FRANKLIN’S SECOND LAND JOURNEY
In no way deterred by the terrible dangers which he had encountered
in his first journey, Franklin had scarcely returned home when he
laid before the Government a scheme for a second expedition which
was, according to his idea, to proceed “overland to the mouth of the
Mackenzie River and thence, by sea, to the north-western extremity of
North America, with the combined object, also, of surveying the coast
between the Mackenzie and Coppermine Rivers.” It was hoped at the
same time that, if Parry’s party succeeded in winning through to the
Polar Sea, the two expeditions might prove of mutual service to one
another.
Franklin’s plan found favour in the eyes of the Government, and
he was immediately appointed to the command of the new expedition
with authority to make such preparations as seemed proper to him.
Warned by his previous experiences, he resolved to run no risks, and
accordingly arranged a system of supplies which would remove all
possibility of starvation, and superintended the construction of a
number of boats which would be better able to withstand the ardours
of navigation in the Polar Seas than the birch-bark canoes which he
had previously employed.
The boats were four in number. Three of them varied from twenty-four
to twenty-six feet in length, while the fourth, which was called the
_Walnut Shell_, was nine feet by four feet four and only weighed
eighty-four pounds, being so constructed that it could be taken to
pieces and made up into five or six parcels.
The party consisted of Franklin, Lieutenant Back, Dr Richardson
(assistant-surveyor), and Mr Thomas Drummond (assistant-naturalist),
with four mariners; and their plan of campaign was to be as follows:
They were to sail to New York, and thence they were to make their way
by a series of lakes and rivers to the Great Bear Lake, where they
were to take up their quarters for the winter. As soon as the open
season began they were to divide into two parties, one of which was
to travel westward from the mouth of the Mackenzie, and, if possible,
was to round Icy Cape and meet H.M.S. _Blossom_ in Kotzebue’s Inlet.
The other was to turn eastward from the Mackenzie, and to explore
the coast as far as the mouth of the Coppermine. Having reached that
river, it was to return to the Great Bear Lake overland.
The first part of the journey was accomplished without misadventure,
and on August 7, 1825, Franklin found himself at Fort Norman on the
Mackenzie, near which point a tributary stream joins the river with
the Great Bear Lake. The season was still so open that he decided to
examine the river between Fort Norman and the sea before retiring
into winter quarters, so he sent the main body of the expedition to
the lake, with orders to erect the necessary buildings, while he and
Mr Kendall set off downstream.
They raced along with the stream at a great pace, and on August 16
they reached Ellice Island, lat. 69° 14′, long. 135° 56′. They were
now on the very shore of the Polar Sea, and to their indescribable
delight they found the ocean absolutely free from ice, and, to all
appearances, perfectly navigable.
At this point a somewhat touching incident took place. In 1823
Franklin had married a Miss Eleanor Purdon, to whom he was absolutely
devoted. While he was making the preparations for his journey his
wife fell ill, and to while away the hours of her sickness she made
him a small silken Union Jack which she gave him with injunctions
never to unfurl it until he planted it on the shores of the Polar
Sea. A few days after he set sail she died, and he received the news
of his bereavement soon after he reached America. The story of the
unfurling of her flag may be told in his own words:—
“The men,” he wrote, “had pitched the tent, and I caused the silk
Union Jack to be hoisted, which my deeply lamented wife had made and
presented to me as a parting gift, under the express condition that
it was not to be unfurled before the expedition reached the Polar
Sea. I will not attempt to describe my emotions as it expanded to the
breeze—however natural, and, for the moment, irresistible, I felt
that I had no right, by the indulgence of my own sorrows, to cloud
the animated countenances of my companions. Joining, therefore, with
the best grace that I could command in the general excitement, I
endeavoured to return, with corresponding cheerfulness, their warm
congratulations on having thus planted the British flag on this
remote island of the Polar Sea.”
Extra grog was served out to the men, and Franklin and Kendall
prepared to celebrate the event in a little brandy which they had
reserved for the occasion. Unfortunately, however, the Canadian
guide, Baptiste, had, in the excitement of the moment, provided them
with salt water instead of fresh, and they had to use the brandy in
the more classical form of a libation poured on the ground.
Franklin then erected a flag-staff, and deposited under it a letter
containing information concerning the nearest station of the Hudson
Bay Company for the use of Parry, in the event of his reaching the
mouth of the Mackenzie. This done, he set out on the return journey
to the Great Bear Lake, which he reached on September 4.
He found that the winter quarters had been completed during his
absence, and that they had already been named Fort Franklin in his
honour. The party had been increased to fifty by fresh arrivals, and,
as they would have to depend largely upon fish for their food supply
during the winter months, and it was useless to expect to catch
sufficient for so many mouths at any one spot, two additional houses
were erected, four and seven miles away. At the Fort itself fifteen
to twenty nets were kept in constant use, and fish were so plentiful
that the catches averaged from three hundred to eight hundred a day
during the summer and winter.
Only once, towards the end of the winter, was the food supply
in any danger of failing, and it was found necessary to put the
party on short rations for a while. Fortunately, however, at the
critical moment the deer put in an appearance, and Franklin was
relieved from all further anxiety. Otherwise the winter was quite
uneventful, and the party lived together in complete harmony, which
was not a little surprising considering that they consisted of such
mixed nationalities as Englishmen, Highlanders, Canadians, Eskimos,
Chipewyans, Dog-ribs, Hare Indians, and Crees.
