Читать книгу The Great White North - Helen S. Wright - Страница 10

Table of Contents

Sir John Franklin.—Early life.—First land expedition of 1819-1821.—Journey from York Factory to Cumberland House.—Reach Fort Providence.—Winter at Fort Enterprise.—Explorations.—5550 miles.—Hardship.—Starvation.—Return.—Second land journey.—1825.—Winter quarters at Great Bear Lake.—Descent of the Mackenzie River to the Polar Sea.—1200 miles of coast added to map.—The last journey of Sir John Franklin, 1845.—The Erebus and Terror.—Last seen in Melville Bay.

No name holds more romantic association with Arctic history than that of Sir John Franklin. What a career, what love of adventure, what hardships endured with heroic fortitude, what leadership that could inspire others to passionate loyalty, and superhuman endurance under unspeakable trials, and what a fate!

Let us review briefly a life that stands in the foremost rank of naval history, not so much by great achievement, as by that particular charm of character, indefinable and subtle, that is based on those great qualities of tolerance, justice, loyalty, simplicity, and warm affections.

John Franklin, the youngest son of twelve children, was born in the small market town of Spilsby, Lincolnshire, April 16, 1786. He was early destined for the church and educated at St. Ives, and later at Louth Grammar School. A holiday jaunt with a young companion, twelve miles to the shores of the North Sea, with its overwhelming grandeur, changed his career and decided him for the life of a sailor.

The shrewd old father, with that acute knowledge of the short-lived enthusiasms of youth, put him to test, and at fourteen years of age young John served on a merchantman bound for Lisbon. Undaunted by the hard berth of a sailor lad, we find him in 1801 on the quarter-deck of the Polephemus, under Captain Lanford, leading in line at the battle of Copenhagen, Lord Nelson’s hardest fought battle.

His iron will, ever more firm in its determination for a life of adventure, secured him later a berth in the discovery ship Investigator, exploring the coast of Australia, where Franklin acquired valuable astronomical and surveying skill under his able relative, Captain Flinders.

Transferred to the Porpoise, which, in company with the Cato, was wrecked on a coral reef off the coast of Australia, August 18, 1803, the lad, with one hundred and fifty others, spent fifty days on a strip of sand only four feet above water. Captain Flinders, after making his way 250 leagues to Port Jackson in an open boat, rescued his companions. Franklin finally reached Canton, where he secured passage to England in the Earl Camden, East-Indiaman, under Sir Nathaniel Dance, commodore of the China fleet.

An engagement with the French squadron occurred in February, 1804, at which young Franklin rendered valuable service as signal midshipman. On his return to England he was assigned to the Bellerophon. At the battle of Trafalgar, he gallantly stood on the poop, with the dead and dying falling beside him, attending to the signals, with a coolness and accuracy that won him the unstinted admiration of his comrades.

For the next two years he served under Admirals Cornwallis, St. Vincent, and Stratham; then for six years in the Bedford.

In the disastrous attack upon New Orleans, Franklin commanded the boats in a fight with the enemy’s gunboats; he captured one of them and suffered a slight wound in the shoulder in a hand-to-hand encounter.

John Franklin

He was promoted to first lieutenant for gallant service and assigned to the Forth, which, after the abdication of Napoleon and the restoration of the Bourbons, conveyed the Duchess d’Angouleme back to France.

SIR JOHN FRANKLIN

It is not surprising that after such a varied and distinguished career, Franklin should be one of the first to enter with whole-souled enthusiasm into the renewed interest shown by England in Arctic discovery and exploration.

Of the Buchan expedition in which Franklin was second in command, we already know the history. The succeeding expeditions, though spoken of as failures in their main object, won for him a renown quite unique in Arctic honours, and the last, so tragically fatal in its results, did more, through the numberless searching parties sent out to discover news of the missing ships, to extend the world’s scientific knowledge and geographical accuracy of Arctic America, than could possibly have been accomplished had the expedition been a success.

