In 1855, the Hudson Bay Company, at the request of the Admiralty, sent an expedition, conducted by Mr. Anderson, to explore the Fish River. Mr. Anderson returned, having ascertained that a portion of the missing crews had been on Montreal Island, in the mouth of that river; but Mr. Anderson, without an interpreter, or the means of going beyond the island, could only gather the most meagre information by signs from the Esquimaux, and by a few relics found upon the land. Where the ships had been left, or what had become of the people, seemed as great a mystery as ever.
It was then that Lady Franklin (who had already sent out three expeditions) urged again that the search should be continued, and that our countrymen should not thus be left to their fate; but although her appeal was backed by the most competent officers, the season of 1856 passed away without endeavours to clear up the mystery; and determining that another year should not be lost in vain entreaties, Lady Franklin once more undertook the responsibilities and the expenses of a final effort to rescue our long-lost sailors from their perhaps living death among the Esquimaux, or to follow up their footsteps in their last journey upon earth, and to give to the world the scientific results of the expedition for which those gallant men had given up their lives.
In the spring of 1857 Lady Franklin commenced preparations for the contemplated expedition. She was supported by some of the most distinguished Arctic officers and scientific men, and the friends of Sir John Franklin, among whom were Sir Roderick Murchison, General Sabine, Captain Collinson, and many others.
To Captain M‘Clintock was offered the command; and he who had served in three previous expeditions, and to whom are principally due the results of the extraordinary journeys over the ice that have been made during the search for Franklin, cheerfully accepted the appointment, as, in his own words, being the post of honour.
The next thing was to seek a suitable vessel, and fortunately the Fox was in the market. Built for a yacht of some 180 tons register, with auxiliary steam-power applied to a lifting screw, the Fox appeared in every way adapted for the service. She was at once purchased, and the necessary alterations and fortifying commenced; and such was the feeling of confidence in Captain M‘Clintock’s sincerity of purpose, his daring and determination, combined with eminent talent, and every qualification for command, that numbers sought the honour of serving with him. The few who were so fortunate as to be selected were soon appointed in their different capacities, and by the exertions of Lady Franklin and Captain M‘Clintock everything that could possibly conduce to the comfort or recreation of the ship’s company was supplied, and the Fox was ready for sea by the end of June.
We intended first to touch at some of the Danish settlements in Greenland, to purchase sledge-dogs; then to proceed to Beechey Island, and there to fill up stores from the depôt left by Sir E. Belcher. We were next to endeavour to sail down Peel Sound (supposed to be a strait), but failing by that channel, to try down Regent’s Inlet, and by the supposed Bellot Straits to reach the neighbourhood of the Great Fish River; and having in the summer of 1857 and following spring searched the adjacent country, we should return home either westward by Behring’s Straits, or by our outward route, according to circumstances. If we failed to reach King William Land or the Fish River, it was our intention to winter as near the desired position as possible, and by means of sledge journeys over the ice, to complete the search in the following spring. We hoped to finish the work in one year; but in this we were to be disappointed, as the narrative will show.
We left Aberdeen on July 1, 1857; and after a favourable run across the Atlantic, we made our first acquaintance with the Arctic Seas when near the meridian of Cape Farewell, by falling in with the drift-wood annually brought from Arctic Asia by the great current known as the Spitzbergen current—the shattered and mangled state of these pine logs bearing evidence of their long water-and-ice-borne drift. This great Arctic current brings masses of ice from the Spitzbergen seas, at seasons completely filling up the fiords, harbours, and indentations on the south coast of Greenland, and often in a pack extending for 100 miles southward of Cape Farewell. A whole fleet of whale ships were, in June, 1777, beset in lat. 76° north, and nearly in the meridian of Spitzbergen, and were drifted southward by the current, until one by one they were crushed. The last and only surviving ship arrived in October, in latitude 61°, in Davis’ Straits, and the crew escaped to the land near Cape Farewell, 116 in number, out of 450 men, who only a few short months before were looking forward to a happy return to their homes.
Late in the summer, the weather mild and the nights short, and with steam-power at command, we had no occasion for much anxiety about this ice, but determined to push direct for Frederickshaab, and with a fair wind we steered to pass within sight of Cape Farewell. On the night of the 13th July, we were becalmed, and on the following day we steamed slowly to the north-westward, amidst countless numbers of sea-birds. At daylight the coast of Greenland showed out in all its wild magnificence. Cape Farewell bore north 45° east, distant twenty-five miles; but from the peculiar formation of the adjacent land the actual cape is difficult to distinguish. Hitherto we had not seen the Spitzbergen ice; and we hoped that we might follow the coast round to Frederickshaab without obstruction; but in the course of the forenoon a sudden fall in the temperature of the sea, with a haziness in the atmosphere to the northward, indicated our approach to ice. Straggling and water-washed pieces were soon met with, and in the evening the distant murmur of the sea, as it broke upon the edge of ice-floes, warned us of our being near to a pack.
We made but little progress during the two following days, the winds being from the northward, and a dense ice-fog rolling down from the pack. On the 17th, Frederickshaab bearing N. 28° E., distant fifty miles, we determined upon endeavouring to push through the pack; and after being at times completely beset, and with a constant thick fog, we escaped into the inshore water, with a few slight rubs, having been carried by the drifting body of ice nearly thirty miles northward of our port. We sounded upon the Tallert bank; and on the fog lifting, the great glacier of Frederickshaab was revealed to us, and we bore away for the harbour, which we reached on the 19th. We had a little difficulty at first in making out the entrance to Frederickshaab; but a native kyack coming out to meet us, we were soon escorted in by a fleet of these small canoes.