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 sown
in the garden had decayed away. A few hundred yards lower down, a
mound, the foundation of a storehouse, was next to be seen; the
ground-plan was somewhat thus:--
[Illustration: North side, 61-1/2 feet long.
A B. B D. } Exterior embankments, about four feet through at the
A C. E F. } base and five feet high, in which posts had been sunk.
K L. } An interior embankment of same description enclosing
} a space, supposed store; had marks of posts in it
} likewise.
C E. and F D. } The doorways.
H. } Evidently a carpenter's workshop, from the shavings,
&c.]
It consisted of an exterior and interior embankment, into which, from
the remnants left, we saw that oak and elm scantling had been struck as
props to the roofing; in one part of the enclosed space some coal-sacks
were found, and in another part numerous wood-shavings proved the
ship's artificers to have been working here. The generally received
opinion as to the object of this storehouse was, that Franklin had
constructed it to shelter a portion of his superabundant provisions and
stores, with which it was well known his decks were lumbered on leaving
Whale-Fish Islands.
Nearer to the beach, a heap of cinders and scraps of iron showed the
armourer'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 this 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
at 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. This I from experience now know to be
true.
Looking at the spot on which Penny had discovered a boarding-pike, and
comparing it with a projecting point on the opposite side, where a
similar article had been found with a finger nailed on it as a
direction-post, I concluded that, in a line between these two
boarding-pikes, one or both of the ships had been at anchor, and this
conjecture was much borne out by the relative positions of the other
traces found; and besides this, a small cairn on the crest of Beechey
Island appears to have been intended as a meridian mark, and, if so,
Franklin's squadron undoubtedly lay where I would place it, far and
effectually removed from all risk of being swept out of the bay, which,
by the bye, from the fact of the enclosed area being many times broader
than the entrance of "Erebus and Terror Bay," was about as probable as
any stout gentleman being blown out of a house through the keyhole. In
the one case the stout individual would have to be cut up small, in the
other case the ice would have to be well broken up; and if so, it was
not likely Franklin would allow himself to be taken out of harbour,
_nolens volens_, whilst he had anchors to hook the ground with, and
ice-saws, with which his crews could have cut through _a mile of ice
three feet thick in twenty-four hours_.
[Headnote: _GRAVES OF SEAMEN._]
The graves next attracted our attention; they, like all that English
seamen construct, were scrupulously neat. Go where you will over the
globe's surface, afar in the East, or afar in the West, down amongst
the coral-girded isles of the South Sea, or here where the grim North
frowns on the sailor's grave, you will always find it alike; it is the
monument raised by rough hands, but affectionate hearts, over the last
home of their messmate; it breathes of the quiet church-yard in some of
England's many nooks, where each had formed his idea of what was due to
departed worth; and the ornaments that Nature decks herself with, even
in the desolation of the Frozen Zone, were carefully culled to mark the
dead seamen's home. The good taste of the officers had prevented the
general simplicity of an oaken head and foot-board to each of the three
graves being marred by any long and childish epitaphs, or the doggerel
of a lower-deck poet, and the three inscriptions were as follows:--
"Sacred to the memory of J. Torrington, who departed this life,
January 1st, 1846, on board of H.M.S. 'Terror,' aged 20 years."
"Sacred to the memory of Wm. Braine, R.M., of H.M.S. 'Erebus;' died
April 3d, 1846, aged 32 years.
"'Choose ye this day whom ye will serve.'--Josh. xxiv. 15."
"Sacred to the memory of J. Hartwell, A.B., of H.M.S. 'Erebus;'
died January 4th, 1846, aged 25 years.
"'Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, consider your ways.'--Haggai i. 7."
I thought I traced in the epitaphs over the graves of the men from the
"Erebus," the manly and Christian spirit of Franklin. In the true
spirit of chivalry, he, their captain and leader, led them amidst
dangers and unknown difficulties with iron will stamped upon his brow,
but the words of meekness, gentleness, and truth, were his device. We
have seen his career and we know his deeds!
