Deep, indeed, was the mortification experienced by every one who shared the feelings and anticipations of Lady Franklin when the untoward news came, in the summer of 1858, that, the preceding winter having set in earlier than usual, the 'Fox' had been beset in the ice off Melville Bay, on the coast of Greenland, and after a dreary winter, various narrow escapes, and eight months of imprisonment, had been carried back by the floating ice nearly twelve hundred geographical miles—even to 63½° N. lat. in the Atlantic! See the woodcut map, No. 1.

But although the good little yacht had been most roughly handled among the ice-floes (see [Frontispiece]), we were cheered up by the information from Disco, that, with the exception of the death of the engine-driver in consequence of a fall into the hold, the crew were in stout health and full of energy, and that provided with sufficient fuel and provisions, a good supply of sledging dogs, two tried Esquimaux, and the excellent interpreter Petersen the Dane,[3] ample grounds yet remained to lead us to hope for a successful issue. Above all, we were encouraged by the proofs of the self-possession and calm resolve of M'Clintock, who held steadily to the accomplishment of his original project; the more so as he had then tested and recognized the value of the services of Lieutenant (now Commander) Hobson, his able second in command; of Captain Allen Young, his generous volunteer associate;[4] and of Dr. Walker, his accomplished Surgeon.

Despite, however, of these re-assuring data, many an advocate of this search was anxiously alive to the chance of the failure of the venture of one unassisted yacht, which after sundry mishaps was again starting to cross Baffin's Bay, with the foreknowledge, that when she reached the opposite coast, the real difficulties of the enterprise were to commence.

Any such misgivings were happily illusory; and the reader who follows M'Clintock across the "middle ice" of Baffin's Bay to Pond Inlet, thence to Beechey Island, down a portion of Peel Strait, and then through the hitherto unnavigated waters of Bellot Strait in one summer season, may reasonably expect the success which followed.

Whilst the revelation obtained from the long-sought records, which were discovered by Lieutenant Hobson, is most satisfactory to those who speculated on the probability of Franklin having, in the first instance, tried to force his way northwards through Wellington Channel (as we now learn he did), those who held a different hypothesis, namely, that he followed his instructions, which directed him to the S.W., may be amply satisfied that in the following season the ships did pursue this southerly course till they were finally beset in N. lat. 70° 05'.[5]

At the same time, the public should fully understand the motive which prompted the supporters of Lady Franklin in advocating the last search. Putting aside the hope which some of us entertained, that a few of the younger men of the missing expedition might still be found to be living among the Esquimaux, we had every reason to expect, that if the ships were discovered, the scientific documents of the voyage, including valuable magnetic observations, would be recovered.

In the absence of such good fortune we may, however, well be gladdened by the discovery of that one precious document which gives us a true outline of the voyage of the 'Erebus' and 'Terror.'

That the reader may comprehend the vast extent of sea traversed by Franklin in the two summers before his ships were beset, a small map (No. 2) is here introduced representing all the lands and seas of the Arctic regions to the west of Lancaster Sound which were known and laid down when he sailed. The dotted lines and arrows, which extend from the then known seas and lands into the unknown waters or blank spaces on this old map, indicate Franklin's route, the novelty, range, rapidity, and boldness of which, as thus delineated, may well surprise the geographer, and even the most enterprising Arctic sailor.[6] For, those who have not closely attended to the results of other Arctic voyages may be informed, that rarely has an expedition in the first year accomplished more by its ships, than the establishing of good winter quarters, from whence the real researches began by sledge-work in the ensuing spring. Franklin, however, not only reached Beechey Island, but ascended Wellington Channel, then an unknown sea, to 77° N. lat., a more northern latitude in this meridian than that attained long afterwards in ships by Sir Edward Belcher, and much to the north of the points reached by Penny and De Haven. Next, though most scantily provided with steam-power, Franklin navigated round Cornwallis' Land, which he thus proved to be an island. The last discovery of a navigable channel throughout, between Cornwallis and Bathurst Islands, though made in the very summer he left England, has remained even to this day unknown to other navigators!

Franklin then, in obedience to his orders, steered to the south-west. Passing, as M'Clintock believes, down Peel's Strait in 1846, and reaching as far as lat. 70° 05' N., and long. 98° 23' W., where the ships were beset, it is clear that he, who, with others, had previously ascertained the existence of a channel along the north coast of America, with which the sea wherein he was interred had a direct communication, was the first real discoverer of the North-West Passage. This great fact must therefore be inscribed upon the monument of Franklin.

The adventurous M'Clure, who has been worthily honored for working out another North-Western passage, which we now know to have been of subsequent date,[7] as well as Collinson, who, taking the 'Enterprise' along the north coast of America, and afterwards bringing her home, reached with sledges the western edge of the area recently laid open by M'Clintock, will I have no doubt unite with their Arctic associates, Richardson, Sherard Osborn, and M'Clintock, in affirming, that "Franklin and his followers secured the honor for which they died—that of being the first discoverers of the North-West Passage."[8]