Before taking up in detail the journeys of Sir John Franklin, it might be well to make note of a side-light in his remarkable character. To this man a career meant the paramount ambition of life, a passion stronger than the love of woman, of family, of home or physical comforts. After the return of the Buchan and Franklin expedition, the gentle poetess, Anne Porden, who had written “Viels, or Triumph of Constancy,” the “Cœur de Lion,” and a short poem on the Arctic expedition just returned, visited the Trent and met the gallant John Franklin in the full blush of his youthful manhood. He fell in love, and upon his return from his first land expedition, in 1823, they were married, but with the distinct understanding that sweet Anne should “never, under any circumstances, seek to turn her husband aside from the duty he owed his country and his career.” And she kept her word, but at what sacrifice!

In June of the following year a daughter was born to them, but the mother never regained her health; a few months later, putting in John Franklin’s hand a silken flag to be carried north to victory, the work of her dying fingers, she courageously bade him God-speed, and he started, amid the applause of an enthusiastic nation, upon that second journey—little guessing she, too, was about to embark upon the great unknown.

“My instructions, in substance,” writes Franklin of the first land expedition of 1819-1821, “informed me that the main object of the expedition was that of determining the latitude and longitude of the northern coast of North America, and the trending of that coast from the mouth of the Coppermine River to the eastern extremity of that continent.”

He was authorized to take counsel with the Hudson Bay officials, and plan his course accordingly. In fact, much was left to his own discretion, and before leaving England he was fortunate enough to go over the details of the proposed journey with Sir Alexander Mackenzie, the only living English explorer who had visited that coast.

Accompanied by Dr. Richardson, surgeon and naturalist (later Sir John Richardson), Admiralty Midshipman George Back (later Sir George Back), Robert Hood, and another Englishman, John Hepburn, Franklin sailed from Gravesend in the Prince of Wales, May 23, 1819.

On reaching York Factory, the principal depot of the Hudson Bay Company, he found an unfortunate state of affairs existing between them and the Northwest Company. A bitter rivalry had resulted in the detention at York Factory of certain partners of the other company, and the result of this unfortunate quarrel had serious results upon his own future.

JOURNEY TO CUMBERLAND HOUSE

He was advised to make for Cumberland House, and later through a chain of posts to the shores of Great Slave Lake. With only one steersman and a boat so small that many of the provisions were in consequence left behind, Franklin made his start up the Hayes River, September 9. Sailing was frequently varied by the arduous labour of tracking, and not unfrequently a portage was found necessary, which added to the fatigues and discouragements of the day.

At one of the outposts of the Hudson Bay Company, they were again obliged to leave some of their stores under promise that these would be forwarded in the spring, and later, at Swampy Lake, the tenants of the depot gave them a supply of mouldy pemmican, which of course had to be thrown away later. Thus from the outset the expedition laboured under the fatal handicap of insufficient stores.

At Oxford House, Holy Lake, they secured some good pemmican and also fish, and, as the season was advancing, they pushed onward. They finally reached the mouth of the Saskatchewan, and, following the river, they first arrived at Little River, then Pine Island Lake, and at last, on October 23, Cumberland House. Already ice had impeded their journey, and here they determined to winter, at the invitation of Governor Williams.

Impatient to be on his way, and desirous of securing guides, hunters, interpreters, and stores for the journey to the sea, Franklin, accompanied by Back and Hepburn, started, January 19, 1820, for Fort Chipewyan, with provisions for fifteen days. After a winter’s journey of eight hundred and fifty-seven miles, they reached their destination.

The various posts at which they stopped supplied them with only a limited amount of provisions, and the prospect of securing more was most discouraging. Sickness of the Indians in the hunting season foretold a scarcity for the following spring; moreover, the rivalry of the fur companies and the lavish expenditure of their stores in opposition tactics had resulted in greatly depleted food supply, so that provisions expressly intended for Franklin were later consumed before reaching him.

