Chapter 11

Kites, which the kind Mr. Benjamin Smith had supplied me with, both as a tractile power to assist us in dragging sledges, as well as a means of signalizing between parties, afforded much interest, and the success of our experiments in applying them to dragging weights was so great, that all those I was able to supply gladly provided themselves with so useful an auxiliary to foot-travellers. Experience, however, taught us how impossible it was to command a fair wind, without which they were useless weight, and in severe weather there was some danger, when handling or coiling up the lines, of having to expose the hands and being frost-bitten.

My attempts failed to despatch the kites with a weight attached sufficient to keep a strain on the string, and so keep the kite aloft, whilst at the same time it was enabled to proceed through the air in any direction I chose; for, as may be conceived, a little too much weight made the kite a fixture, whilst a little too little, or a sudden flaw of wind, would topple the kite over and bring it to the earth. As a means of signalizing between ships when stationary, the flying of kites of different colours, sizes, or numbers, attached one to the other, would, I am sure, in the clear atmosphere of the Arctic regions, be found wonderfully efficacious.

Lastly, we carried out, more I believe from amusement than from any idea of being useful, a plan which had suggested itself to the people of Sir James Ross's expedition when wintering in Leopold Harbour in 1848-49, that of enclosing information in a collar, secured to the necks of the Arctic foxes, caught in traps, and then liberated. Several animals thus entrusted with despatches or records were liberated by different ships; but, as the truth must be told, I fear in many cases the next night saw the poor "postman," as Jack facetiously termed him, in another trap, out of which he would be taken, killed, the skin taken off, and packed away, to ornament, at some future day, the neck of some fair Dulcinea. As a "sub," I was admitted into this secret mystery, or otherwise, I with others might have accounted for the disappearance of the collared foxes by believing them busy on their honourable mission. In order that the crime of killing the "postmen" may be recognized in its true light, it is but fair that I should say, that the brutes, having partaken once of the good cheer on board or around the ships, seldom seemed satisfied with the mere empty honours of a copper collar, and returned to be caught over and over again. Strict laws were laid down for their safety, such as an edict that no fox taken alive in a trap was to be killed: of course no fox was after this taken alive; they were all unaccountably dead, unless it was some fortunate wight whose brush and coat were worthless: in such case he lived either to drag about a quantity of information in a copper collar for the rest of his days, or else to die a slow death, as being intended for Lord Derby's menagerie.

The departure of a postman was a scene of no small merriment: all hands, from the captain to the cook, were out to chase the fox, who, half frightened out of its wits, seemed to doubt which way to run; whilst loud shouts and roars of laughter, breaking the cold, frosty air, were heard from ship to ship, as the fox-hunters swelled in numbers from all sides, and those that could not run mounted some neighbouring hummock of ice, and gave a view halloo, which said far more for robust health than for tuneful melody.

[Headnote: _DESULTORY OCCUPATIONS._]

During the darker period of the winter, and when the uncertainty of the weather was such that, from a perfect calm and clear weather, a few hours would change the scene to a howling tempest and thick drift, in which, if one had been caught, death must inevitably have followed, great care was necessary in taking our walks, to prevent being so overtaken; but, nevertheless, walks of seven or eight miles from the vessels were, on several occasions, performed, and a severe temperature faced and mastered with perfect indifference. I remember well on the 13th January seeing mercury, in a solid mass, with a temperature of 40° below zero, and being one of a good many who had taken three hours hard walking for mere pleasure.

We joked not a little at the fireside stories at home, of bitter cold nights, and being frozen to death on some English heath: it seemed to us so incredible that people should be frost-bitten, because the air was below freezing point; whilst we should have hailed with delight the thermometer standing at zero, and indeed looked forward to such a state of our climate, as people in the temperate zone would to May sunshine and flowers.

