Arctic exploration

We now come to one of the strangest chapters in the whole history of the Franklin search. That Sir Edward Belcher’s expedition, the last, and in every way the most complete equipped by the Government, was a fiasco it is quite impossible to deny. At the time public feeling ran very high about it, and Belcher became the object of much opprobrium, more, probably, than he actually deserved. The fact, however, that five valuable ships had been abandoned, apparently unnecessarily, that not a single trace of Franklin had been found, and that the search was given up, although its field had been so narrowed down that the direction which the missing expedition had taken was practically a matter of certainty, naturally rankled in the breasts of the British taxpayers. Belcher himself, too, added fuel to the fire by writing a singularly fatuous account of his travels which is largely composed of stories illustrative of his own preternatural sagacity.

We do not propose to dwell at very great length upon Belcher’s monumental work, much of which, indeed, is absolutely unintelligible to the average mind; but it contains one or two gems which ought to be preserved.

He imagined himself to be the happy possessor, among other things, of a marvellous gift of prophecy, very nearly, as he naïvely remarks, approaching to sorcery. In support of this claim he mentions the following incident in his diary.

“To-day I felt so perfectly satisfied that a sledge was due from Kellett (if he existed), that I fully intended when the master reported noon, to desire him to send a person to look out on the hill. It escaped me, being then engaged on other matters; but my clerk coming in, reporting, ‘A dog sledge nearly alongside, sir!’ my reply, instigated by what was then passing in my mind, was very short, and without emotion, ‘I know it,’ which somewhat astonished him.” Parenthetically, we may remark that this is a very fair example of the author’s style as well as of his gift of prophecy.

Here, too, is a delicious passage which contains several bulls of the finest dimensions. “I ascended the hill, where I had ordered a cairn to be built; possibly it was deemed too steep for younger blood; we built three, one was a house, the two others were constructed by myself—the last being on the inaccessible summit of True Star Bluff—and unattended. I must say that I would not have ordered it to be done by any but a volunteer.” The italics are our own; the English, however, is entirely Sir Edward Belcher’s.

But we must return to the expedition itself, resisting the temptation to quote further examples of its leader’s unconscious humour. The Government was evidently disposed to leave no stone unturned to make it as complete as possible. The active work of the search was to be pushed on from four ships, the Assistance, Commander G. H. Richards; the Resolute, Captain Henry Kellett; the Pioneer, Lieutenant Sherard Osborn; and the Intrepid, Commander F. L. M’Clintock. In addition to these, the expedition was provided with a depôt ship, the North Star, commanded by Lieutenant Pullen. The plan of campaign was to be as follows: On reaching the western end of Lancaster Sound the squadron was to divide into two parts. The Assistance and its tender, the Pioneer, were to devote their attention to Wellington Channel, while the Resolute with its tender, the Intrepid, was to visit Melville Island and explore the Parry Islands. For some reason known only to themselves, the Arctic committee had decided that it would be useless to pursue the search south of these regions.

The rendezvous at Beechey Island was reached without misadventure, and the two divisions immediately set off in their several directions, leaving the North Star behind. Kellett, with the Resolute and Intrepid, sailed direct for Winter Harbour, which he had intended to make his headquarters. He was disappointed, however, to find it entirely blocked with ice, and he was compelled, in consequence, to moor his ships in a bay between Dealy Island and the mainland, which was found to answer his purpose admirably. No sooner were the preparations for the winter completed than the work of sending out sledge parties began. He was fortunate in having several excellent officers under his command, among them being Lieutenants Mecham, Bedford Pim, and Hamilton, the mate, Mr Nares, who commanded the great Polar expedition of 1875, and De Bray, a French volunteer. The brief autumn days were spent not in the serious work of the search, but in forming depôts of provisions at points where it was thought that they would be most useful on the long spring journeys, and it was during one of these that Mecham visited Winter Harbour and found the paper that M’Clure had left there during the spring of the same year, recording the detention of the Investigator in Mercy Bay and the discovery of the North-West Passage.

The winter passed uneventfully enough, but as soon as the first signs of the advent of spring appeared, the ship was alive with preparations for the sledge journeys. One of the first to be sent out was that which Lieutenant Bedford Pim conducted in search of the Investigator, but as we have already dealt with that, it is unnecessary to dwell upon it again here. Nor is there very much to be said concerning the parties led by M’Clintock of the Intrepid, and Mecham and Hamilton of the Resolute. By exploring the Parry Islands thoroughly they added greatly to the world’s store of knowledge concerning those regions, but one sledge journey in the Arctic regions bears a very strong family likeness to another, and these differed from their predecessors in no important essentials. Some idea of the vigour with which the work was pushed forward, however, may be gathered from the following figures. During the autumn and spring M’Clintock, the greatest of all Arctic sledgemen, covered 1661 miles in 145 days, Mecham, 1375 miles in 117 days, Roche, 1039 miles in 79 days, Nares, 980 miles in 94 days, Domville, 739 miles in 77 days, and De Bray, 642 miles in 62 days. Altogether, the various parties covered about 8558 miles, most of which had never been traversed by a white man before.

