CHAPTER XXIII.

THE FRANKLIN SEARCH.

The Franklin Expedition—The First Relics—Dr. Rae’s Discoveries—The Government tired of the Search—Noble Lady Franklin—The Voyage of the _Fox_—Beset in the Ice for Eight Months—Enormous Icebergs—Seal and Bear Hunts—Unearthly Noises under the Floes—Guy Fawkes in the Arctic—The Fiftieth Seal Shot—A Funeral—A Merry Christmas—New Year Celebration—Winter Gales—Their Miraculous Escape—Experience of a Whaler—Breakfast and Ship lost together.

In October, 1854, the startling news came from Dr. Rae that he had at length found some definite traces of the lost expedition. For several years he had been engaged in the search—principally at the expense of the Hudson’s Bay Company—during which time he had descended the Mackenzie and Coppermine Rivers, and explored the shores and islands of the Polar Ocean without success. During his last journey, however, in 1853-4, he had obtained positive evidence from the Esquimaux regarding the fate of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_ and their crews. Six years before, in the spring-time, some forty white men had been seen painfully straggling over the ice, dragging with them a boat and sledges. They had indicated by signs that their vessels had been crushed in the ice, and that they were now trying to reach a habitable part of the country where they might find game. They were much emaciated from the effects of starvation, exposure, and unwonted exertion. Later in the same year the corpses of some thirty persons and some graves were discovered by the Esquimaux on the mainland, and five other bodies were subsequently found on an island close to it, and about a day’s journey north-west of Back’s Great Fish River. Several of them had died in their tents, and one, believed to have been an officer, was described as lying on his double-barrelled gun, with his telescope yet strapped to his shoulders. Dr. Rae obtained a number of relics from the Esquimaux, including pieces of plate and other articles known to have belonged to the officers. The Government was satisfied that these facts indicated the entire loss of the party, and the long outstanding reward of £10,000 offered to any one who should bring intelligence of their fate was paid to Dr. Rae and his party. Next season, Mr. John Anderson, a chief factor of the Hudson’s Bay Company, while making a canoe voyage down Great Fish River to Montreal Island and Point Ogle, obtained some confirmatory evidence and a few more relics from the natives.

The Government had now become tired of the search, and perhaps for good reason, for its own officers had not been, as we have seen, successful in obtaining the desired information, while there had been an immense expenditure of the public money in fruitless expeditions. It cannot, however, be wondered at that Lady Franklin had not abandoned all hope, and that she, in common with many others, was not satisfied with the meagre evidence of their fate so far obtained. That it pointed to the loss of the larger part of the officers and men could not be doubted, but there was yet the possibility of some of them surviving at some distant point it might be among the Esquimaux. Backed by distinguished naval officers and men of science and influence, she appealed to the Government to make one more last effort. It was in vain, and there was nothing for it but a private expedition. Lady Franklin purchased the steam-yacht _Fox_, and aided, in a limited degree only, by private subscriptions and some Government aid, fitted her out most completely. She was soon gratified by obtaining the willing and gratuitous services of several distinguished officers. Captain (now Sir) F. L. M’Clintock, who had braved the dangers of the Arctic with (James) Ross, Austin, and Kellett; Lieutenant W. R. Hobson, an officer of much experience; Captain Allen Young, of the merchant marine, who not merely threw his services into the cause, but subscribed £500 in furtherance of it; and Dr. David Walker, an accomplished surgeon and scientific man—were all volunteers whose services were secured. “Many worthy old shipmates,” says M’Clintock, “my companions in the previous Arctic voyages, most readily volunteered their services, and were as gratefully accepted, for it was my anxious wish to gather around me well-tried men, who were aware of the duties expected of them and accustomed to naval discipline. Hence, out of the twenty-five souls composing our small company, seventeen had previously served in the Arctic search.” Just before starting, Carl Petersen, now so well known to Arctic readers on account of his subsequent connection with Dr. Kane’s expedition, joined the vessel as interpreter. The vessel was amply provisioned for twenty-eight months, and the supplies included preserved vegetables, lemon-juice, and pickles, for daily consumption. The Admiralty caused 6,682 lbs. of pemmican(37) to be prepared for the expedition, and the Board of Ordnance furnished the arms, powder and shot, rockets, and powder for ice blasting. M’Clintock, being anxious to retain for his vessel the privileges she formerly enjoyed as a yacht, was enrolled as a member of several of the leading clubs.

