The Franklin Conspiracy Read online

  And then McClintock could only stare in disbelief. Someone had been there before him. One side of the cairn had been torn down and the central stones had been pulled out, “as if by persons seeking for something deposited beneath.”10 Now there could be little doubt remaining; something had indeed been left in the cairn and someone had stolen it long before McClintock’s arrival. The significance could hardly be missed. The navy had put up remarkably little resistance to Lady Franklin’s final voyage; permission had been granted for officers to join; pemmican and powder had been kindly provided. If Jane Franklin had been there to witness the discovery of the looted cairn, she would most certainly have heard the other shoe drop.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Whodunit?

  And to her amazement she discovered

  A wicked man in the bathroom cupboard.

  Gavin Ewart,

  Miss Twye

  UNLESS THEY FOUND WHAT THEY SOUGHT

  McClintock was adamant. In his published journal, he fretted over the problem like a sledge dog worrying a seal bone, italics abounding. “Close round this point, or by cutting across it as we did, the retreating parties must have passed.” The chance to leave their records in such an obvious location “would scarcely have been disregarded.”1 The men tore apart the cairn, then attacked the ground beneath with pick-axes, but there was nothing to find. “I cannot divest myself of the belief that some record was left here by the retreating crews.” McClintock emphasized angrily, “and perhaps some most valuable documents which their slow progress and fast failing strength would have assured them could not be carried further.”2

  But who? Who could have taken it? McClintock’s party were supposed to be the only white men to have walked the shores of King William Island since Franklin’s crew had died here. In his published journal, McClintock placed the blame on the only people he could: the Inuit. Perhaps, he hypothesized, after the Inuit learned of the last march of Franklin’s crew, they had then “lost no time in following up their traces, examining every spot where they halted, every mark they put up or stone displaced.”3 And yet, had not McClintock already noticed that the Inuit had so clearly not looted the steward’s body found to the east? Indeed, it would soon become evident that, far from “examining every spot where they halted”, the Inuit had confined their looting to the southernmost spots along King William Island and the mainland, and to the stranded ship, wherever that was.

  But McClintock continued, “To the eye of the native hunter these marks of a recent cairn are at once apparent: and unless Simpson’s cairn . . . had been disturbed by Crozier [Franklin’s second-in-command], I do not think the Esquimaux would have been at the trouble of pulling it down to plunder the cache; but having commenced to do so, would not have left any of it standing, unless they found what they sought.”4

  The italics are all his and it was a remarkable statement. McClintock was well aware that the Inuit had no use for papers, which they tended to either give to their children to play with or else scatter to the winds. Even if an Inuk had opened Simpson’s cairn and discovered records left by Franklin’s crews, the discovery could only have encouraged him to continue the dismantling of the cairn in the hopes that something of real value might be found. As McClintock said, the fact that the cairn had been only partially dismantled proved that, whoever had done the deed, had “found what they sought”. It is difficult not to see in McClintock’s statement a hint of accusation, subtly worded, but there just the same. He was convinced the cairn had contained the records of the Franklin expedition. Someone had deliberately opened that cairn and “found what they sought”, then left the remainder of the cairn untouched. Blame the Inuit though he might, his words suggest a different line of reasoning.

  THE SUSPECTS

  But, if not the Inuit, then who?

  The list of suspects was hardly extensive. Ignoring the possibility of a secret expedition, the suspects are confined to the few expeditions known to have visited the area in the years after Franklin’s disappearance. There was Captain Kennedy and Bellot, whose original plans would have carried them down the west coast of Somerset Island and Boothia, perhaps even to King William Island. But, as far as anyone knew, Kennedy and Bellot altered their plans at the last minute, instead visiting Prince of Wales Island to the north.

  The sledgers under Captain Ommanney had likewise confined their searches to Prince of Wales Island. Then there was Captain Collinson; during his sledge trip, he had visited the east shore of Victoria Island just across the strait from King William Island. Could he have crossed the strait to loot Simpson’s cairn at Cape Herschel? It is certainly possible, but though he was a mere fifty miles from Victory Point, this does not mean he was close to Cape Herschel, which would have required a considerable journey to reach from Victoria Island.

