The Erebus and Terror were fitted out for the service with all the most modern appliances. Provided as they were with engines of twenty horse-power and auxiliary screws, they were the first Arctic vessels to put the discovery of steam to practical use, for the engines of the Victory, as we have seen, were so crude that they had to be discarded. Naturally enough the authorities were flooded with applications for appointments to the ships, and they were able, in consequence, to select some of the most able officers in the navy for the service, among them being Commander Fitzjames, who had been through the China War; Crozier and Graham Gore, who had served under Parry and Ross; Fairholme, Hodgson, and Des Vœux.
Franklin’s official instructions were to pass through Lancaster Sound with all possible despatch, wasting no time in examining openings to the northward, and, after reaching Cape Walker, to turn southward and eastward with a view to finding his way to Behring Strait. Should neither of these two routes prove practicable, he was to go northward up Wellington Channel in the second summer.
The two ships sailed from the Thames on May 19, 1845, and were soon well on their way up Baffin Bay. Most of what we know of the early part of the voyage we owe to Commander Fitzjames, a delightful correspondent, who, in a series of letters to Mrs Coningham, gave some character sketches of his companions which are well worth preserving. Here is a passage which refers to Franklin. “I like a man who is in earnest. Sir John Franklin read the church service to-day, and a sermon, so very beautifully that I defy any man not to feel the force of what he would convey. The first Sunday he read was a day or two before we sailed, when Lady Franklin, his daughter, and niece attended. Everyone was struck with his extreme earnestness of manner, evidently proceeding from real conviction.... We are very fond of Sir John Franklin, who improves very much as we come to know more of him. He is anything but nervous or fidgety; in fact, I should say remarkable for energetic decision in sudden emergencies, but I should think he might be easily persuaded where he has not already formed a strong opinion.”
Here is a note on the purser. “I have just had a game of chess with the purser, Osmer, who is delightful.... I was at first inclined to think that he was a stupid old man, because he had a chin and took snuff; but he is as merry-hearted as any young man, full of quaint, dry sayings, always good-humoured, always laughing, never a bore, takes his pinch after dinner, plays a rubber, and beats me at chess—and he is a gentleman.”
The subject of the next sketch to be quoted is Harry Goodsir, the assistant-surgeon of the Erebus, who, though still young, was already well known as a naturalist of more than ordinary ability. Before taking up his appointment to the expedition he had been curator of the Edinburgh museum. “I can’t make out,” says Fitzjames, “why Scotchmen just caught always speak in a low, hesitating, monotonous tone of voice, which is not at all times to be understood; this is, I believe, called ‘cannyness.’ Mr Goodsir is ‘canny.’ He is long and straight, and walks upright on his toes, with his hands tucked up in each jacket pocket. He is perfectly good-humoured, very well informed on general points, in natural history learned, was curator of the Edinburgh museum, appears to be about twenty-eight years of age, laughs delightfully, cannot be in a passion, is enthusiastic about all ’ologies, draws the insides of microscopic animals with an imaginary pointed pencil, catches phenomena in a bucket, looks at the thermometer and every other meter, is a pleasant companion and an acquisition to the mess.”
Crouch, the mate, “is a little black-haired, smooth-faced fellow, good-humoured in his own way; writes, reads, works, draws, all quietly; is never in the way of anybody, and always ready when wanted; but I can find no remarkable point in his character, except, perhaps, that he is, I should think, obstinate. Stanley, the surgeon, ... is rather inclined to be good-looking, but fat, with jet-black hair, very white hands, which are always abominably clean, and the shirt sleeves tucked up, giving one unpleasant ideas that he would not mind cutting off one’s leg immediately—if not sooner.” Graham Gore, the first lieutenant, is “a man of great stability of character, a very good officer and the sweetest of tempers. He plays the flute dreadfully well, draws sometimes very well and sometimes very badly, but is altogether a capital fellow.”
The expedition was probably the happiest and the most united that ever set out from England, and some of Sir John’s kindly spirit seems to have been infused into all the members of the party. As an example of the good feeling which pervaded the whole crew, a little story concerning Osmer, the purser, may be quoted from Fitzjames’s diary. It occurred when the ships were off the Danish settlement of Disco, a spot where the scenery is grand but unutterably bleak and desolate. Fitzjames happened to go on deck at midnight, and there he found Osmer indulging in a little pas-seul. “What a happy fellow you are!” exclaimed Fitzjames, “always in a good humour.” “Well, sir,” said the purser, “if I am not happy here, I don’t know where else I could be.”
The first few days of July were spent off Disco, taking in supplies and generally making the last preparations for the Arctic journey. At this time the prospects of success seemed to be unusually bright. The season at Disco was the mildest and earliest ever known, and, in their last letters home, the officers asked their relations, in jest, to address their future correspondence to Petropaulovski, a seaport beyond the Behring Strait, on the coast of Asiatic Russia.
There is a passage in one of these letters, written by Lieutenant Fairholme, which we cannot refrain from quoting, as it forms the last tribute to Franklin that was penned during his life. “On board,” it runs, “we are as comfortable as it is possible to be. I need hardly tell you how much we are all delighted with our captain. He has, I am sure, won not only the respect, but the love of every person on board by his amiable manner and kindness to all, and his influence is always employed for some good purpose, both among the officers and men. He has been most successful in his selection of officers, and a more agreeable set could hardly be found. Sir John is in much better health than when we left England, and really looks ten years younger. He takes an active part in everything that goes on, and his long experience in such services as this makes him a most valuable adviser.”
On July 12 Franklin wrote his last official letter to the Admiralty. “The ships,” he says, “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 farther.... It is unnecessary to assure their lordships of the energy and zeal of Captain Crozier, Commander Fitzjames, and the officers and men with whom I have the happiness of being employed on this service.”