The _Fox_ left England on the last day of June, 1857, and after visiting some of the Greenland settlements, turned seawards. Seventy miles to the west of Upernavik the edge of the “middle ice” was reached, and the vessel caught in its margin of loose ice. They soon steamed out of what might have been to a sailing vessel a serious predicament, and closely examined the field for forty miles without finding an opening. M’Clintock, being satisfied that he could not force a passage through it across Baffin’s Bay, steered to the northward, and on August 12th was in Melville Bay, where the vessel was made fast to an iceberg which was _grounded_ in fifty-eight fathoms (348 feet) of water. Here they were again beset by the ice. Alas! this was but the commencement of their troubles. For 242 days—or, in other words, for eight months after this—the little _Fox_ was helplessly and, as it often appeared, hopelessly, drifting with the ice packed and piled around her, with but a feeble chance of escape, and with a very strong probability of being crushed to nothing without a moment’s warning. Some extracts from M’Clintock’s journal will be found interesting at this juncture.

“20th. No favourable ice-drift; this detention has become most painful. The _Enterprise_ reached the open water upon this day in 1848, within fifty miles of our present position. Unfortunately, our prospects are not so cheering. There is no relative motion in the floes of ice, except a gradual closing together, the small spaces and streaks of water being still further diminished. The temperature has fallen, and is usually below the freezing point. I feel most keenly the difficulty of my position. We cannot afford to lose many more days.

“The men enjoy a game of rounders on the ice each evening. Petersen and Christian are constantly on the look-out for seals, as well as Hobson and Young occasionally. If in good condition and killed instantaneously the seals float. Several have already been shot. The liver fried with bacon is excellent.

“Birds have become scarce. The few we see are returning southward. How anxiously I watch the ice, weather, barometer, and thermometer! Wind from any other quarter than south-east would oblige the floe-pieces to re-arrange themselves, in doing which they would become loose, and then would be our opportunity to proceed.

“24th. Fine weather, with very light northerly winds. We have drifted seven miles to the west in the last two days. The ice is now a close pack, so close that one may walk for many miles over it in any direction by merely turning a little to the right or left to avoid the small water spaces. My frequent visits to the crow’s-nest are not inspiriting. How absolutely distressing this imprisonment is to me no one without similar experience can form any idea. As yet the crew have but little suspicion how blighted our prospects are.

“The dreaded reality of wintering in the pack is gradually forcing itself upon my mind; but I must not write on this subject: it is bad enough to brood over it unceasingly. We can see the land all round Melville Bay, from Cape Walker nearly to Cape York. Petersen is indefatigable at seal shooting; he is so anxious to secure them for our dogs. He says they must be hit in the head; ‘if you hit him in the beef that is not good,’ meaning that a flesh wound does not prevent their escaping under the ice. Petersen and Christian practise an Esquimaux mode of attracting the seals. They scrape the ice, thus making a noise like that produced by a seal in making a hole with its flippers, and then place one end of a pole in the water and put their mouths close to the other end, making noises in imitation of the snorts and grunts of their intended victims. Whether the device is successful or not I do not know, but it looks laughable enough.

“Christian came back a few days ago, like a true seal hunter, carrying his kaiyack on his head, and dragging a seal behind him. Only two years ago Petersen returned across this bay with Dr. Kane’s retreating party. He shot a seal, which they devoured, and which, under Providence, saved their lives. Petersen is a good ice pilot, knows all these coasts as well as, or better than, any man living, and, from long experience and habits of observation, is almost unerring in his prognostications of the weather. Besides his great value to us as interpreter, few men are better adapted for Arctic work—an ardent sportsman, an agreeable companion, never at a loss for occupation or amusement, and always contented and sanguine. But we have, happily, many such dispositions in the _Fox_.

“30th. The whole distance across Melville Bay is 170 miles; of this we have performed about 120, forty of which we have drifted in the last fourteen days.

