In the dockyard a quieter scene explained the reason. Two vessels, of no great size, and which at any other time would not have attracted special attention, were lying, with full steam up and bows pointed to the stream, ready for immediate departure. They bore the names of the Alert and Discovery, and were about to start on a prolonged Arctic voyage. On the jetty the relatives and friends of some 120 officers and blue-jackets were assembled to bid the last farewell, the last God-speed to men about to encounter many known and unknown dangers in a field of action where peril is the daily concomitant of existence. We can well believe that the fate of Franklin and his gallant band—in numbers almost literally identical with the two ships’ companies about to depart—would recur to the minds of some, and that many a mother prayed that night, and later—
“O Heaven, my child in mercy spare!
O God, where’er he be;
O God, my God, in pity spare
My boy to-night at sea!”
We shall not attempt to depict a scene familiar to all who have voyaged or who know much of seaport life, although this was a special case.
CAPTAIN NARES CONDUCTING H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES OVER THE ALERT AT PORTSMOUTH.
“A sailor’s life must be
Spent away on the far, far sea,