  In fact, the only searcher to truly come close to Simpson’s cairn was Chief Factor Anderson. He had been sent up the Great Fish River to check out Rae’s story. In visiting Montreal Island, he would only have had to cross Simpson Strait to find any records left at the famous cairn. But everyone had agreed: the boats carried by the Anderson expedition were incapable of crossing Simpson Strait during that time of the year. Anderson was in the area, but he was unable to reach King William Island even if he had wanted to.

  But who else did that leave? No searchers, perhaps, but one obvious suspect remains: John Rae.

  Rae had not been in the area searching for Franklin, at least not originally. After wintering at Repulse Bay, Rae had travelled along the coast of the Gulf of Boothia to Pelly Bay, where he met with such strange resistance from the Inuit (and where his interpreter tried to run away). According to Rae, after this, while continuing westward, he encountered In-nook-poo-zhee-jook, the Inuk with the naval cap-band. In-nook-poo-zhee-jook told Rae only that some forty men had died near a river to the west, but the Inuk had not revealed specifically where this place was. It was not until Rae returned to Repulse Bay later in the year that he learned from the Inuit that the place was the Great Fish River and King William Island. By that point, it was too late to go back, so Rae opted instead to set out for home, to deliver word of his find to England. In Rae’s words, “I therefore considered it my imperative duty to put the Admiralty in possession as soon as possible of the information.”5 This then was the story told by Rae.

  In England, Rae’s tale provoked an uproar. As Roderic Owen said, “Too many things smelled too strongly of fish.”6 Rae was the man who travelled like the natives, living off the land, sleeping in igloos. During his first expedition back in 1846, Rae had spent the winter at Repulse Bay without the benefit of a ship or provisions, with only the food that he had caught by dint of his own hunting expertise. True, his accomplishments seemed nothing short of miraculous compared to the efforts of the Royal Navy, but he did it just the same. Apparently travel through the Arctic wasn’t the trial for Rae that it was for other men. Why then had he returned to England without checking out the stories first?

  And cannibalism? Surely he could have seen those kettles for himself before promulgating such damaging accusations. Wrote Peter Newman in Rae’s defence, “One problem was that in his anxiety to document the evidence of the Franklin explorers’ demise, Rae did not simultaneously stress the reasons why he had decided against going back north to validate the find.”7 Rae’s explanation was that he hadn’t known where to look until returning to Repulse Bay, by which point, he was in much the same situation as Anderson would be the next year: facing half-melted waterways with inadequate boats. It was a perfectly reasonable excuse; Rae was an experienced Arctic traveller, not a miracle worker. Even he couldn’t have returned to the Great Fish River so late in the season.

  On the other hand, Rae couldn’t escape the uncomfortable fact that he had already been there earlier in the year. Following his meeting with In-nook-poo-zhee-jook, Rae resumed his explorations as if nothing at all had happened. By his own admission, he crossed the Isthmus of Boothia to the mouth of the Castor and Pollux Ri
ver squeezed tightly between Boothia and the Great Fish River. This was where Dease and Simpson’s explorations had ended and so where Rae’s were to begin. From there, he traced the west coast of Boothia northward, proving that King William Island was separated by a strait and also demonstrating conclusively that there was no water passage through Boothia. To his critics back home, this was just too close for comfort. The ever harsh Dr. King fumed, “That he should have stood on the shore of the Castor and Pollux River, his right eye directed to Point Ogle and his left to Montreal Island knowing that the fate of the Franklin expedition was to be read there.”8 But Rae hadn’t known; that was precisely his point.

  But if he had known . . .

