertion. The symptoms of scurvy among the crew
are still increasing, and more general. Faces are growing pale; and an
indolence akin to apathy seems to be creeping over us. I long for the
light. Dear, dear sun, no wonder you are worshipped!”
It may be imagined with what rejoicings they welcomed the glowing disk
when on February 18 they first beheld it. Three cheers went up, and Kane
himself fired a salute. Though the dawn increased, the cold twilight
still continued, and the perils of their situation were ever present.
Many times the conditions of the ice threatened their destruction, but
not until June 5 did its appalling disruption free them. In twenty
minutes the ice, as far as the eye could reach, was a vast field of
moving floes. Five days later they emerged into the open water and made
for Godhaven on the coast of Greenland.
Here they underwent repairs, and, undaunted by the recent perils, again
turned their prows to the north. Skirting the coast of Greenland as far
as the 73d degree, they sailed to the westward and spoke an English
whaling ship near the Dutch Island about the 7th and 8th of July. By
the 11th they were pushing their way through the accumulations of ice
in Baffin Bay, and here the gallant little _Prince Albert_, on her way
back to join the searching squadron, continued in their company until the
3d of August, when she hove off to the westward to try a more southern
passage.
Pushing bravely against the odds of impenetrable ice barriers; blocked at
every manœuvre to force a passage; nine more months of winter threatening
the enfeebled crew; the brave De Haven determined to give up the unequal
battle, and Dr. Kane makes this entry:—
“August 19, Tuesday:
“_Rescue_ is close astern of us; she got through about noon yesterday.
Our commodore has resolved on an immediate return to the United States.”