“Yesterday we set to work as usual to warp the ship along, and moved her ten feet. An insignificant hummock then blocked up the narrow passage. As we could not push it before us, a two-pound blasting charge was exploded, and the surface ice was shattered; but such an immense quantity of broken ice came up from beneath that the difficulty was greatly increased instead of being removed. This is one of the many instances in which our small vessel labours under very great disadvantages in ice navigation; we have neither sufficient manual power, steam power, nor impetus to force the floes asunder. I am convinced that a steamer of moderate size and power, with a crew of forty or fifty men, would have got through a hundred miles of such ice in less time than we have been beset.”

And so it went on from day to day, M’Clintock knowing that it was fast becoming hopeless to expect a release, but, nevertheless, keeping his men well employed in preparations for wintering and sledge-travelling. Every now and then a “lane” of water opening in the ice would mock their hopes. On one occasion such an opening appeared within 170 yards of the vessel, and by the aid of steam and blasting powder they advanced 100 yards towards it, when the floes again closed up tightly, and they had their trouble for their pains. Numerous large icebergs were around them. Allen Young examined one, which was 250 feet high, and aground in 83 fathoms (498 feet) of water. In other words, the enormous mass was nearly 750 feet from top to bottom. The reader can judge of such dimensions by comparison: St. Paul’s is only 370 feet in height. The looser ice drifting past this berg was crushed, and piled up against its sides to a height of fifty feet.

Meantime they were very successful in the hunt. Seals were caught in numbers, and their twenty-nine dogs kept in good condition on the meat. The dogs were at this period kept on the ice outside the ship, and occasionally one would start out on a solitary expedition, remaining away all night, but invariably returning for meal-time. On the evening of November 2nd there was a sudden call “to arms,” and every one, whether “sleeping, prosing, or schooling”—for Dr. Walker held a school on board—flew to the ice, where a large he-bear was seen struggling with the dogs. He had approached within twenty-five yards of the ship before the quartermaster’s eye detected his indistinct outline against the snow. In crossing some very thin ice he broke through into the water, where he was surrounded by yelping dogs. Hobson, Young, and Petersen, had each lodged a bullet in him, but these only seemed to increase his rage. At length he got out of the water, and would doubtless have demolished some of the dogs, when M’Clintock, with a well-directed shot, put a bullet through his brain. The bear was a large one, and its carcase fed the dogs for nearly a month. M’Clintock says:—“For the few moments of its duration the chase and death was exciting. And how strange and novel the scene! A misty moon affording but scanty light, dark figures gliding singly about, not daring to approach each other, for the ice trembled under their feet, the enraged bear, the wolfish, howling dogs, and the bright flashes of the deadly rifles.”

About this period, and while the weather was reasonably fair, unearthly noises were heard under the ice, and alarming disruptions occurred close to the ship. Of one of the former occasions M’Clintock writes:—“A renewal of ice-crushing within a few hundred yards of us; I can hear it in my bed. The ordinary sound resembles the roar of distant surf breaking heavily and continuously; but when heavy masses come in collision with much impetus it fully realises the justness of Dr. Kane’s descriptive epithet, ‘ice artillery.’ Fortunately for us, our poor little _Fox_ is well within the margin of a stout old floe; we are therefore undisturbed spectators of ice-conflicts which would be irresistible to anything of human construction. Immediately about the ship all is still, and, as far as appearances go, she is precisely as she would be in a secure harbour, housed all over, banked up with snow to the gunwales. In fact, her winter plumage is so complete that the masts alone are visible.”

Whenever it was possible to employ or amuse the men among these dreary scenes M’Clintock was most desirous that it should be done. Dr. Walker’s school was a genuine success, and the rather old school-boys most diligent in their studies, which were at first confined to the three R’s—reading, ’riting, and ’rithmetic. Later, however, lectures and readings were organised, and subjects adapted to interest the crew, such as the trade winds, the atmosphere, the uses of the thermometer, barometer, and so forth, were chosen. Healthful exercise was afforded to the men in banking up the ship with snow. On November 5th, says M’Clintock, “in order to vary our monotonous routine, we determined to celebrate the day.” Extra grog was issued, and one of Lady Franklin’s thoughtful presents, in the shape of preserved plum-pudding, helped to mark the occasion. In the evening a procession was organised, and the crew sallied forth, with drum, gong, and discord, to burn a huge effigy of Guy Fawkes upon the ice. “Their blackened faces, extravagant costumes, glaring torches, and savage yells, frightened away all the dogs; nor was it till after the fireworks were let off and the traitor consumed that they crept back again. It was school-night, but the men were up for fun, so gave the Doctor a holiday.”