  IF RAE HAD KNOWN

  Therein lies the crux of the issue. Was Rae telling the truth? He claimed In-nook-poo-zhee-jook “had never been there, that he didn’t know the place and could not go so far.”9 Yet, by the time Rae had returned to Repulse Bay, it seemed everyone in the Arctic knew where the dead men were to be found, including many Inuit formerly encountered at Pelly Bay. Why should In-nook-poo-zhee-jook have been the only one still in the dark? It was possible that In-nook-poo-zhee-jook, like the Pelly Bay Inuit, was trying to keep Rae from finding the place. On the other hand, Roderic Owen noted that In-nook-poo-zhee-jook “chased after Rae in order to unfold his tale.”10 Would the Inuk have done so if he were anxious to keep the whole thing a secret?

  But is there any reason for thinking Rae might have lied? Dr. King certainly thought so. According to King: “The means by which Dr Rae became possessed of the relics of the Franklin expedition will ever be a matter of doubt in my mind.”11 Not only was this an accusation fraught with unpleasant implications, it was libellous. Was King suggesting perhaps that Rae had not obtained the relics from the Inuit, as he claimed? But, if not from the Inuit, how? Obviously there was only one other way: Rae must have visited the place himself, but for some reason refused to admit it.

  Why should he refuse to admit it?

  If we consider our scenario, a clear picture emerges. We hypothesize: Rae encountered In-nook-poo-zhee-jook and learned of the dead men to be found near the Great Fish River and King William Island. He set out to investigate his discovery, innocent of any purpose other than to find the lost explorers as so many others had tried and failed to do. Upon reaching the Great Fish River, perhaps he discovered relics scattered about, perhaps not. Either way, he then decided to investigate King William Island to the north, easily crossing Simpson Strait, which at that time of the year was still frozen. Perhaps here he discovered more relics. But he too was well aware of Simpson’s famous cairn at Cape Herschel and, like McClintock, Rae could have guessed that that was the place to look for any records left by the expedition. He went straight to Cape Herschel and saw that the cairn had indeed been disturbed within the past few years. Eagerly he tore down the south side of the cairn. Inside he found records, books, something. Still, up until this point, Rae had no aim in mind other than to discover the fate of Franklin’s lost crew. But then he began to read.

  Quickly he understood what it was he had discovered. And he understood the extreme importance the Admiralty would attach to the recovery of the documents he had found. Rae travelled with six other men; he swore them all to secrecy. His story of receiving relics and information on his return to Repulse Bay was no doubt true. After that, he sent his report to the Admiralty while he followed across the ocean.

  But why should Rae have lied? Why should he, who had nothing but disdain for the navy, have helped them in their conspiracy?

  THE MOTIVE

  There was one obvious motive: greed.

  From the start, Rae’s detractors felt he was far too eager to profit by his discovery. They claimed the reason he hadn’t bothered to check out the Inuit stories was because he had been anxious to return home to collect the 10,000 pound reward outstanding for “any Party who shall by virtue of his efforts first succeed in ascertaining” the fate of the lost crews.12 Rae insisted that he hadn’t known about the reward. Historian Peter Newman commented, “Rae quite rightly pointed out that he could have known nothing of such a reward while isolated in Repulse Bay.”13 On the other hand, Pierre Berton remarked, “This is hard to swallow.”14 The original reward of 20,000 pounds for succouring Franklin’s crew had been announced in 1848. The second reward had been posted in 1850. “Rae had spent an entire year in England, “ continued Berton, “from the spring of 1852 to the spring of 1853, at a time when Franklin fever was at its height. . . . He visited the Admiralty and pointed out on a map what he considered to be the likeliest spot (southward and westward of Cape Walker) for discovering Franklin’s fate. . . . it passes all comprehension that he didn’t know that whoever found the first Franklin relics would be rich for life.”15

  In other words, John Rae lied.

