downfall when we were first asked by a kind friend, what the deuce we
came home for? We had a good many _becauses_ ready, but he overturned
them altogether; so we had resort to the usual resource of men in such
a position: we said, "There was a barrier of ice across Wellington
Channel in 1850." Our friend said, "I deny it was a permanent one, for
the Americans drifted through it!" "Indeed!" we exclaimed, "at any rate
there was one there in 1851." "Yes, granted, on the 12th of August; but
you know there was a month of open season left: and, like an honest
man, say how long it would take for that barrier, fifteen or twenty
miles wide, to disperse." "As many hours!" was our reply: "and we have
forsworn in future barriers of ice as well as barriers of land."
What the deuce we came home for? and why we deserted Franklin? were
pleasant questions; and at first we felt inclined to be angry. Those,
however, who asked them had cause and reason for doing so. We were in
the dark as to much that had been arrived at in England. We knew but of
our own limited personal experience, and had had neither time nor
opportunity to compare notes with others. The public at home sat down
with the accumulated evidence of two British expeditions and an
American one. They passed a verdict that Franklin had gone up
Wellington Channel, and that, having gone up there, in obedience to his
country's orders, it was the duty of that country to send after him,
save him, or solve his fate. I for one knew I had done my duty in the
sphere allotted to me, although feeling at first that the public
verdict reflected somewhat upon me as well as others. But "Vox populi,
vox Dei." I bowed tacitly to its decision, until attempts were made to
damp the hopes of the more sanguine,--in fact, to save our credit at
the expense of Franklin's existence. It was time then to reconsider in
all its points the subject of farther search, to compare my own recent
impression of things with facts that were now before the world, and
then to judge for myself whether any one had a right to declaim against
farther efforts to save Franklin's expedition.
Need I say I found none. On comparing the information, the phenomena
observed in our own squadron with those of Captain Penny's, and the
Americans under Lieutenant De Haven, I saw more and more clearly that a
northern sea, an open water, must have been close to us in 1850 and
1851, when we were about Wellington Channel; that that sea was _not_
blocked with ice in 1850, as we had ignorantly supposed; and that as
assuredly as it was proved that Sir John Franklin had not gone to Cape
Walker, nor disobeyed his orders by going to Melville Island, so
certain did it now become that up Wellington Channel he had steered to
that open sea, which, whether limited or encircling the Pole, it was
his object to enter. It was water and an open sea that Franklin wanted
to achieve the North-west Passage; and there it was before him. Can any
one suppose him, accuse him, capable of hesitating to enter it?
Those who will not admit this, have recourse to two infallible Arctic
solutions for the dilemma in which they are placed; it must be either
an impenetrable barrier of ice in Wellington Channel, or the ships must
have been beset in the pack, and have perished, without God's
providence helping them, as it has helped all others similarly placed,
without leaving a single survivor or a vestige of any description. No
such wholesale calamity is on record.
[Headnote: _CHANCES OF FUTURE SUCCESS._]
Let us inquire into this barrier of ice in Wellington Channel. Twice
had Parry seen the channel, in 1819 and 1820; he saw no barrier then.
We reached it in the fall of 1850, after a very backward and severe
summer, with winter fast closing in upon us. We saw long flights of
birds retreating from their summer breeding-places somewhere beyond the
broad fields of ice that lay athwart its channel. We wondered at the
numerous shoals of white whale passing, from some unknown northern
region, southward to more genial climes. We talked of fixed ice, yet in
one day twelve miles of it came away, and nearly beset us amongst its
fragments. We heard Captain Penny's report that there was water to be
seen north of the remaining belt, of about ten miles in width. We were
like deaf adders; we were obstinate, and went into winter quarters
under Griffith's Island, believing that nothing more could be done,
because a barrier of fixed ice extended across Wellington Channel! We
were miserably mistaken.
The expedition under Lieutenant De Haven was then drifting slowly over
the place where we, in our ignorance, had placed fixed ice in our
charts; and to them likewise the wisdom of an all-merciful Providence
revealed the fact of a northern sea of open water, that they might be
additional witnesses in the hour of need. We cannot do better than read
the plain unvarnished tale of the gallant American--a tale of calm
heroism under no ordinary trials, which stamps the document as the
truthful narration of a gentleman and a sailor. He says, after
describing the being beset by young ice in the mouth of Wellington
Channel, and drifting northward, owing to southerly winds,--
"On the 18th September we were above Cape Bowden.... To account for
this drift, the fixed ice of Wellington Channel, which we had observed
in passing to the _westward_, must have been broken up, and driven to
the southward by the heavy gale the 12th (September).
"We continued to drift slowly to the N.N.W. until the 22d, when our
progress appeared to be arrested by a small low island, which was
discovered about seven miles distant.
* * * * *
"_Between Cornwallis Island and some distant high land visible in the
north, appeared a wide channel, leading to the westward._ A dark,
misty-looking cloud which hung over it (technically termed frost-smoke)
was indicative of much open water in that direction.