"Why should their praise in verse be sung?
The name that dwells on every tongue
No minstrel needs."
From the graves, a tedious ascent up the long northern slope of Beechey
Island carried us to the table-land, on whose southern verge, a cairn
of stones, to which I have before referred, was placed; it had been
several times pulled down by different searchers, and dug up
underneath, but carefully replaced. The position was an admirable one,
and appeared as if intentionally chosen to attract the attention of
vessels coming up Barrow's Strait: from it, on the day I was up, the
view was so extensive, that, did I not feel certain of being supported
by all those who have, like myself, witnessed the peculiar clearness,
combined with refraction, of the atmosphere in Polar climes, I should
bear in mind the French adage,--"La verité n'est pas toujours le
vraisemblable," and hold my peace.
To the west, the land of Cornwallis Island stretched up Wellington
Channel for many miles, and Cape Hotham locked with Griffith's Island.
In the south-west a dark mass of land showed Cape Walker, and from Cape
Bunny, the southern shore of Barrow's Strait spread itself until
terminated in the steep wall-like cliffs of Cape Clarence and Leopold
Island.
This latter spot, so interesting from having been the winter quarters
of the late relieving squadron under Sir James Ross, looked
ridiculously close,--to use a seaman's term, it appeared as if a
biscuit might have been tossed upon it; and the thought involuntarily
rose to one's mind,--Would to God that, in 1848, Sir James Ross had
known that within forty miles of him Franklin had wintered.
I have now nearly enumerated all the important points, to which, at all
hours of the day and night, parties from the eight vessels assembled in
Union Bay were constantly wending their way and returning; but around
the whole island there were abundant proofs of the missing expedition
having been no sluggards; for there was hardly a foot of the beach-line
which did not show signs of their having been there before us, either
in shooting excursions or other pursuits, and usually in the shape of a
preserved-meat tin, a piece of rope, or a strip of canvas or rag.
[Headnote: _BEECHEY ISLAND._]
On the eastern extreme of Beechey Island, and under a beetling cliff
which formed the entrance to the bay, a very neatly-paved piece of
ground denoted a tent-place; much pains had been bestowed upon it, and
a pigmy terrace had been formed around their abode, the margin of which
was decorated with moss and poppy plants: in an adjacent gully a
shooting-gallery had been established, as appeared by the stones placed
at proper distances, and a large tin marked "Soup and Bouilli," which,
perforated with balls, had served for a target. I carefully scanned the
flat slabs of slaty limestone, of which the over-hanging cliffs were
formed, in hopes of seeing some name, or date, scratched upon the
surface; some clue, mayhap, to the information we so dearly longed
for,--the route taken by Franklin on sailing hence, whether to Cape
Walker or up Wellington Channel. But, no; the silent cliff bore no
mark; by some fatality, the proverbial love for marking their names, or
telling their tales, on every object, which I have ever found in
seamen, was here an exception, and I turned to my vessel, after three
unprofitable walks on Beechey Island, with the sad conviction on my
mind, that, instead of being able to concentrate the wonderful
resources we had now at hand about Beechey Island in one line of
search, we should be obliged to take up the three routes which it was
probable Franklin might have taken in 1846; viz., S.W. by Cape Walker,
N.W. by Wellington Channel, or W. by Melville Island,--a division of
force tending to weaken the chance of reaching Franklin as quickly as
we could wish, unless circumstances were peculiarly favourable.
Vague reports of some of Captain Penny's people having seen
sledge-marks on the eastern shores of "Erebus and Terror Bay," induced
one of the officers of the "Pioneer" and myself to arrange with Captain
Penny to take a walk in that direction.
Landing on the north shore of Union Bay, at the base of the cliffs of
Cape Spencer, we were soon pointed out a deep sledge-mark, which had
cut through the edge of one of the ancient tide-marks, or terraces, and
pointed in a direct line from the cairn of meat-tins erected by
Franklin, on the northern spur of Beechey Island, to a valley which led
towards the bay between Capes Innis and Bowden. I conceived the trail
to be that of an outward-bound sledge, on account of its depth, which
denoted a heavily-ladened one.