On November 15th Captain Young shot the fiftieth seal, an event which was celebrated by the drinking of _the_ bottle of champagne which had been reserved for the occasion of reaching the North Water—an unhappy failure, the more keenly felt from being so very unexpected. On November 16th “Petersen saw and fired a shot into a narwhal which brought the blubber out. When most Arctic creatures are wounded in the water, blubber more frequently appears than blood, particularly if the wound is superficial; it spreads over the surface of the water like oil. Bills of fare vary much in Greenland. I have inquired of Petersen, and he tells me that the Greenland Esquimaux (there are many Greenlanders of Danish origin) are not agreed as to which of their animals affords the most delicious food; some of them prefer reindeer venison, others think more favourably of young dog, the flesh of which, he asserts, is ‘just like the beef of sheep.’ He says a Danish captain, who had acquired the taste, provided some for his guests, and they praised his _mutton_! After dinner he sent for the skin of the animal, which was no other than a large red dog! This occurred in Greenland, where his Danish guests had resided for many years, far removed from European _mutton_. Baked puppy is a real delicacy all over Polynesia; at the Sandwich Islands I was once invited to a feast, and had to feign disappointment as well as I could when told that puppy was so extremely scarce it could not be procured in time, and therefore sucking-pig was substituted!”

On December 2nd an event occurred which cast a gloom over the little party. One of the engineers, Mr. Scott, had fallen down a hatchway, and died shortly afterwards from the effect of internal injuries then received. “A funeral at sea,” says M’Clintock, “is always peculiarly impressive; but this evening, at seven o’clock, as we gathered around the sad remains of poor Scott, reposing under a Union Jack, and read the Burial Service by the light of lanterns, the effect could not fail to awaken very serious emotions.

“The greater part of the Church Service was read on board, under shelter of the housing; the body was then placed upon a sledge, and drawn by the messmates of the deceased to a short distance from the ship, where a hole through the ice had been cut; it was then ‘committed to the deep,’ and the service completed. What a scene it was! I shall never forget it. The lonely _Fox_, almost buried in snow, completely isolated from the habitable world, her colours half-mast high, and bell mournfully tolling; our little procession slowly marching over the rough surface of the frozen sea, guided by lanterns and direction-posts, amid the dark and dreary depth of Arctic winter; the death-like stillness, the intense cold, and threatening aspect of a murky overcast sky; and all this heightened by one of those strange lunar phenomena which are but seldom seen even here—a complete halo encircling the moon, through which passed a horizontal band of pale light that encompassed the heavens; above the moon appeared the segments of two other halos, and there were also mock moons, to the number of six. The misty atmosphere lent a very ghastly hue to this singular display, which lasted for rather more than an hour.

“27th. Our Christmas was a very cheerful, merry one. The men were supplied with several additional articles, such as hams, plum-puddings, preserved gooseberries and apples, nuts, sweetmeats, and Burton ale. After Divine Service they decorated the lower deck with flags, and made an immense display of food. The officers came down with me to see their preparations. We were really astonished! Their mess-tables were laid out like the counters in a confectioner’s shop, with apple and gooseberry tarts, plum and sponge cakes in pyramids, besides various other unknown puffs, cakes, and loaves of all sizes and shapes. We bake all our own bread, and excellent it is. In the background were nicely-browned hams, meat-pies, cheeses, and other substantial articles. Rum-and-water in wine-glasses and plum cake were handed to us. We wished them a happy Christmas, and complimented them on their taste and spirit in getting up such a display. Our silken sledge-banners had been borrowed for the occasion, and were regarded with deference and peculiar pride.