It was on June 20 that the two parties set off from the Fort on
their voyages of discovery. It had been arranged that Franklin and
Back, with thirteen men and the Eskimo interpreter, Augustus, should
man the _Lion_ and the _Reliance_, and should explore the coast
westwards, while Dr Richardson and Mr Kendall, with ten men, should
survey the land between the Mackenzie and the Coppermine. They
dropped down the river together till, on July 4, they parted company
and started off on their respective ways.
On the 7th Franklin reached the mouth of the river, and there he
came upon a party of Eskimos encamped upon an island, with whom he
attempted to open negotiations. Things went very smoothly until the
receding tide left the boats aground. Then, however, the Eskimos,
having discovered that the boats had on board a store of wonderful
goods, the like of which they had never set eyes on before, decided
that it would be more to their advantage to lay hands on these
at once than to await the possible advantages of future trade.
Consequently, they began a spirited attack upon the boats which
lasted for several hours, and during the course of which they
possessed themselves of a considerable portion of the expedition’s
property. In warding off the attack, Franklin and his men were at
a serious disadvantage, for they knew perfectly well that if they
used their fire-arms they would eventually pay the penalty with their
lives. Fortunately, however, they were able to prevent the loss of
any of their more valuable property, such as their sails, oars,
and astronomical instruments, and early on the next morning they
succeeded in getting the boats out into deep water again.
Having at last shaken off their unwelcome visitors, Franklin and his
party continued their journey westward. On the following day they
fell in with another party of Eskimos, who proved to be more friendly
than the last, and provided Franklin with a quantity of information
concerning the coast along which he was about to travel. In the
main, they were discouraging, for they told him that, though in the
immediate neighbourhood the ice might be expected to drift away from
the shore if a southerly wind arose, further to the westward it
frequently adhered to the land throughout the whole summer, and even
if he were so fortunate as to find any channels, navigation could
not be very safe, as the ice was continually tossing about. They
expressed their surprise that the explorers had not brought with them
dogs and sledges for use when the sea route proved impossible. In
later years, of course, it was found that the plan suggested by the
Eskimos was the only one by which any material advance could be made
in the Polar regions.
Franklin, however, was not inclined to pin too much faith upon the
Eskimos’ information, as he learnt that, during the summer months,
they never wandered far from the Mackenzie, and could not, in
consequence, know very much about the condition of the more westerly
seas. So, a southerly wind springing up and carrying the ice away
from the shore, he pressed forward with such speed as the somewhat
variable conditions would allow. During the course of the next few
days he discovered and named Points Sabine and King, Herschell
Island, Canning River, and Flaxman’s Island, and on August 10 he
reached Foggy Island. On this unattractive spot the party was doomed
to remain till the 16th, for a fog came down upon them and refused
to clear away again. Fog, of course, is one of the most dangerous
enemies of the Arctic navigator, for, when his course is obscured
by it, he may be wrecked by an ice-floe before he is aware of his
danger. Consequently there was nothing for them to do but to kick
their heels on Foggy Island until more favourable weather allowed
them to proceed.
This untimely delay deprived the expedition of all hope of success.
Had they not lost those six valuable days they might very well have
succeeded in joining the advance party sent out from H.M.S. _Blossom_
in Kotzebue’s Inlet. As it was, they had no choice but to turn back
to the Great Bear Lake, which they reached on September 21.
On arriving at Fort Franklin they found that Dr Richardson, Mr
Kendall and their party had already returned, having brought their
expedition to a successful conclusion. They, too, had had some
difficulties with the Eskimos, but, apart from this, they had met
with no adventure worth recording. They had sailed steadily along
the coast, naming its principal features as they passed them.
Liverpool Bay, Cape Bathurst, Franklin Bay, Cape Parry, Dolphin and
Union Strait, and Cape Krusenstern, all owe their names to this
expedition.
It was at the last of these, which is in lat. 68° 23´, long. 113° 45´
W., and stands at the western extremity of Coronation Gulf, that they
connected the discoveries of the voyage with those made by Franklin
on his former expedition. On the following day (August 8) they
reached the mouth of the Coppermine, and there they found the remains
of the fire which Franklin’s previous expedition had made before
setting out on its journey. The river was so shallow that it was
impossible to navigate it in the boats that they were now using, so,
after dragging them out of reach of any flood and stowing away any
stores which they did not require in the tents, they began the return
journey on foot. They reached Fort Franklin on August 18 “after an
absence of seventy-one days, during which period we had travelled by
land and water 1709 geographical or 1980 statute miles.”
The winter passed without any particular incident, except some
remarkably severe frosts. Some idea of the intense cold may be
gathered from the fact that on January 24, 1827, when the temperature
was at 52° 2´ below zero, Mr Kendall froze some mercury in the mould
of a bullet and fired it from his pistol. This, however, was not
the coldest weather that they experienced, for on February 7 the
thermometer stood at 58° below zero.
During the summer of 1827 the party returned to England after an
expedition which, if it had not absolutely fulfilled the purpose
with which it had started, had certainly acquired some most valuable
information.