Proceeding onward, our party were all much struck with the
extraordinary regularity of the terraces, which, with almost artificial
parallelism, swept round the base of the limestone cliffs and hills of
North Devon. That they were ancient tidal-marks, now raised to a
considerable elevation above the sea by the upheaval of the land, I was
the more inclined to believe, from the numerous fossil shells,
crustacea, and corallines which strewed the ground. The latter
witnesses to a once more genial condition of climate in these now
inclement regions, carried us back to the sun-blest climes, where the
blue Pacific lashes the coral-guarded isles of sweet Otaheite, and I
must plead guilty to a recreant sigh for past recollections and dear
friends, all summoned up by the contemplation of a fragment of
fossil-coral.
[Headnote: _SLEDGE TRAILS._]
The steep abutment of the cliffs on the north of "Erebus and Terror
Bay," obliged us to descend to the floe, along the surface of which we
rapidly progressed, passing the point on which the pike used by
Franklin's people as a direction-post had been found. At a point where
these said cliffs receded to the N.E., and towards the head of
Gascoigne Inlet, leaving a long strip of low land, which, connecting
itself with the bluffs of Cape Riley, forms the division between
Gascoigne Inlet and "Erebus and Terror Bay," a perfect congery of
sledge-marks showed the spot used for the landing-place, or rendezvous,
of Franklin's sledges.
Some of these sledge-marks swept towards Cape Riley, doubtless towards
the traces found by the "Assistance;" others, and those of
heavily-ladened sledges, ran northward, into a gorge through the hills,
whilst the remainder pointed towards Caswell's Tower, a remarkable mass
of limestone, which, isolated at the bottom of Radstock Bay, forms a
conspicuous object to a vessel approaching this neighbourhood from the
eastward or westward.
Deciding to follow the latter trail, we separated the party in such a
manner, that, if one lost the sledge-marks, others would pick them up.
Arriving at the margin of a lake, which was only one of a series, and
tasted decidedly brackish, though its connection with the sea was not
apparent, we found the site of a circular tent, unquestionably that of
a shooting-party from the "Erebus" or "Terror." The stones used for
keeping down the canvas lay around; three or four large ones, well
blackened by smoke, had been the fire-place; a porter-bottle or two,
several meat-tins, pieces of paper, birds' feathers, and scraps of the
fur of Arctic hares, were strewed about. Eagerly did we run from one
object to the other, in the hope of finding some stray note or record,
to say whether all had been well with them, and whither they had gone.
No, not a line was to be found. Disappointed, but not beaten, we turned
to follow up the trail.
The sledge-marks consisted of two parallel lines, about two feet apart,
and sometimes three or four inches deep into the gravel, or broken
limestone, of which the whole plain seemed to be formed. The difficulty
of dragging a sledge over such ground, and under such circumstances,
must have been great, and, between the choice of evils, the
sledge-parties appeared at last to have preferred taking to the slope
of the hills, as being easier travelling than the stony plain. A
fast-rising gale, immediately in our faces, with thick, driving snow
and drift, suddenly obscured the land about us, and rendered our
progress difficult and hazardous.
After edging to the northward for some time, as if to strike the head
of Gascoigne Inlet, the trail struck suddenly down upon the plain: we
did the same, and as suddenly lost our clue, though there was no doubt
on any of our minds, but that the sledge had gone towards Caswell's
Tower; for us to go there was, however, now impossible, having no
compass, and the snow-storm preventing us seeing more than a few
hundred yards ahead. We therefore turned back walking across the higher
grounds direct for the head of Union Bay, a route which gave us
considerable insight into the ravine-rent condition of this limestone
country, at much cost of bodily fatigue to ourselves. The glaciers in
the valleys, or ravines, hardly deserved the name, after the monsters
we had seen in Baffin's Bay, and, I should think, in extraordinary
seasons, they often melted away altogether, for, in spite of so severe
a one as the present year had been, there was but little ice remaining.
