With Parry's first expedition, which took place in the following year (1819), the epoch of modern discoveries in the Arctic Ocean, may properly be said to begin. Sailing right through Lancaster Sound, he discovered Prince Regent Inlet, Wellington Channel, and Melville Island. Willingly would he have proceeded farther to the west, but the ice was now rapidly gathering, the vessels were soon beset, and, after getting free with great difficulty, Parry was only too glad to turn back, and settle down in Winter Harbour. It was no easy task to attain this dreary port, as a canal two miles and a third in length had first to be cut through solid ice of seven inches average thickness, yet such was the energy of that splendid expedition, that the Herculean labour was accomplished in three days. The two vessels were immediately put in winter trim, the decks housed over, heating apparatus arranged, and everything done to make the ten months' imprisonment in those Arctic solitudes as comfortable as possible.
It was not before the 1st of August that the ships were able to leave Winter Harbour, when Parry once more stood boldly for the west, but no amount of skill or patience could penetrate the obstinate masses of ice, or insure the safety of the vessels under the repeated shocks they sustained. Finding the barriers absolutely invincible he gave way, and, steering homeward, reached London on Nov. 3, 1820, where, as may well be imagined, his reception was most enthusiastic and cordial.
While this wonderful voyage was performing, Franklin, Richardson, and Back, with two English sailors and a troop of Canadians and Indians, were penetrating by land to the mouth of the Coppermine River, whence they intended to make a boat-voyage of discovery along the coasts of the Icy Ocean. An idea of the difficulties of this undertaking may be formed, when I mention that the travellers started from Fort York, in Hudson's Bay, on the 30th of August, 1819, and after a voyage of 700 miles up the Saskatchewan, reached Fort Cumberland, where they spent the first winter. The next found them 700 miles further on their journey, established during the extreme cold at Fort Enterprise. During the summer of 1821 they accomplished the remaining 334 miles, and on the 21st of July commenced their exploration of the Polar Sea in two birch-bark canoes. In these frail shallops they skirted the desolate coast of the American continent, 555 miles to the east of the Coppermine, as far as Point Turnagain, when the rapid decrease of their provisions and the shattered state of the canoes imperatively compelled their return. And now began a dreadful land-journey of two months, accompanied by all the horrors of famine. A lichen, called by the Canadians tripe de roche (rock-tripe), afforded them for some time a wretched subsistence, and, that failing, they were glad to satisfy their hunger with scraps of roasted leather or burnt bones, from prey which the wolves might have abandoned. On reaching the Coppermine a raft had to be framed, a task accomplished with the utmost difficulty by the exhausted party. One or two of the Canadians had already fallen behind, and never rejoined their comrades, and now three or four sank down, and could proceed no farther. Back, with the most vigorous of the men, had already pushed on to send help from Fort Enterprise; and Richardson, Hood, and Hepburn volunteered to remain with the disabled men, near a supply of the rock-tripe, while Franklin pursued his journey with the others capable of bearing him company. On reaching Fort Enterprise this last party found that wretched tenement completely deserted, and a note from Back stating that he had gone in pursuit of the Indians. Some cast-off deer-skins and a heap of bones, provisions worthy of the place, sustained their flickering life-flame, and after eighteen miserable days, they were joined in their dreary quarters by Richardson and Hepburn, the sole survivors of their party. At length, when on the point of sinking under their sufferings, three Indians sent by Back brought them timely succour. After a while they were able to join this valuable friend, and the following year brought them safely back to England.
I pass over Parry's second and third voyages, undertaken in the years 1821 and 1824, which were consumed in fruitless endeavours to penetrate westward; the first through some unknown channel to the north of Hudson's Bay, the second through Prince Regent's Inlet; but his last attempt to reach the North Pole, by boat and sledge-travelling over the ice, is of too novel and daring a character to remain unnoticed. His hopes of success were founded on Scoresby's descriptions, who had seen ice-fields so free from either fissure or hummock, that, had they not been covered with snow, a coach might have been driven many leagues over them in a direct line, without obstruction or danger; but when Parry reached the ice-fields to the north of Spitzbergen he found them of a very different nature, composed of loose rugged masses, which rendered travelling over them extremely irksome and slow.
The strong flat-bottomed boats—amphibious constructions, half sledge, half canoe,—expressly built for an amphibious journey over a region where solid ice was expected to alternate with pools of water, had thus frequently to be unloaded, in order to be raised over the intervening blocks or mounds, and repeated journeys backward and forward over the same ground were the necessary consequences. In some places the ice took the form of sharp pointed crystals, which cut the boots like penknives; in others, sixteen or eighteen inches of soft snow made the work of boat-dragging both fatiguing and tedious. Sometimes the men were obliged, in dragging the boats, to crawl on all-fours, to make any progress at all, and one day, when heavy rain melted the surface of the ice, four hours of vigorous effort accomplished only half a mile.
Yet in spite of all these obstacles they toiled cheerfully on and on, until at length the discovery was made, that while they were apparently advancing towards the Pole, the ice-field on which they journeyed was moving to the south, and thus rendering all their exertions fruitless. Yet though disappointed in his great hope of planting his country's standard on that unattainable goal, Parry had the glory of reaching the highest latitude (82° 45′) ever attained by man.
Before this adventurous voyage, Franklin, Richardson, and Back, forgetful of their long life and death struggle with famine (1819), had once more (1825) with heroic perseverance bent their steps to the north. This time they chose the mouths of the Mackenzie for the starting-point of their discoveries, and having separated into two parties, proceeded to the east and west, and explored 4000 miles of unknown coast.
In 1829 Captain John Ross, having for a long time vainly solicited government to send him out once more on an Arctic expedition, was enabled by the munificence of a private individual, Mr. Felix Booth, to accomplish his wishes, and to purchase a small steamer, to which the rather presumptuous name of "Victory" was given. The selection of the vessel was no doubt unlucky enough: for can anything be conceived more unpractical than paddle-boxes among ice-blocks; but, to make amends for this error, the veteran commander was fortunate in being accompanied by his illustrious nephew, James Ross, who with every quality of the seaman united the ardour and knowledge of the most zealous naturalist.
He it was who discovered the peninsula which in compliment to the patron of the expedition was named Boothia Felix; to him also we owe the discovery of the Magnetic Pole; but the voyage is far less remarkable for these after all not very important successes, than for its unexampled protraction during a space of five years.
The first season had a fortunate termination. On the 10th of August, 1829, the "Victory" attained Prince Regent's Inlet, and reached on the 13th the spot where Parry on his third voyage had been obliged to abandon the "Fury." Of the ship itself no traces remained; but the provisions which had providently been stored up on land were found untouched. The solid tin boxes had effectually preserved them from the voracity of the white bears; and the flour, bread, wine, rum, and sugar were found as good after four years, as on the day when the expedition started.