THE DEATH OF BELLOT
The temperature during the days of the 3rd and 4th of July kept up
to 57 degrees; this was the highest thermometric point observed during
the campaign. But on Thursday, the 5th, the wind turned to the
south-east, and was accompanied by violent snow-storms. The
thermometer fell during the preceding night to 23 degrees. Hatteras
took no notice of the murmurs of the crew, and gave orders to get
under way. For the last thirteen days, from Cape Dundas, the _Forward_
had not been able to gain one more degree north, so the party
represented by Clifton was no longer satisfied, but wished like
Hatteras to get into Wellington Channel, and worked away with a will.
The brig had some difficulty in getting under sail; but Hatteras
having set his mizensail, his topsails, and his gallantsails during
the night, advanced boldly in the midst of fields of ice which the
current was drifting south. The crew were tired out with this winding
navigation, which kept them constantly at work at the sails.
Wellington Channel is not very wide; it is bounded by North Devon
on the east and Cornwallis Island on the west; this island was long
believed to be a peninsula. It was Sir John Franklin who first sailed
round it in 1846, starting west, and coming back to the same point
to the north of the channel. The exploration of Wellington Channel
was made in 1851 by Captain Penny in the whalers _Lady Franklin_ and
_Sophia_; one of his lieutenants, Stewart, reached Cape Beecher in
latitude 76 degrees 20 minutes, and discovered the open sea--that
open sea which was Hatteras's dream!
"What Stewart found I shall find," said he to the doctor; "then I
shall be able to set sail to the Pole."
"But aren't you afraid that your crew----"
"My crew!" said Hatteras severely. Then in a low tone--"Poor fellows!"
murmured he, to the great astonishment of the doctor. It was the first
expression of feeling he had heard the captain deliver.
"No," he repeated with energy, "they must follow me! They shall follow
me!"
However, although the _Forward_ had nothing to fear from the collision
of the ice-streams, which were still pretty far apart, they made very
little progress northward, for contrary winds often forced them to
stop. They passed Capes Spencer and Innis slowly, and on Tuesday,
the 10th, cleared 75 degrees to the great delight of Clifton. The
_Forward_ was then at the very place where the American ships, the
_Rescue_ and the _Advance_, encountered such terrible dangers.
Doctor Kane formed part of this expedition; towards the end of
September, 1850, these ships got caught in an ice-bank, and were
forcibly driven into Lancaster Strait. It was Shandon who related
this catastrophe to James Wall before some of the brig's crew.
"The _Advance_ and the _Rescue_," he said to them, "were so knocked
about by the ice, that they were obliged to leave off fires on board;
but that did not prevent the temperature sinking 18 degrees below
zero. During the whole winter the unfortunate crews were kept
prisoners in the ice-bank, ready to abandon their ships at any moment;
for three weeks they did not even change their clothes. They floated
along in that dreadful situation for more than a thousand miles, when
at last they were thrown into the middle of Baffin's Sea."
The effect of this speech upon a crew already badly disposed can be
well imagined. During this conversation Johnson was talking to the
doctor about an event that had taken place in those very quarters;
he asked the doctor to tell him when the brig was in latitude 75 degrees
30 minutes, and when they passed it he cried:
"Yes, it was just there!" in saying which tears filled his eyes.
"You mean that Lieutenant Bellot died there?" said the doctor.
"Yes, Mr. Clawbonny. He was as good and brave a fellow as ever lived!
It was upon this very North Devon coast! It was to be, I suppose,
but if Captain Pullen had returned on board sooner it would not have
happened."
"What do you mean, Johnson?"
"Listen to me, Mr. Clawbonny, and you will see on what a slight thread
existence often hangs. You know that Lieutenant Bellot went his first
campaign in search of Franklin in 1850?"
"Yes, on the _Prince Albert_."
"Well, when he got back to France he obtained permission to embark
on board the _Phoenix_ under Captain Inglefield; I was a sailor on
board. We came with the _Breadalbane_ to transport provisions to
Beechey Island!"
"Those provisions we, unfortunately, did not find. Well?"
"We reached Beechey Island in the beginning of August; on the 10th
Captain Inglefield left the _Phoenix_ to rejoin Captain Pullen, who
had been separated from his ship, the _North Star_, for a month. When
he came back he thought of sending his Admiralty despatches to Sir
Edward Belcher, who was wintering in Wellington Channel. A little
while after the departure of our captain, Captain Pullen got back
to his ship. Why did he not arrive before the departure of Captain
Inglefield? Lieutenant Bellot, fearing that our captain would be long
away, and knowing that the Admiralty despatches ought to be sent at
once, offered to take them himself. He left the command of the two
ships to Captain Pullen, and set out on the 12th of August with a
sledge and an indiarubber boat. He took the boatswain of the _North
Star_ (Harvey) with him, and three sailors, Madden, David Hook, and
me. We supposed that Sir Edward Belcher was to be found in the
neighbourhood of Beecher Cape, to the north of the channel; we made
for it with our sledge along the eastern coast. The first day we
encamped about three miles from Cape Innis; the next day we stopped
on a block of ice about three miles from Cape Bowden. As land lay
at about three miles' distance, Lieutenant Bellot resolved to go and
encamp there during the night, which was as light as the day; he tried
to get to it in his indiarubber canoe; he was twice repulsed by a
violent breeze from the south-east; Harvey and Madden attempted the
passage in their turn, and were more fortunate; they took a cord with
them, and established a communication between the coast and the
sledge; three objects were transported by means of the cord, but at
the fourth attempt we felt our block of ice move; Mr. Bellot called
out to his companions to drop the cord, and we were dragged to a great
distance from the coast. The wind blew from the south-east, and it
was snowing; but we were not in much danger, and the lieutenant might
have come back as we did."