The gale raged fiercely as the day drew on, and, on getting sight of
Wellington Channel, the wild havoc amongst the ice made us talk
anxiously of that portion of our squadron which was now on the opposite
or lee side of the channel, as well as the American squadron that had
pushed up to the edge of the fixed ice beyond Point Innis.
Seven hours' hard walking left us pretty well done up by the time we
tumbled into our boat, and, thanks to the stalwart strokes of Captain
Stewart's oar, we soon reached the "Pioneer," and enjoyed our dinner
with more than the usually keen appetite of Arctic seamen.
[Headnote: _WELLINGTON CHANNEL._]
Such were the traces found in and about Franklin's winter quarters: one
good result had arisen from, their discovery,--the safe passage of
Franklin across the dangers of Baffin's Bay was no longer a question;
this was a certainty, and it only remained for us to ascertain which
route he had taken, and then to follow him.
Wellington Channel engrossed much attention; the Americans, with true
go-ahead spirit, watched the ice in it most keenly. The gallant
commander of their expedition, De Haven, had already more than once
pushed his craft up an angle of water north of Point Innis; his second,
Mr. Griffin, in the "Rescue," was hard at work obtaining angles, by
which to ascertain the fact of Wellington Channel being a channel or a
fiord, a point as yet undecided, for there was a break in the land to
the N.W. which left the question still at issue.
Captain Penny, with his vessels, got under weigh one day, and ran over
towards the "Assistance," as far as the pack would allow him, and then
despatched an officer with a boat to communicate our intelligence as
well as his own; a sudden change of weather obliged Penny to return,
and the boat's crew of the "Lady Franklin," on their way back, under
Mr. John Stuart, underwent no small risk and labour. They left the
"Assistance" to walk to their boat, which had been hauled on the ice; a
thick fog came on; the direction was with difficulty maintained; no
less than eleven bears were seen prowling around the party; the boat
was found by mere accident, and, after fourteen hours' incessant
walking and pulling, Mr. Stuart succeeded in reaching the "Lady
Franklin."
Through him we learnt that Cape Hotham and the neighbourhood of Barlow
Inlet showed no sign of having been visited by Franklin, that the pack
was close home against the land, and that the "Assistance" and
"Intrepid" had been subject to some pressure, but were all safe and
sound.
Almost every hour during our detention in Union Bay, large flights of
wild fowl, principally geese and eider ducks, flew past us, as if they
had come down Wellington Channel, and were making away to the
southward; this certain indication of approaching winter was not to be
mistaken, and we anxiously counted the hours which kept flitting past,
whilst we were chained up in Union Bay.
South-easterly winds forced the pack tighter and tighter in Wellington
Channel, and once or twice it threatened to beset us even in Union Bay;
and on the 31st of August our position was still the same, the
Americans being a little in advance, off Point Innis.
From the 1st to the 4th of September, we lay wishing for an opening,
the Americans working gallantly along the edge of the fixed ice of
Wellington Channel, towards Barlow Inlet.
September the 5th brought the wished-for change. A lead of water.
Hurrah! up steam! take in tow! every one's spirits up to the
high-top-gallant of their joy; long streaks of water showing across
Wellington Channel, out of which broad floe-pieces were slowly sailing,
whilst a hard, cold appearance in the northern sky betokened a
northerly breeze.
[Headnote: _THE WHITE WHALE._]
With the "Resolute" fast astern, the "Pioneer" slipped round an
extensive field of ice; as it ran aground off Cape Spencer, shutting
off in our rear Captain Penny's brigs and the "Felix," another mass of
ice at the same time caught on Point Innis, and, unable to get past it,
we again made fast, sending a boat to watch the moment the ice should
float, and leave us a passage to the westward. Whilst thus secured, we
had abundant amusement and occupation in observing the movements of
shoals of white whales. They were what the fishermen on board called
"running" south, a term used to express the steady and rapid passage of
the fish from one feeding-ground to the other. From the mast-head, the
water about us appeared filled with them, whilst they constantly rose
and blew, and hurried on, like the birds we had lately seen, to better
regions in the south. That they had been north to breed was undoubted,
by the number of young "calves" in every shoal. The affection between
mother and young was very evident; for occasionally some stately white
whale would loiter on her course, as if to scrutinize the new and
strange objects now floating in these unploughed waters, whilst the
calf, all gambols, rubbed against the mother's side, or played about
her. The proverbial shyness of these fish was proved by our fishermen
and sportsmen to be an undoubted fact, for neither with harpoon nor
rifle-ball could they succeed in capturing any of them.