“In the evening the officers were enticed down amongst the men again, and at a late hour I was requested, as a great favour, to come down and see how much they were enjoying themselves. I found them in the highest good-humour with themselves and all the world. They were perfectly sober, and singing songs, each in his turn. I expressed great satisfaction at having seen them enjoying themselves so much and so rationally; I could therefore the better describe it to Lady Franklin, who was deeply interested in everything relating to them. I drank their healths, and hoped our position next year would be more suitable for our purpose. We all joined in drinking the healths of Lady Franklin and Miss Cracroft, and amid the acclamations which followed I returned to my cabin, immensely gratified by such an exhibition of genuine good-feeling, such veneration for Lady Franklin, and such loyalty to the cause of the expedition. It was very pleasant also that they had taken the most cheering view of our future prospects. I verily believe I was the happiest individual on board that happy evening.” New Year’s Day was a second edition of Christmas. At midnight on December 31st the arrival of 1858 was announced by the band, consisting of two flutes and an accordion, striking up at the cabin door. It was accompanied by _other_ music from frying-pans, gridirons, kettles, pots, and pans, in the hands of the crew, who were determined to have as much fun as possible under the circumstances.

The monotonous winter passed on, and still the _Fox_ remained enclosed in the pack, although occasional disruptions of the ice occurred, some of them of an alarming nature. The field one day cracked within ten yards of the ship, and on another occasion M’Clintock, returning from a visit to an iceberg, was cut off close to the vessel by the sudden opening of a long streak of water, and had to run a considerable distance before he found a crossing place, where the jagged edges of the floe met. The little yacht bore out bravely, although one day hurled up at bows and the next at stern. Strong gales now and again blew furiously, and drifting, whirling snow prevented them from seeing or hearing a few yards off. On March 25th, with a strong north-west wind blowing, the ship rocked in the ice and rubbed against it, straining and groaning in a manner which caused some alarm. The boats, provisions, sledges, knapsacks, and other equipments, were kept ready for a hasty departure. As long as their friendly barrier lasted there was little cause for fear; but who could tell the moment when it might be demolished, and the ship crack like a nutshell among the grinding, crashing ice masses? On the 27th and 28th strong gales broke up the ice to some extent, and in two days the _Fox_ drifted thirty-nine miles. But the story would be as monotonous in the telling as was their life in reality were we to detail it day by day. Suffice it to say, on April 24th, after they had drifted 1,385 miles, the vessel, although not by any means clear of the ice, which was dashed against it by the swell, and which often choked their screw and brought the engines to a dead stop, was out of imminent danger. Their escape had been little short of miraculous, and a sailing vessel, however strong, would probably never have so successfully braved the dangers of the pack as did the little steam-yacht _Fox_. Its commander writes feelingly on the 26th:—“At sea! How am I to describe the events of the last two days? It has pleased God to accord to us a deliverance in which His merciful protection contrasts—how strongly!—with our own utter helplessness; as if the successive mercies vouchsafed to us during our long winter and mysterious ice-drift had been concentrated and repeated in a single act. Thus forcibly does His great goodness come home to the mind!” Their troubles, anxieties, and doubts, were over, and two days later they were safely anchored off Holsteinborg, enjoying the hospitalities of the Danes.

M’Clintock refers, _àpropos_ of his own experience, to a whaler, whose vessel, nipped in the ice, was lost in little less time than it takes to tell the story. “It was a beautiful morning; they had almost reached the North Water, and were anticipating a very successful voyage; the steward had just reported breakfast ready, when Captain Deuchars, seeing the floes closing together ahead of the ship, remained on deck to see her pass safely between them. But they closed too quickly; the vessel was _almost_ through when the points of ice caught her sides, abreast of the mizen-mast, and, passing through, held the wreck up for a few minutes, barely long enough for the crew to escape and save their boats! Poor Deuchars thus suddenly lost his breakfast and his ship; within _ten minutes_ her royal yards disappeared beneath the surface.” The vessel was a strong one, supposed to be exactly adapted for whaling, but the powerful nip she received was too much for her. The _Fox_, in spite of her long imprisonment, was far more fortunate.