The travellers had suffered greatly from the unaccustomed use of snow-shoes, the weight of several pounds of snow clinging to the shoes having galled and lamed their feet. Yet the journey had not been considered as wearing as that from York Factory to Cumberland House.

The return of geese, ducks, and swans, together with the melting of the snow and ice, now gave indications of approaching spring. Mr. Hood writes of this time:—

“The noise made by the frogs, which this inundation produced, is almost incredible. There is strong reason to believe that they outlive the severity of winter. They have often been found frozen, and revived by warmth; nor is it possible that the multitude which incessantly filled our ears with their discordant notes could have been matured in two or three days.”

Speaking of the resuscitation of fish, Franklin writes:—

“If in this completely frozen state, they were thawed before the fire, they recovered their animation. This was particularly the case with the carp, and we had occasion to observe it repeatedly, as Dr. Richardson occupied himself in examining the structure of the different species of fish, and was always in the winter under the necessity of thawing them before he could cut them. We have seen a carp recover so far as to leap about with much vigor after it had been frozen thirty-six hours.”

Richardson and Hood now joined Franklin, and the party increased by sixteen Canadian voyageurs, a Chipewyan woman, and two interpreters, made their way northward. It was now the middle of July, and their whole stock of provisions consisted of hardly more than one day’s supply. Fortunately they soon added a buffalo, and at Moose Deer Island they got some supplies from the Hudson Bay and Northwest Company officers.

About the last of July they reached Fort Providence. From the Indian chief Akaitcho they secured guides, the party having been increased to twenty-nine, exclusive of three children. A journey of five hundred and fifty-two miles was accomplished, with no little hardship. Lack of food and other privation caused the Canadian voyageurs to break out in open mutiny. At Fort Enterprise winter quarters were established.

WINTER AT FORT ENTERPRISE

Early in October, Back and a party returned to Fort Providence to arrange for the transportation of stores expected from Cumberland House. The stores were anxiously awaited, and it was hoped they would arrive by New Year’s Day, 1821. In the meantime the party were subsisting for the most part on reindeer meat, fish twice a week, and a little flour. The middle of January seven of Back’s party returned, bringing with them as many stores as they could haul.

A little later Back returned, having performed on foot the remarkable journey of more than eleven hundred miles on snow-shoes, sleeping in the open, with only the protection of a blanket and a deerskin, the thermometer frequently at 40° and once at 57° below zero,—and passing several days without food.

The failure of the great fur companies to keep their contracts had resulted in almost no provisions being secured. At Fort Enterprise it was now found necessary to curtail rations to the most meagre amount, and many of the Indian families camped about the house were obliged to satisfy the cravings of hunger with bones, deer’s feet, and bits of other offal.

“When,” says Franklin, “we beheld them gnawing the pieces of hide, and pounding the bones for the purpose of extracting some nourishment from them by boiling, we regretted our inability to relieve them, but little thought that we ourselves should be afterwards driven to the necessity of eagerly collecting these same bones, a second time, from the dung-hill.”

In July, 1821, the expedition having dragged canoes and baggage with fifteen days’ provisions to the bank of the Coppermine, embarked upon the main object of the enterprise. By the 25th they had doubled Cape Barrow, and its eastern side they named Inman Harbor. The dangers and discouragements that beset Arctic travellers soon fell to their lot. Their stock of food, replenished with a few deer, soon became exhausted, and the ration issued to each man was a meagre handful of pemmican and a small portion of soup.

By the 5th of August, they had reached the Back River and then explored Melville Sound and Bathurst Inlet. Having reached Point Turnagain, and meeting with no Eskimos who could replenish their provisions, Franklin was obliged to turn back, having sailed nearly six hundred geographical miles in tracing the irregular shore of Coronation Gulf from the Coppermine River.