Early in August, 1853, the ice began to loosen, and Kellett, realising that nothing further could be done in these regions so far as the Franklin search was concerned, decided to sail for Beechey Island. He was not destined, however, to get very far, for on September 9th the ships were caught in the pack, and were soon so firmly embedded in it that there was no prospect whatever of escape during that season at any rate. The outlook, however, was not unpromising, for the ice, after drifting eastward for a while, soon became stationary, and Kellett found himself in a position which pointed to an early escape during the following summer. It was disappointing, of course, especially for those members of the Investigator’s crew who were on board, but, as they had been so fortunate as to obtain an ample supply of game, there was no prospect of starvation.

Early in the spring of 1854 Kellett decided to send out three sledge parties, one under Krabbe, to report on the condition of the Investigator, another under Hamilton to open up communications with Sir Edward Belcher, and the third under Mecham to explore Princess Royal Islands, in Prince of Wales’ Strait. Of these three the last was by far the most remarkable. In the face of immense difficulties, Mecham and his men made their way to Princess Royal Islands, and there they found records left by Captain Collinson of the Enterprise, which, it will be remembered started out with, but was soon separated from the Investigator. From these records they learnt that Collinson had passed up the strait as far as Point Peel, had turned back and had passed the winter of 1851-52 in lat. 71° 36′ N., long. 117° 41′ W. The records went on to say that the north and south shores of Prince Albert Land had been thoroughly explored, that several parties had visited Point Hearne, on Melville Island, and that the ship had left with a view to exploring a passage which, it was supposed, separated Prince Albert Land from Wollaston Land. Having obtained this intelligence, Mecham resolved to return at once to the Resolute. On reaching Dealy Island, however, he found orders to make for Beechey Island, which he accordingly proceeded to do, arriving there on June 12, after an extraordinary journey of 70 days during which he and his men had covered 1336 miles.

It is now time to return to the fortunes of Sir Edward Belcher and the Assistance. It will be remembered that when Kellett sailed away westward, Belcher and his two ships turned northwards with the intention of exploring Wellington Channel. Fortune favoured them and they passed without difficulty first up Wellington and then through Queen’s Channel to Northumberland Sound, on the west side of Grinnell Peninsula. Belcher soon found himself at the entrance to the Polar Sea, and his voyage resulted in the discovery of Belcher Channel, which links up Queen’s Channel with Jones’ Sound. He did not push his explorations very far, however, for, having received dispatches telling him of the rescue of the Investigators, he suddenly turned back presumably with the intention of intercepting Kellett at Beechey Island. He did not succeed in reaching his proposed destination, for, when about fifty miles from the mouth of Wellington Channel the Assistance was caught in the ice.

Early in September Sherard Osborn set out with dispatches for Beechey Island. On his return he brought news of the arrival of H.M.S. Phœnix, commanded by Captain Inglefield, and of the sad death of Lieutenant Bellot who had volunteered for service on the Phœnix, which was sent out with supplementary stores for the North Star. Bellot, it appeared, had started off for the Assistance with a number of official letters for Sir Edward Belcher. On the way, while travelling over the ice, he had suddenly and completely disappeared, and it was supposed that he had met his death by slipping down into a crevice between two hummocks.

During the winter Belcher indulged in another fit of prophecy, in the course of which he foresaw that he would shortly receive orders from England to abandon his ships and make the best of his way home. He accordingly decided to anticipate these commands, and immediately set about making preparations for quitting the vessels in the spring. His orders came upon his officers like a bolt from the blue. Having no idea that he contemplated any such step, they had carefully husbanded their provisions, and, as their men were, on the whole, in excellent health, they could see no reason why an attempt to extricate the ships should not be made during the summer. Belcher, however, secure in his faith in his prophetic instinct, was as adamant, and nothing that they could say could move him from his purpose. Accordingly, early in May the four ships were put in order and the crews, regretting bitterly the step which they were compelled to take, bade them a last farewell. In accordance with Belcher’s orders, they met on the North Star at Beechey Island, and there they were eventually found by the two transport ships, the Phœnix and the Talbot.

The abandonment of these five vessels created much unpleasant feeling in the country. Not only did it entail a serious financial loss, apparently unnecessarily, but it also discouraged the Government from taking any further steps towards the discovery of the fate of Franklin and his expedition. In the middle of October, a court martial was held with a view to sifting the matter thoroughly. M’Clure and Kellett were first tried on the charge of abandoning the Investigator and the Resolute, but they were naturally enough acquitted, as they were able to show that they were acting under the orders of their superior officer. Their swords were returned to them with sundry graceful compliments by Admiral Gordon, the president of the court. Sir Edward Belcher was also acquitted, but with an implied rebuke, a rebuke which was pointed by the return of his sword in dead silence.

Most of the ships were never seen again. The Resolute, however, drifted 1000 miles through Barrow Strait, Lancaster Sound and Baffin Bay, and was eventually found off Cape Dyer by Captain J. M. Buddington, an American whaler. Buddington brought the ship safely to the United States’ port of New London, where she was promptly purchased by the American Government for $40,000. She was then refitted, the ship’s stores, flags, officer’s libraries and her other appointments were restored to their original positions and she was presented to the Queen and the people of Great Britain as a token of goodwill on the part of the American nation.