Page:Once a Week Jul - Dec 1859.pdf/395

 384 ONCE  A WEEK. [November 5,  1859.

and fuel  for  cooking. Upon this  estimate  it  was found that,  for  a hundred  days’  journey,  they could march  ten  miles  per  diem,  and  endure a temperature with  impunity  of  fifty  or  sixty degrees below  the  freezing-point  of  water. These facts we  offer  for  the  information  of  military authorities; and they  should  remember,  that our men  dragged  their  tents  with  them,  and that the  country  traversed  was  one  vast  desert, affording only  water,  though  that  had  to  be thawed  from  snow,  out  of  the  daily  modicum  of fueL

All this  labour,  however — all  this  generous expenditure of  the  legislature  of  England  on behalf  of  her  people,  who  entered  deeply  and earnestly into  the  sad  question,  What  has  become of Franklin? — brought back  no  information  of  his fate: and still  further  to  test  the  perseverance which forms  the  best  trait  of  our  national  cha- racter, the fall  of  1854  witnessed  the  abandonment in icy  seas  of  a noble  expedition  of  four  ships. It was indeed  a catastrophe,  though  neither  an  officer nor a man  was  lost. The “I told  you  so  ” rang through the  land  of  those  who  had  long  since  got rid of  the  question  by  tumbling  ice-bergs  over  on top  of  the  Erebus  and  Terror;  and  those  who felt convinced  that  the  mystery  would  yet  be unravelled,  sighed,  and  knew  not  where  to  look for support. The skill  and  hardihood  of  the officers — the devotion  and  zeal  of  our  sailors,  and the accomplishment  of  the  north-west  passage  by Captain  Sir  Robert  M'Clure — were  accepted  by the  public  as  some  consolation  for  the  wounded maritime pride  of  Britain  in  the  inconclusive  allied war with  Russia,  though  it  was  decided  that  no further  search  should  be  made  on  the  part  of  the Government.

Hardly had  men  declared  the  solution  of  the fate of  the  lost  expedition  a hopeless  task,  when in October,  1854,  from  the  shores  of  Prince Regent’s Inlet,  appeared  a traveller,  Dr.  Rae, bringing the  conclusive  information,  which  we  men- tioned in the  end  of  our  last  number,  of  the starvation of  a forlorn  hope  of  forty  men  and officers from  the  Erebus  and  Terror,  at  the  mouth of the  Great  Fish  River. The Esquimaux  from whom he  obtained  his  intelligence,  told  him  that the two  ships  had  been  beset,  or  wrecked,  off  the coast of  King  William’s  Land.

The lost  expedition  was  thus  reported  to  be  in the  centre  of  the  square  of  unsearched  ground,  be- fore alluded to. It would  have  been  far  more easily accessible  to  our  various  expeditions,  whe- ther by way  of  Barrow,  or  Behring’s  Strait,  than many of  the  more  remote  regions  explored  by them; but,  by  a strange  fatality,  all  our  travellers turned back  short  of  the  goal,  because  they  found no cairn,  no  trace,  no  record  to  induce  them  to push  on  towards  it. However, that  there  the lost ships  were,  no  one  who  knew  anything  of the  matter  could  then  doubt; and  of  course  the natural conclusion  under  such  circumstances  was, that some  one  of  the  Arctic  ships  in  our  dockyards would have  been  immediately  sent  to  close  the search in  a satisfactory  manner,  even  though  all hope of  saving  life  might  be  at  an  end. The Admiralty and  Government  thought  otherwise; all publio  endeavours  ceased; and,  as  is  too  often the case  in  Britain,  private  enterprise  was  left  to crown  the  column  which  the  devotion  of  a public profession had  served  to  erect. At this  juncture, the widow  of  Franklin  stepped  forth  to  carry  out what the  admirals  in  Whitehall  and  statesmen  in Downing  Street  declared  to  be  an  impossibility. This energetic,  self-reliant  woman,  seconded  by  a few  staunch  friends,  pre-eminent  amongst  whom stood Sir  Roderick  Murchison,  proceeded  for  the third time  to  try  to  carry  out  by  private  means what ignorance,  rather  than  ill-will,  prevented  the Admiralty from  executing,  for,  after  the  death  of Barrow,  and  Beaufort,  and  the  retirement  of  Ad- miral Hamilton, the  only  person  left  at  the  Board who understood  the  question  was  Admiral  Sir Alexander Milne,  and  he  stood  alone  in  voting  for a final Government  expedition. Lady Franklin’s plan was  to  send  a single  vessel  down  from  Prince Regent’s Inlet,  or  Cape  Walker,  towards  King  Wil- liam’s Land. Twice already  had  she  been  foiled  in this  identical  scheme; though  on  the  last  occasion the discovery  of  Bellot’s  Strait,  leading  direct  to King  William’s  Land,  paved  the  way  for  her  final effort.

An appeal  to  the  public  for  pecuniary  aid  met with but  partial  success,  and  Lady  Franklin  had to sacrifice  all  her  available  property  and  live humbly in  lodgings  to  enable  her  to  meet  the  neces- sary expenses attendant  on  the  purchase  of  a fine screw schooner  yacht,  the  Fox,  and  her  equipment for arctic  service. Many able  officers  of  the  naval and mercantile  marine  came  generously  forward and volunteered  their  gratuitous  services. Amongst the first  was  Captain  George  H.  Richards; but hardly had  his  offer  been  accepted,  when  the Admiralty appointed  him  to  the  Plumper  for  a survey  of  Vancouver’s  Land. His place  was almost immediately  filled  by  Captain  Leopold M‘Clintock, whose  high  reputation  during  years  of continuous  service  in  those  frozen  seas  rendered his acquisition  an  omen  of  perfect  success.

Various circumstances  combined  to  retard  the departure of  the  gallant  little  Fox,  and  it  was  not until July,  1857,  that  she  and  her  noble  com- pany put forth  from  Aberdeen. Round Captain M‘Clintock stood  twenty-five  gallant  men,  including three officers  and  an  interpreter. Allen Young,  a generous  captain  of  whom  the  merchant  service have good  reason  to  be  proud,  went  as  sailing- master, and  not  only  gave  his  services  gratuitously, but threw  500Z. into the  general  fund  for  expenses. Lieutenant Hobson,  of  the  Navy,  served  as  chief officer, and  Dr.  Walker  of  Belfast,  a young  and rising medical  man,  went  also  to  seek  honour where so  many  of  his  gallant  countrymen  had already won  it. Petersen, the  Dane,  who  had spent half  his  life  within  the  arctic  zone,  quitted Copenhagen at  an  hour’s  notice  to  aid  Captain M ‘Clintock as  Esquimaux  interpreter;  and amongst the  men  were  many  gallant  fellows  who had for  years  laboured  under  Her  Majesty’s pendant in  the  frozen  north.

The Fox  before  long  reached  the  edge  of  that vast belt  of  broken-up  ice  which  all  the  summer stretches across  the  upper  portion  of  Baffin’s  Bay, and is  known  under  the  general  term  of  middle-ice. M ‘Clintock was  late,  the  season  unfavourable,  his vessel a small  one,  yet  he  fought  a gallant  fight  to