  The Admiralty decision to award Rae the 10,000 pounds (8,000 pounds for Rae, 2,000 pounds for his men) was itself a puzzle to many at the time, none more so than Lady Franklin who vehemently fought the decision. The reward hadn’t been posted for the discovery of relics; it was to be granted to anyone “ascertaining” the fate of Franklin’s expedition. Certainly Rae had done that — if you believed the second-hand accounts of the Inuit. But when before had the Admiralty ever taken the word of the Inuit? The Inuit of Boothia had told James Clark Ross that Boothia was a peninsula; the Admiralty refused to believe it. And then there was Adam Beck’s story gleaned from the natives of Greenland. At worst, it was a total fabrication, according to the navy. At best, a mistake.

  Noel Wright, in his book Quest for Franklin, counted at least five Inuit stories which had been heard one way or another prior to McClintock’s voyage. None of them had come to anything. Why should the Admiralty have suddenly decided to take Rae’s second-hand stories as proof?

  And then there was the cannibalism question. The Admiralty couldn’t accept Rae’s Inuit testimony as final proof without also accepting his story of cannibalism among some of the most famous names in the navy’s history. Indeed, the Admiralty seemed in a remarkable hurry to do so, rushing Rae’s grisly report into print while the explorer himself was still on his way to England. At the very least, one might have thought the Admiralty would have wished to speak with Rae in person before handing his report to The Times. Of course, if we assume the Admiralty was indeed eager to spread the cannibalism story for precisely the reason that they knew it to be false, we are left to wonder: what secret could possibly justify such a ghastly and damaging lie?

  Perhaps final evidence of Rae’s covert visit to King William Island may be discerned in his altered plans for exploring the final link in the Northwest Passage. Rae had intended to trace the west coast of Boothia, starting from the Castor and Pollux River and working his way up to Bellot Strait. He was then to trace Bellot Strait to Prince Regent Inlet, after which he would have returned to his home base at Repulse Bay. In the end, he actually completed only a very small portion of this exploration, mapping the Boothia coast from the Castor and Pollux River to Cape Porter, located on the latitude that crossed the middle of King William Island. At Cape Porter, Rae claimed he abandoned the rest of his plans because of a storm. Leslie Neatby wrote, “Perhaps doubting the wisdom of his decision, Rae did not attempt to reach Bellot Strait.”16 It is hard to imagine John Rae, the man who lived like the natives, abandoning the completion of the Northwest Passage because of one storm. On the other hand, it doesn’t take much to see that, if Rae had learned of the lost expedition’s whereabouts from In-nook-poo-zhee-jook, he would have certainly travelled due west to Cape Porter then mapped the Boothia coast down to the Castor and Pollux River, which was on his way anyhow, before proceeding to King William Island and Simpson’s cairn [see map 23]. By the time he had completed his search of the area, it would have been too late in the year for him to resume his explorations of Bellot Strait, and so he was forced to return to Repulse Bay with his explorations only partly complete.

  Map 23

  John Rae’s secret vi
sit to Simpson’s Cairn?

  INNOCENT OR GUILTY?

  Was the 8,000 pounds Rae received really enough to warrant this accusation? Was Rae the one who opened Simpson’s cairn and stole whatever had been deposited there? Did he make up the story about cannibalism or did he really believe, based perhaps on evidence he himself had seen, that Franklin’s officers had devoured their comrades before they died? Answers to any of these questions must be, of course, conjectural.

  As for Simpson’s cairn, there can be little doubt that something was left at Cape Herschel and that someone looted it before McClintock’s arrival. John Rae had the means and the opportunity.

  As for the motive — the reward money — Peter Newman wrote, “Halfway through his life and at the top of his form, John Rae uncharacteristically opted for retirement. Whether this was the result of physical exhaustion from his adventures or was simply a planned, gradual retreat is a matter of conjecture.”17 The same year as he received his payment in full, at the age of forty-three, the Tarzan of the Barren Grounds decided he was finished with exploration and trekking through the howling wilds, and promptly retired from the service of the Honourable Company of Adventurers to which he had given his life. In Newman’s words, Rae “spent the last four decades of his life in self-satisfied hibernation, dividing his time between London and his shooting grounds at Westhill in the Orkneys.”18