"Nor was the open water the only indication that presented itself in
confirmation of theoretical conjecture as to a milder climate in that
direction. As we entered Wellington Channel the signs of animal life
became more abundant."
So much, then, for the barrier of ice in Wellington Channel in 1850.
Let us now speak of what was there in 1851. On the 11th of August about
as much fixed floe was remaining in Wellington Channel as had been
found by us on the previous year, _a month later in the season_. On
that occasion, late as it was, we have the evidence of Lieutenant De
Haven to prove the channel opened: why should we doubt it doing so in
1851? An open sea existed on both sides of a belt of ice, rotten, full
of holes, unfit to travel over (as Penny's officers reported it), full
thirty days before the winter set in; is there an Arctic navigator
hardy enough to say he believes that that belt would have been found
there on the next spring-tide after our squadron was liberated from
Griffith's Island? Then, I repeat, if it is allowed that Wellington
Channel was open in 1819, 1820, 1850, and 1851, it is natural to infer
that it was open when Franklin wished to pass through it in 1846, and
that, under such circumstances, he would, in obedience to his orders,
have gone by it to the N.W.
The day has not long passed by when it was tried to be proved, on
_undoubted testimony_, that Barrow's Strait was barred with the
accumulated ice of years,--and this in the face of an autumnal drift of
a naval squadron for 350 miles in the pack of Lancaster. What say these
barrier-builders to the winter drift of the American schooners under
Lieutenant De Haven? Does his marvellous cruise teach us nothing?
Between the 1st of November, 1850, and the 6th of June, 1851, his
squadron was swept in one vast field of ice from the upper part of
Wellington Channel to the southward of Cape Walsingham, in Davis's
Straits, through a tortuous route of full 1000 miles! Yes, reader, the
"Rescue" and "Advance" were beset in young bay-ice in and about
Wellington Channel; but during the winter, amidst the darkness, amidst
fierce gales, when the God of storms alone could and did shield those
brave barks, they and _the ice_ in _which they had been beset_, moved,
with few pauses, steadily and slowly to the Atlantic Ocean, and reached
it by the summer of the following year.
It is true, our expedition was prevented, by ice, from advancing to the
west of Griffith's Island. But let it not be supposed that we came, in
that direction, upon any _fixed_ bar of ice or interminable floe-edge:
far otherwise; for when, as I have elsewhere said, Lieutenant Aldrich
was sent, a few days after our arrival at winter quarters, to travel on
foot to Lowther Island, he found the task a hopeless one, as _water_,
bay-ice, and a broken pack, lay between Somerville Island and it. We,
likewise, in our spring journeys, found ice, smooth as glass, formed,
evidently during the past winter, surrounding Lowther Island. It was
traced by Lieutenant M'Clintock, leading, in exactly the form of the
lead of water found in 1819 and 1820 by Sir E. Parry, in his voyage to
Winter Island; and there can be little doubt, that, beyond the
floe-pieces which choked the channel between Griffith's Island and Cape
Bunny, we should, in 1850, have found water leading us to Winter
Harbour, and up the noble channel north of Byam Martin Island.
Enough of icy barriers. I do not believe in Nature having placed such
fixtures on the "vasty deep;" but I am ready to allow that there are
places in which accumulations of ice naturally exist, and where the ice
moves away less rapidly than in other parts. By looking at the chart,
and taking into consideration the geographical conformation of such
spots, the cause will at once appear.
In a line across the head of Davis's Straits, the pack hangs, because
it is there met, in its downward course, by the whole weight of the
Atlantic Sea, and strong southerly gales blowing up that funnel-shaped
strait. About Leopold Island the pack hangs, for it is acted upon by
the cross-tides of Wellington Channel and Regent's Inlet running
athwart those of Barrow's Strait, and forming a sort of eddy, or still
water. This occurs again in the _elbow_ of Wellington Channel, and
between Griffith's Island and Cape Bunny, where a narrowing strait, and
the cross-tide of the channel towards the American coast, tie up the
broad floes formed in the great water-space west of that point; and
lastly, a similar choke takes place, apparently off the S.W. extreme of
Melville Island.