With the increasing twilight, many an anxious eye was cast from the top of Griffith's Island, to see the prospect of good foot-travelling offered by the floe: it cannot have been said to be cheering, for broken and hummocky ice met the eye whichever way one looked, with here and there a small smooth space; and if it looked so from the heights, we knew full well that when actually amongst those hummocks, the travelling would be arduous indeed. There was some time yet, however, to elapse before the tussle commenced; and many a snow-storm had time meanwhile to rage. With seamen's sanguineness, we trusted that they would fill up the hollows, and help to smooth over the broken pack; any way, we all knew "a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether," would master more difficulties than as yet had shown themselves in the Arctic regions.

Such were our occupations, such the amusements, such the hopes and fears of our winter quarters off Griffith's Island; and looking back now at that period, we happily forget its dreariness, and recollect only its brighter moments--the fast friendship there formed for many, the respect and admiration for all.

_February 7th, 1851._--The stentorian lungs of the "Resolute's" boatswain hailed, to say the sun was in sight from the mast-head; and in all the vessels the rigging was soon manned to get the first glimpse of the returning god of day. Slowly it rose, and loud and hearty cheers greeted the return of an orb whom the world, without the frozen zone, does not half appreciate, because he is always with them. For ninety-six days it had not gladdened us, and now its return put fresh life into our night-wearied bodies. For a whole hour we feasted ourselves with admiring the sphere of fire, which illumined without warming us; and, indeed, the cold now increased rather than otherwise, and our lowest temperature and severest weather did not occur until March.

[Headnote: _PREPARATIONS FOR TRAVELLING._]

Preparations for spring travelling were now hastened; daily committees of officers met, by order, to discuss every point, and receive, approve, or reject proposals and plans. Every soul, high and low, exerted his ingenuity and abilities to invent articles, portable and useful for travellers; whilst others sent in to the leader of the expedition schemes of search, in which distances, directions, weights, and material were duly considered. Hopes rose high, as every one felt that the field was thrown open to individual ability and skill. Every one, naturally, (for orders "to put the men in training" did not come out until afterwards,) commenced to "harden up" for the labour before them. Zealous individuals might be daily seen trying all sorts of patents. Out of their hard-earned wages some of the men bought and made sails of peculiar cut for their sledges; others, after the "working hours" were over, constructed water-bottles, velocipedes, cooking-tins; in fact, neither pains nor trouble were spared--officers and men vying in zeal.

Early in March an interchange of visits between our squadron and that under Captain Penny opened the communication. His vessels had got through the winter equally well with ourselves, and he, in like manner, was hard at work, preparing for the foot journeys; and, as no sledges or other equipment had been brought by him from England, in consequence of his hurried departure, every nerve had to be strained, and every resource called into existence, to enable him to overcome his difficulties in lack of material.

On the 8th of March, at 11 A.M., the temperature in the shade having been a couple of hours previously at 41° below zero, and mercury solid in the open air, we were delighted to see a solitary drop of water trickle down the black paint of the "Pioneer's" side: at that moment, oddly enough, the temperature in the shade was 36°--, and in the sun the thermometer only rose to 2° below zero! Water, however, it undoubtedly was, and as such we cheerfully hailed it, to prove the increasing heat of the sun, and to promise a coming summer. All March was a scene of constant business, diversified with sledge parades and amusing military evolutions, recalling to our minds unpleasant recollections of sweltering field-days and grand parades.

Having briefly touched upon the leading incidents connected with our winter, and brought events up to the preparations for a search on foot, it may not here be out of place to give a brief sketch of the causes which had brought about the necessity for so many Englishmen to be sojourning in these inclement regions, as well as occasioned the voyage of that distinguished navigator whose squadron we hoped to rescue.

The seamen of Northern Europe, the Norsemen and Scandinavians, seem, from the earliest records extant, to have sought for the glory attendant upon braving the perils of Polar Seas. From A.D. 860 to 982, from the sea-rover Naddod's discovery of Iceland, to Eirek "of the Red Hand's" landing on Greenland, near Hergolf's Ness, neither wreck, disaster, nor tempest, checked the steady, onward march of their explorations; robbing, as they eventually did a century afterwards, the immortal Genoese of one half his honours, by actually landing, under the pirate Biarni, on the new continent south of the river St. Lawrence.