STARVATION

Reduced to the last extremity for want of food, the last bit of pemmican and arrowroot having formed a scanty supper, and without means of making a fire, the forlorn party spent the fifth day of September in bed while a snowstorm raged above them and drifted into their tent, covering their thin blankets several inches. Of this day writes Franklin:—

“Our suffering from cold, in a comfortless canvas tent in such weather with the temperature at 20°, and without fire, will easily be imagined; it was, however, less than that which we felt from hunger.”

For two days they lived on a lichen known as tripe de roche, and on the 10th “they got a good meal by killing a musk-ox. To skin and cut up the animal was the work of a few minutes. The contents of its stomach were devoured upon the spot; raw intestines, which were next attacked, were pronounced by the most delicate amongst us to be excellent.”

The effects of suffering and famine began to show themselves in the improvidence and indifference of the men. Three fishing-nets were left behind, and one of the canoes broken and abandoned. Mosses, an occasional partridge, tripe de roche, bits of singed hide, and such marrow as could be extracted from finds of bones of animals formed their only diet.

Though weak and lame, Back pushed forward in search of relief. One by one the starving men fell by the wayside. Hood, suffering from the effects of tripe de roche, which never agreed with him, became too exhausted to proceed, and Dr. Richardson volunteered to remain with him. As one by one the various members dropped down with fatigue, only five besides Franklin were left in the advance party. These continued their weary pilgrimage, cheered with the hope that at Fort Enterprise would be found shelter and the much-needed supplies which had been promised them. Alas! their grief and disappointment may be imagined upon entering this wretched depot to find it desolate and without a vestige of provisions.

“It would be impossible,” says Franklin, “to describe our sensations after entering this miserable abode, and discovering how we had been neglected; the whole party shed tears, not so much for our own fate as for that of our friends in the rear whose lives depended entirely on our sending immediate relief from this place.”

To their surprise they found a note from Back stating that he had reached the shelter two days before by another route and had immediately pressed on in hope of finding the Indians, and if not, he would direct his steps to Fort Providence, though he doubted if he and his party could reach there in their present unfortunate condition.

Franklin and his men gathered together what could be used as food and found several deerskins that had been thrown away the previous year and a few bones gathered from the refuse heap. These, with tripe de roche, they made into a soup and endeavoured to support life on the putrid mass. Later on one more member of the party came in, and a day or two after a man named Balanger of Back’s party reached camp in all but a dying condition. He had fallen into a rapid, had come near drowning, and was then speechless from exhaustion and exposure. When warmed, dry clothing put on, and given a little soup, he was sufficiently restored to answer questions.

Back had not found the Indians and was making for Fort Providence. Thither Franklin determined to follow him with two of his men, the others volunteering to remain until succour should be sent to them. Owing to an unfortunate accident to his snow-shoes, Franklin was obliged to return to camp the next day, sending on his companions alone.

The poor wretches that had been left at Fort Enterprise were in such a weakened state that it was with difficulty that Franklin could rouse them to any exertion.

“We saw,” writes Franklin, “a herd of reindeer sporting on the river, about half a mile from the house; they remained there a long time, but none of the party felt themselves strong enough to go after them, nor was there one of us who could have fired a gun without resting it.”

Eighteen long days passed slowly by, during which they endured frightful privations, when Dr. Richardson and Hepburn reached them, greatly enfeebled and emaciated. “The doctor particularly remarked the sepulchral tones of our voices, which he requested of us to make more cheerful, if possible, unconscious that his own partook of the same key.” Hepburn divided a partridge he had shot and, says Franklin, “I and my three companions ravenously devoured our shares, as it was the first morsel of flesh any of us had tasted for thirty-one days, unless, indeed, the small, gristly particles which we found occasionally adhering to the pounded bones may be called flesh.”

Dr. Richardson then told of the tragic death of Hood, who had been murdered by the Iroquois, Michel, whose threatening demeanour they had noted for some days, and whom they afterwards suspected of having put an end to two other members of the party. Under the circumstances, as a matter of self-preservation, it was deemed necessary to end the Indian’s life, and this Dr. Richardson did with a pistol-shot.