Failing in barriers, these Job's comforters dismiss the subject by
swallowing up the "Erebus" and "Terror," hull, masts, sails, and crew,
in some especially infernal tempest or convulsion executed for the
occasion: they--the Job's comforters--have no similar case to adduce in
proof of such a catastrophe. Every body who goes to the frozen regions
tells of the hairbreadth escapes and imminent dangers attendant on
Arctic navigation. I am free to acknowledge, I have "piled the agony"
to make my work sell. Behold the "Pioneer" in a nip in Melville Bay;
the "Resolute" thumping the pack off Griffith's Island; the
"Assistance" holding on to a floe-edge with a moving one threatening to
sink her; and the "Intrepid" on the slope of an iceberg, high and dry:
yet all are safe and sound in Woolwich dockyard: the brigs, "Rescue"
and "Advance," beset for 267 days, drifting during a Polar winter 1150
miles, enduring all possible hardship and risk, yet both vessels and
men are safe and sound. Captain Penny's two vessels, the "Lady
Franklin" and "Sophia," if their figure-heads could speak, would "a
tale unfold." Not the most extraordinary part of their adventures was,
being caught in a gale in a bay on the coast of Greenland, and being
forced by a moving iceberg through a field of ice full three feet
thick, the vessels rearing and plunging through it; yet they are all
safe and sound. The "North Star," the "Enterprise," and "Investigator,"
and farther back, the "Terror," farther still, the "Dorothea" and
"Trent," have, with many more we could enumerate, seen no ordinary
Arctic dangers; but, thanks to a merciful Providence, unattended with
loss of life. Why, therefore, in the name of charity, consign those who
are dear to us, as relatives, friends, or countrymen, to sudden death
in the dark waters of Lancaster Sound or Baffin's Bay. No one who knew
the men of that gallant squadron would so libel the leader, or his
officers, as to suppose them to have turned back when at the threshold
of their labours: if he does so, he does them foul injustice. And
against such I appeal, in the name of that humanity which was never
invoked in vain in a Christian land.
Give the lost ones the benefit of the doubt, if there is one on your
minds. Let not selfish indifference to your fellow-creatures' fate
induce you to dismiss the question by adopting any of the horrible
opinions to which unfeeling men have given utterance. True it is, they
are in sad peril; true it is, they have suffered long and much; true it
is, that many may have fallen by the way: but the remnant, however
small, of that heroic band, be assured, by one who knew many of them
intimately and dearly, will despair not, but, trusting in their God,
their Queen, and country, they will cling to hope with life's latest
breath.
They have done their duty: let us not be wanting in ours. The rescue of
Franklin's squadron, or the solution of their fate, entails no
extraordinary risk of life upon the part of those employed in the
search. Insurances to any amount--and I speak from a knowledge of the
fact--may be effected in the various insurance offices in London with a
lighter premium than is demanded for the Bights of Benin or Bengal.
This is a pretty good test, and a sound practical one, too, of the
much-talked-of dangers of Polar navigation. Ships are often lost; but
the very floe which by its pressure sinks the vessel saves the crew.
In short, we have every thing to stimulate Arctic exploration. No loss
of life; (for Franklin it will be time enough to mourn when we know he
is not of the living,) the wonderful proofs lately acquired of a Polar
sea; the undoubted existence of animal life in regions which were
previously supposed to be incapable of supporting animal life; the
result of the deeply philosophical inquiries of the talented
geographer, Mr. Peterman, which seem to establish the fact of an open
Polar sea during the severest season of the year; and lastly, the
existence of Esquimaux in a high northern latitude in Baffin's Bay, who
appear to be so isolated, and so unconnected with their brethren of
South Greenland, as to justify us in connecting them rather with the
numerous ruined habitations found westward as far as Melville Island,
and lead the mind to speculate upon some more northern region,--some
_terra incognita_, yet to be visited by us,--encourages us, aye, urges
us not to halt in our exploration. Humanity and science are united in
the cause: where one falters, let a love for the other encourage us to
persevere.
Franklin and his matchless followers need no eulogy from me; the
sufferings they must have undergone, the mystery that hangs over them,
are on every tongue in every civilized land.
The blooming child lisps Franklin's name, as with glistening eye and
greedy ear it hears of the wonders of the North, and the brave deeds
there done. Youth's bosom glows with generous emotion to emulate the
fame of him who has gone where none as yet have followed. And who
amongst us does not feel his heart throb faster in recalling to
recollection the calm heroism of the veteran leader, who, when about to
enter the unknown regions of which Wellington Channel is the portal,
addressed his crews in those solemn and emphatic words of Holy
Writ,--his motto, doubtless,--"Choose ye this day whom you will serve;"
and found in that blissful choice his strength and his endurance.
To rescue even one life were surely well worthy our best endeavours;
but if it so please an all-merciful Providence that aid should reach
Franklin's ships too late to save even that one, yet would we have
fulfilled a high and imperative duty: and would it be no holy
satisfaction to trace the last resting-place of those gallant spirits?
to recover the records, there assuredly to be found, of their manly
struggle, under hardships and difficulties, in achieving that
North-west Passage, in the execution of which they had laid down their
lives? and to bring back to their surviving relatives and friends those
last kind messages of love, which show that sincere affection and stern
sense of duty sprang from one source in their gallant and generous
hearts?
Yes, of course it would. Then, and not till then--taking this, the
gloomiest view of the subject--shall we have done our duty towards the
captains, officers, and crews of Her Majesty's ships "Erebus" and
"Terror;" and then, and not until then, of their honoured leader we may
safely say:--
"His soul to Him who gave it rose;
God led its long repose,
Its glorious rest!
And though the warrior's sun has set,
Its light shall linger round us yet,
Bright, radiant, blest!"
THE END.