Here Johnson stopped an instant to take a glance at the fatal coast,
and continued:
"After our companions were lost to sight we tried to shelter ourselves
under the tent of our sledge, but in vain; then, with our knives,
we began to cut out a house in the ice. Mr. Bellot helped us for half
an hour, and talked to us about the danger of our situation. I told
him I was not afraid. 'By God's help,' he answered, 'we shall not
lose a hair of our heads.' I asked him what o'clock it was, and he
answered, 'About a quarter-past six.' It was a quarter-past six in
the morning of Thursday, August 18th. Then Mr. Bellot tied up his
books, and said he would go and see how the ice floated; he had only
been gone four minutes when I went round the block of ice to look
for him; I saw his stick on the opposite side of a crevice, about
five fathoms wide, where the ice was broken, but I could not see him
anywhere. I called out, but no one answered. The wind was blowing
great guns. I looked all round the block of ice, but found no trace
of the poor lieutenant."
"What do you think had become of him?" said the doctor, much moved.
"I think that when Mr. Bellot got out of shelter the wind blew him
into the crevice, and, as his greatcoat was buttoned up he could not
swim. Oh! Mr. Clawbonny, I never was more grieved in my life! I could
not believe it! He was a victim to duty, for it was in order to obey
Captain Pullen's instructions that he tried to get to land. He was
a good fellow, everybody liked him; even the Esquimaux, when they
learnt his fate from Captain Inglefield on his return from Pound Bay,
cried while they wept, as I am doing now, 'Poor Bellot! poor Bellot!'"
"But you and your companion, Johnson," said the doctor, "how did you
manage to reach land?"
"Oh! we stayed twenty-four hours more on the block of ice, without
food or firing; but at last we met with an ice-field; we jumped on
to it, and with the help of an oar we fastened ourselves to an iceberg
that we could guide like a raft, and we got to land, but without our
brave officer."
By the time Johnson had finished his story the _Forward_ had passed
the fatal coast, and Johnson lost sight of the place of the painful
catastrophe. The next day they left Griffin Bay to the starboard,
and, two days after, Capes Grinnell and Helpmann; at last, on the
14th of July, they doubled Osborn Point, and on the 15th the brig
anchored in Baring Bay, at the extremity of the channel. Navigation
had not been very difficult; Hatteras met with a sea almost as free
as that of which Belcher profited to go and winter with the _Pioneer_
and the _Assistance_ as far north as 77 degrees. It was in 1852 and
1853, during his first wintering, for he passed the winter of 1853
to 1854 in Baring Bay, where the _Forward_ was now at anchor. He
suffered so much that he was obliged to leave the _Assistance_ in
the midst of the ice. Shandon told all these details to the already
discontented sailors. Did Hatteras know how he was betrayed by his
first officer? It is impossible to say; if he did, he said nothing
about it.
At the top of Baring Bay there is a narrow channel which puts
Wellington and Queen's Channel into communication with each other.
There the rafts of ice lie closely packed. Hatteras tried, in vain,
to clear the passes to the north of Hamilton Island; the wind was
contrary; five precious days were lost in useless efforts. The
temperature still lowered, and, on the 19th of July, fell to 26
degrees; it got higher the following day; but this foretaste of winter
made Hatteras afraid of waiting any longer. The wind seemed to be
going to keep in the west, and to stop the progress of the ship. However,
he was in a hurry to gain the point where Stewart had met with the
open sea. On the 19th he resolved to get into the Channel at any price;
the wind blew right on the brig, which might, with her screw, have
stood against it, had not Hatteras been obliged to economise his fuel;
on the other hand, the Channel was too wide to allow the men to haul
the brig along. Hatteras, not considering the men's fatigue, resolved
to have recourse to means often employed by whalers under similar
circumstances. The men took it in turns to row, so as to push the
brig on against the wind. The _Forward_ advanced slowly up the Channel.
The men were worn out and murmured loudly. They went on in that manner
till the 23rd of July, when they reached Baring Island in Queen's
Channel. The wind was still against them. The doctor thought the
health of the men much shaken, and perceived the first symptoms of
scurvy amongst them; he did all he could to prevent the spread of
the wretched malady, and distributed lime-juice to the men.
Hatteras saw that he could no longer count upon his crew; reasoning
and kindness were ineffectual, so he resolved to employ severity for
the future; he suspected Shandon and Wall, though they dare not speak
out openly. Hatteras had the doctor, Johnson, Bell, and Simpson for
him; they were devoted to him body and soul; amongst the undecided
were Foker, Bolton, Wolsten the gunsmith, and Brunton the first
engineer; and they might turn against the captain at any moment; as
to Pen, Gripper, Clifton, and Warren, they were in open revolt; they
wished to persuade their comrades to force the captain to return to
England. Hatteras soon saw that he could not continue to work his
ship with such a crew. He remained twenty-four hours at Baring Island
without taking a step forward. The weather grew cooler still, for
winter begins to be felt in July in these high latitudes. On the 24th
the thermometer fell to 22 degrees. Young ice formed during the night,
and if snow fell it would soon be thick enough to bear the weight
of a man. The sea began already to have that dirty colour which
precedes the formation of the first crystals. Hatteras could not
mistake these alarming symptoms; if the channels got blocked up, he
should be obliged to winter there at a great distance from the point
he had undertaken the voyage in order to reach, without having caught
a glimpse of that open sea which his predecessors made out was so
near. He resolved, then, to gain several degrees further north, at
whatever cost; seeing that he could not employ oars without the rowers
were willing, nor sail in a contrary wind, he gave orders to put steam
on again.