In Greenland, a hardy race, the descendants of the Northland warriors, appear to have multiplied; for, in A.D. 1400, a flourishing colony stood on this threshold of the new world; converted to Christianity, the cathedral of Garda had been constructed, and the archives in Iceland proved it to have been successively held by no less than seventeen bishops; the colonies were known under the general terms of East and West Bygd (Bight), and numbered in all sixteen parishes, and two hundred and eighty farms, numerously populated.

[Headnote: _NORTH-WEST DISCOVERY._]

Strict commercial monopoly, and the naturally secluded position of the Scandinavian colony in Greenland, seemed to have occasioned its perfect decadence, or, otherwise, as traditions tell us, a sudden hostile inroad of the Esquimaux swept off the isolated Europeans: from either cause there remained, after the lapse of two centuries, but the moss-covered ruins of a few churches, some Runic inscriptions, and the legends of the Esquimaux, who talked of a tall, fair-haired race, their giants of old.

The heirloom of the northern pirates, the dominion of the sea, passed, however, into England's hands, and with it that same daring love of the difficult and unknown, which had led the Viking from conquest to conquest: and whilst southern Europe sought for the wealth of the Indies in the more genial regions of the south, English seamen pushed their barks to the west, in the boisterous seas of high northern latitudes. Confining myself purely to those who essayed the passage to Cathay Cipango, and the Indies, by the north-west, first on the glorious scroll stands Frobisher. That sturdy seaman of Elizabeth's gallant navy, on the 11th of July, 1576, with three craft, whose united burden only amounted to _seventy-five tons_,--this "proud admiral" sighted the east coast of Greenland, in 61° north latitude. Unable to approach it for ice, which then, as now, hampers the whole of that coast, he was next blown by a gale far to the south-west on to the coast of Labrador, reaching eventually to 63° north latitude, and landing in Frobisher's Straits. He extricated his vessels with difficulty, and returned home, carrying a quantity of mica, which was mistaken for gold; and awakening the cupidity of the court, nobles, and merchants, three more expeditions sailed, exhibiting laudable courage and skill, but adding little to our geographical knowledge.

Such a succession of miscarriages damped the ardour for north-west discovery for a while; until, in 1535, "divers worshipful merchants of London, and the West country, moved by the desire of advancing God's glory, and the good of their native land," equipped "John Davis" for a voyage of discovery to the unknown regions of the north-west.

Piteous as were his hardships--doleful as were his tales of the "lothsome view of y^e shore, and y^e irksome noyse of y^e yce," "y^e stinking fogs and cruelle windes" of Desolation Land--the seamen of that day seemed each to have determined to see and judge for himself, and ably were they supported by the open-handed liberality of wealthy private individuals, and the corporation of London merchants; whose minds, if we may judge of them by such men as Sir John Wolstenholme, Digges, Jones, and others, soared far above Smithfield nuisances and committees on sewers. After Davis we see Waymouth, then Hudson, who perished amid the scenes of his hardships and honours. Captains Button and Bylot, followed by the ablest, the first of Arctic navigators--Baffin,--he sweeping, in one short season, round the great bay which records his fame, showed us of the present day the high-road to the west; and did more; for he saw more of that coast than we modern seamen have yet been able to accomplish. Lastly, in that olden time, we have the sagacious and quaint Nor-West Fox, carrying our flag to the head of Hudson's Bay; whilst James's fearful sufferings in the southern extreme of the same locality, completed, for a while, the labours of British seamen in these regions.