The day after the arrival of Richardson and Hepburn, two of the party died. Finally, early in November, Indian messengers sent by Back brought the longed-for relief, the Indians “evincing humanity that would have done honor to the most civilized people.” When the party were sufficiently restored to health with food and kind nursing, they started for Fort Chipewyan, where they remained until June of the following year. In July they reached York Factory, whence three years before they had started out.

In this remarkable journey of over five thousand five hundred and fifty miles, human endurance and patience had been put to the uttermost test; the wonderful courage and fortitude with which these heroes braved a fate that threatened them at every step, make this one of the most remarkable feats in Arctic history.

FRANKLIN’S SECOND JOURNEY

A more cheerful picture presents itself in Franklin’s second voyage, and, though fortunately not so tragic as the first, it nevertheless demonstrates his remarkable leadership.

In conjunction with the Beechey expedition in the Blossom and Parry’s expedition with the Hecla and Fury, a third expedition was promoted and, upon request of Franklin, put under his charge. The outline of operations was for this party to descend the Mackenzie River to the sea, and there to divide the force, one section to explore the coast east to the Coppermine, while the other should take a westerly course and round Ice Cape and, if possible, Behring Strait. Profiting by past experience, the party were amply provisioned from the outset; in fact, a delay of some months was required to secure the necessary amount of pemmican.

Undaunted by the hardships endured on the previous voyage, Back and Richardson volunteered again to accompany Franklin; Mr. Kendall, a mate in the navy, and Mr. T. Drummond, a naturalist, were also of the party. Four carefully constructed boats were sent ahead in one of the Hudson Bay Company’s ships, and in July, 1825, the Franklin party reached Fort Chipewyan.

They reached Great Bear Lake without incident, and there erected winter quarters under the direction of Back and Dease, the latter being detailed by the Hudson Bay Company to assist the expedition. Although the season was well advanced, Franklin set out, with a small party, to make a six-day journey down the Mackenzie for the purpose of examining the state of the Polar Sea. They reached an island to which he gave the name of Garry Island, and ascended the summit, from which “the sea appeared in all its majesty, entirely free from ice, and without any visible obstructions to its navigation, and never was a prospect more gratifying than that which lay open to us.” Here the silken Union Jack made by the hands of Anne Porden was unfurled, the news of whose death had but lately reached her husband.

“I will not,” writes Franklin, “attempt to describe my emotions as it expanded to the breeze.”

By the 7th of September the party had returned to Fort Franklin, and the long winter was passed in comparative comfort. Every effort was made to amuse and interest the men, the entire number consisting of nearly fifty, including guides, interpreters, Canadian voyageurs, and Indians.

DESCENT OF THE MACKENZIE RIVER

The following June, 1826, preparations were made for the important work of the expedition. Descending the Mackenzie in four boats to the Polar Sea, the party here divided, Captain Franklin and Lieutenant Back with fourteen men pushing to the westward, Dr. Richardson with Mr. Kendall assisted by ten men in two boats going in an easterly direction toward the Coppermine River.

Soon after parting, Franklin’s party had an unfortunate encounter with Eskimos, who pillaged their stores and caused them considerable annoyance. Making his way westward, he encountered dirty weather and penetrating fogs, which kept the poor shivering men perpetually enveloped in moisture. However, he reached latitude 70° 24´ N., longitude 149° 37´ W., which point of land he named after Lieutenant Back. He had surveyed three hundred and seventy-four miles of coast.

It was now deemed advisable to return, and by September 31 the party reached Fort Franklin, where Richardson and his party had returned some days earlier after a successful voyage of five hundred miles, or nine hundred and two by the coast-line.

