Chapter 7

Leaving us in high spirits at the receipt of such glorious intelligence, Captain Stewart proceeded in his boat to search the coast-line towards Gascoigne Inlet and Caswell's Tower. We continued to steam on; off Cape Riley a boat was despatched to examine the record left by the "Assistance;" and, from her, I heard that the "Prince Albert," which had been ordered by Lady Franklin down Regent's Inlet to Brentford Bay, had visited the said cairn, deposited a document to say so, and was gone, I now felt certain, home.

As the "Pioneer" slowly steamed through the loose ice which lay off Beechey Island, the cairn erected by Franklin's people on the height above us was an object of deep interest and conversation; and, placed so conspicuously as it was, it seemed to say to the beating heart, "Follow them that erected me!"

On rounding the western point, three brigs and a schooner were seen to be fast to the land ice in Union Bay; and, as we had been in the habit of almost scraping the cliffs in Baffin's Bay, I, forgetting the difference between the approach to a granite and a limestone cliff, and desirous to avoid the stream of ice now pouring out of Wellington Channel, went too close to the shore, and eventually ran aground; the "Resolute" just saved herself by slipping the tow-rope, and letting go an anchor. A rapidly-falling tide soon showed me that I must be patient and wait until next day, and, as the "Resolute" was in the course of the night worked into the bay, and secured, we "piped down" for awhile.

_Wednesday, 28th August._--I was awoke by a hearty shake, and Captain Penny's warm "Good-morning;" he had come out to me towing the "Mary," a launch belonging to Sir John Ross, in order that I might lighten the "Pioneer," and offered me the "Sophia" brig, to receive a portion of my stores, if I would only say it was necessary.

"A friend in need is a friend indeed," and such Captain Penny proved himself; for my position was far from a pleasant one,--on a hard spit of limestone, in which no anchor could find holding ground, and, at low water, five feet less than the draught of the "Pioneer," exposed to all the set of the ice of the Wellington Channel and Barrow's Strait, with about another week of the "open season" left.

[Headnote: _FRANKLIN'S WINTER QUARTERS_]

All arrangements having been made to try and float the steamer at high water, I had time to ask Captain Penny his news; the best part of which was, that as yet nothing had been found in our neighbourhood to lead to the inference that any party in distress had retreated from the "Erebus" and "Terror." He considered the harbour chosen by Franklin for his winter quarters was an excellent one.

Captain Penny gave no very cheering account of the prospect of a much farther advance for ourselves: Wellington Channel was blocked up with a very heavy floe, and Barrow's Strait to the westward was choked with packed ice; the "Assistance" and "Intrepid" were to be seen off Barlow Inlet, but their position was far from a secure one; and, lastly, Penny told me he intended, after the result of a fresh search for a record on Beechey Island was known, to communicate with the "Assistance," in order that Captain Ommanney might be fully informed of all that had been discovered, and that we might learn whether any thing had been found at Cape Hotham.

On the 29th of August, the "Pioneer," much to my joy, was again afloat, and fast to the ice in company with the other vessels; and, although my officers and crew were well fagged out with forty-eight hours' hard labour, parties of them, myself amongst the number, were to be seen trudging across the ice of Union Bay towards Franklin's winter quarters.

It needed not a dark wintry sky nor a gloomy day to throw a sombre shade around my feelings as I landed on Beechey Island and looked down upon the bay, on whose bosom once had ridden Her Majesty's ships "Erebus" and "Terror;" there was a sickening anxiety of the heart as one involuntarily clutched at every relic they of Franklin's squadron had left behind, in the vain hope that some clue as to the route they had taken hence might be found.

From the cairn to the long and curving beach, from the frozen surface of the bay to the tops of the distant cliffs, the eye involuntarily but keenly sought for something more than had yet been found.

But, no; as sharp eyes, as anxious hearts, had already been there, and I was obliged to be content with the information, which my observation proved to be true, that the search had been close and careful, but that nothing was to be found in the shape of written record.

On the eastern slope of the ridge of Beechey Island, a remnant of a 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:--

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._]