[Headnote: _ENGLISH N.W. DISCOVERIES._]

A lull then took place, perhaps occasioned by the granting of a charter to certain noblemen and merchants in 1668, under the title of "Governor and Company of Adventurers of England," trading into Hudson's Bay, with the understanding that the discovery of a north-west passage was to be persevered in by them. During a century, they accomplished, by their servants, "Hearne and Mackenzie,"--the former in 1771, and the latter in 1789,--the tracing of the Copper-mine and the Mackenzie rivers to their embouchures into an arctic sea in the 70° parallel of north latitude; whilst a temporary interest, on the part of Great Britain, during the reign of George the Third, occasioned two names, dear to every seaman's recollection, to be associated with the accomplishment of geographical discovery in the same direction: the one was Nelson, who served with Captain Phipps, afterwards Lord Mulgrave, in his attempt to pass over the Pole; and the other, the greatest of English navigators--Cook, who, in 1776, failed to round the American continent by coming to the eastward from Behring's Straits.

At the commencement of the current century, our knowledge of the northern coast of the American continent amounted to a mere fraction. On the west, Cook had hardly penetrated beyond Behring's Straits; and on the east, Hudson's and Baffin's Bay formed the limit of our geographical knowledge; except at two points, where the sea had been seen by Hearne and Mackenzie.

Shortly after the Peace, one whose genius and ability were only to be equalled by his perseverance, the late Sir John Barrow, Secretary of the Admiralty, turned his attention to Arctic discovery, and especially the north-west passage. He had himself been to Spitzbergen, and as far north as the 80th parallel of latitude. Combating the prejudiced, convincing the doubtful, and teaching the ignorant, he awakened national pride and professional enterprise in a cause in which English seamen had already won high honours, and Great Britain's glory was especially involved. What difficulties he mastered, and how well he was seconded by others, and none more so than by the enlightened First Lord of the Admiralty, Viscount Melville, Sir John Barrow himself has told, in the able volumes which imperishably chronicle the deeds of ancient and modern explorers in Polar regions. Since 1818, with the exception of Sir John Ross's first voyage, we may have been said to have constantly added to our knowledge of the north-west.

It was in 1819 that Parry sailed to commence that magnificent series of discoveries which, since completed by Franklin, Richardson, Beechey, the Rosses, Back, Simpson, and Rae, have left us, after thirty-five years of well-spent toil and devotion, in perfect possession of the geographical features of Arctic America, and added _three thousand six hundred and eighty miles_ of coast-line to our Polar charts. Is this nothing? If the mere _quid pro quo_ is required of public servants, surely the Arctic navigator has far better repaid to his country the pay and food he has received at her hands than those who, in a time of universal peace, idle through year after year of foreign service in her men-of-war; and most assuredly, if we are proud of our seamen's fame and our naval renown, where can we look for nobler instances of it than amongst the records of late Arctic voyages and journeys. The calm, heroic sufferings of Franklin,--always successful, let the price be what it would; the iron resolution of Richardson; Back's fearful winter march to save his comrades; the devoted Hepburn, who, old though he be, could not see his former leader perish without trying to help him, and, whilst I write these lines, is again braving an Arctic winter in the little "Prince Albert;" Parry, who knew so well to lead and yet be loved; James Ross, of iron frame, establishing, by four consecutive years of privation and indomitable energy, that high character which enabled him to carry an English squadron to the unvisited shores of Victoria Land at the southern pole; and lastly, the chivalrous men, who, again under Franklin, have launched, in obedience to their Queen and country, into the unknown regions between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, to execute their mission or fall in the attempt.

[Headnote: _NORTH-WEST DISCOVERY._]

It was to save these devoted servants, that the spring of 1851 saw full 500 British and American seamen within the frigid zone. That portion of them that had come by Baffin's Bay had been so far successful in their mission, that they had dispelled all the visions--gratuitous enough--of Franklin having perished by shipwreck or other disaster in his passage across the bay.

We had seen his winter quarters; we had seen his lookout posts, and the trail of his explorations. They all said, Onward! To be sure, we did not at once know by which route he had gone onward. The uncertainty, however, gave a spur to those about to be engaged in the searching parties, and each man thought there were especial reasons for believing one particular route to be the true one. The majority--indeed all those who gave the subject any consideration--believed Franklin to have gone either by Cape Walker, or to the north-west by Wellington Channel.