The party under Richardson had been favoured with good weather, and, though detained by an occasional storm, were on the whole most fortunate. One of these shelters, Refuge Cove, Dr. Richardson describes:—

“Myriads of mosquitoes, which reposed among the grass, rose in clouds when disturbed, and gave us much annoyance. Many snow birds were hatching on the point; and we saw swans, Canada geese, eider, king, Arctic, and surf ducks; several glaucous, silvery, black-headed, and ivory gulls, together with terns and northern divers. Some laughing geese passed to the northward in the evening, which may be considered as a sure indication of land in that direction.”

During the second winter passed at Fort Franklin, the thermometer fell as low as 58° below zero. The Englishmen spent their time in making scientific observations and completing their data and records. Food and warmth, combined with good health, made it pass comparatively quickly, and in the spring the party made their way back to England.

Honours of the most distinguished character awaited Franklin upon his return. To the map of North America he had added no less than twelve hundred miles, for which the nation rendered him enthusiastic applause. In 1829 he was knighted, Oxford conferred on him the degree of D.C.L., and the Geographical Society of Paris awarded him a gold medal.

LAST JOURNEY OF SIR JOHN FRANKLIN

In his second marriage Franklin was most fortunate in winning a cultured, travelled woman of wealth, Jane Griffin, whose sympathies were entirely in harmony with his own, and whose devotion to his memory kept alive for twelve years the interest of the world in ceaseless efforts to ascertain his fate. The succeeding years until the last ill-fated voyage were most happily divided between a cruise on the Mediterranean, in which Franklin commanded the Rainbow with such pleasure to the crew and officers that the ship won the cheerful sobriquet of Celestial Rainbow and the Paradise of Franklin, and the governorship of the colony of Van Diemen’s Land, or Tasmania, a post he held for seven years with admirable success. Franklin had only been a few months in England when the Admiralty, through Sir John Barrow, for many years an enthusiastic promoter of Arctic enterprise, decided upon another expedition to effect the discovery of the Northwest Passage. It is recorded that the First Lord of the Admiralty, Lord Haddington, in conversing with Sir Edward Parry upon the advisability of offering Franklin the post of commanding officer, remarked:—

“I see Franklin is sixty years old. Ought we to let him go?” to which Parry answered,—

“My lord, he is the best man for the post I know, and if you don’t let him go, he will, I am certain, die of disappointment.”

In an interview with Franklin, Lord Haddington spoke again of his age being sixty, and added,—

“You might be content with your laurels, after having done so much for your country,” to which Franklin replied with all the eagerness of youth,—

“No, no! my lord, only fifty-nine!”

Lord Brougham, when told that the command had been accepted by Franklin, remarked,—

“Arctic work gets into the blood of these men. They can’t help going again if they get a chance.”

The Erebus and Terror were both ships that had seen many years’ service in Arctic and Antarctic seas. They were provisioned for three years and supplied with every facility for scientific and geographical observations. The combined crews and officers number one hundred and thirty-eight souls. In company with the transport, Barreto Junior, the expedition sailed from Greenhithe on the 19th of May, 1845.

The 4th of July, they reached Whale Fish Island, near Disco, in Greenland, and here the Barreto Junior transferred to the Erebus and Terror her extra stores, returning to England with the last message from Franklin ever received by the Admiralty.

“The ships are now complete with supplies of every kind for three years; they are therefore very deep, but happily we have no reason to expect much sea as we proceed further.”

With confidence and enthusiasm, John Franklin turned to the north, “much better in health,” Lieutenant Fairholme had written, “than when we left home, and really looks ten years younger. He takes an active part in everything that goes on, and his long experience in such service makes him a most valuable adviser.”

On the 26th of July, the Prince of Wales, a whaling vessel, saw the two ships in Melville Bay, waiting a favourable opportunity for pushing through the “middle ice.” Signals were exchanged and an invitation extended to Franklin to dine with the captain of the whaling ship. A breeze springing up, the Erebus and Terror parted company with the Prince of Wales.

As if alluringly beckoned by that fatal enchantress, the “Lady of the Mists,” Sir John Franklin and his gallant crew silently glided into the unknown, and from that hour were lost to the world forever.