It was a subject of deep interest and wonder to see this migration of
animal life, and I determined, directly leisure would enable me, to
search the numerous books with which we were well stored, to endeavour
to satisfy my mind with some reasonable theory, founded upon the
movements of bird and fish, as to the existence of a Polar ocean or a
Polar continent.
A sudden turn of tide, which floated the ice that had for some hours
been aground on Point Innis and Cape Spencer, and carried it out of
Wellington Channel, which favourable tide I therefore conjectured to be
the flood, enabled the "Pioneer" and "Resolute" to start across
Wellington Channel, towards Barlow Inlet.
Northward of us, ran, almost in a straight line, east and west, the
southern edge of a body of ice, which we then imagined, in our
ignorance, to be _fixed_, extending northward,--aye, to the very pole;
for in the rumour of it being a mere fiord, or gulf, I had no belief,
nor any one else who crossed it in our ships. The day was beautifully
clear, and a cold, hard sky enabled us to see the land of North
Somerset most distinctly, though thirty to forty miles distant; and yet
nothing appeared resembling land in the northern part of Wellington
Channel. More than one of us regretted the prospect of this yet
unsearched route remaining so, and the racing mania for Melville Island
and Cape Walker bore for all of us this day its fruit--unavailing
regret.
A fresh and favourable gale from the northward raised our spirits and
hopes, late as it now was in the season, and already, with the
adventurous feelings of seamen, we began to calculate what distance
might yet be achieved, should the breeze but last for two or three
days. The space to be traversed, even to Behring's Straits, was a mere
nothing; and all our disappointments, all our foiled anticipations,
were forgotten, in the light-heartedness brought about by a day of open
water and a few hours of a fair wind. As we rattled along the lane of
blue water which wound gracefully ahead to the westward, the shores of
Cornwallis Island rapidly revealed themselves, and offered little that
was striking or picturesque. One uniform tint of russet-brown clothed
the land, as the sun at eight in the evening sunk behind the ice-bound
horizon of Wellington Channel.
Novel and striking as were the colours thrown athwart the cold, hard
sky by the setting orb, I thought with a sigh of those gay and
flickering shades which beautify the heavens in the tropics, when the
fierce sun sinks to his western rest. No gleams of purple and gold lit
up the hill-tops; no fiery streaks of sunlight streamed across the
water, or glittered on the wave. No! all was cold and silent as the
grave. In heaven alone there appeared sunshine and vitality:--it was
rightly so. Frost was fast claiming its dominion, for, with declining
sunlight, the space of water between the pack and the floe became a
sheet of young ice, about the one-eighth of an inch in thickness.
[Headnote: _CROSSING WELLINGTON CHANNEL._]
The "Assistance" and "Intrepid" were gone, it was very evident; but the
American squadron was observed in Barlow Inlet. As we approached them,
at two o'clock in the morning, they were to be seen firing muskets. We
therefore put our helms down, and performed, by the help of the screw,
figures of eight in the young ice, until a boat had communicated with
Commander De Haven, from whom we learned that one of his vessels was
aground in the inlet, and that it was no place for us to go into,
unless we wanted to remain there. The passage to the westward, round
Cape Hotham, was likewise blocked up, and no alternative remained but
to make fast to the floe to the north of us. This was done, and just in
time; for a smart breeze from the S.E. brought up a great deal of ice,
and progress in any direction was impossible.