Hope, thank God, rode high in every breast, and already did the men begin to talk of what they would do with their new shipmates from the "Erebus" and "Terror" when they had them on board their respective ships: and I have no doubt they would have done as one gallant fellow replied, when I asked him if he thought himself equal to dragging 200 lbs., "O yes, sir, and Sir John Franklin too, when we find him."

Increasing light, decreasing cold, plenty to do, and certain anticipations upon each man's part, that he would be the fortunate one to find and save Franklin, made the month of April come in on us before we had time to think of it, but not before we were ready.

The original intention was for the sledges to have started on the different routes laid down by our commodore on the 8th of April; but a fall of temperature on the 6th altered this plan, and a delay of one week was decided upon. I therefore availed myself of the occasion to visit Captain Penny's winter quarters; proceeding there on the dog-sledge of Mr. Petersen, who happened to be on board our vessel at the time.

Nothing, I conceive, can be more exhilarating than dog-sledging in the Arctic regions on a fine day, especially when, as in my case, the whole affair has the charm of novelty. The rattling pace of the dogs, their intelligence in choosing the road through the broken ice; the strict obedience paid by the team to one powerful dog whom they elect as leader; the arbitrary exercise of authority by the said leader; the constant use of the whip, and a sort of running conversation kept up by the driver with the different dogs, who well knew their names, as in turn Sampson! Caniche! Foxey! Terror! &c., &c., were duly anathematized, afforded constant amusement; apart from Petersen's conversation, which was replete with interest, and the information he gave me of the distances accomplished on the coast of Greenland by the Danes with dog-sledges, made me regret much we had not provided ourselves with a team or two for accomplishing any necessarily rapid journey.

When Mr. Petersen, at Uppernavik, had so nobly thrown up an appointment under the Danish crown to serve as interpreter with Penny in the search for Franklin, he brought with him a sledge and a few dogs: these had twice littered, and the numerous puppies were already grown into serviceable dogs, forming two efficient teams. The major part of the winter, scarcity of food, such as seal and bear, had told severely upon the poor creatures; but an Esquimaux dog lives on little when not worked; and, with a little oatmeal and grease, they had all outlived the severe season; and some bear's flesh having been luckily procured, there was every probability of good service being rendered by them. Our rate of travelling was over five miles per hour, and though making a considerable détour to avoid broken ice, I was shaking Penny by the hand four hours after leaving the "Pioneer:" the distance between the squadrons being about twenty miles in a straight line.

[Headnote: _ADVANTAGE OF WINTERING IN HARBOUR._]

I was much struck with the great advantage of wintering in harbour, and near the shore, over a position, such as our squadron's, in the midst of the floe. There was a cheerfulness in the vicinity of the land, barren though it was, quite refreshing to one who had always a mile to walk during the winter to reach Griffith's Island, or remain satisfied with the monotony of the ice-field around the "Pioneer." Besides being snug in harbour, Captain Penny, satisfied of the security of his vessels, intended to leave only one man in each of them,--every other soul being told off for sledge-parties,--whereas our squadron would have some sixty men and officers left behind to take care of them, exposed as they were to be swept into Barrow's Strait, or farther, by any sudden disruption of the ice. I, therefore, mentally gave my adhesion to the opinion expressed by authorities at home, to secure winter quarters in some bay or harbour, and not to winter in the pack, unless it is unavoidable.

The oldest English officer who had ever wintered within the Arctic circle on a voyage of discovery, Sir John Ross, was not likely to be forgotten by me; and I sincerely congratulated the veteran on his escape from sickness during the past winter: and, though a wonderful instance of physical endurance, I, with others, could not but feel regret that a Naval officer so advanced in years, and who had served so long, should be necessitated to undergo privations, of which those who did not witness them can form no conception.