The Franklin Conspiracy Read online

  In the end, based on the bodies discovered along the west and south shores of King William Island and at Starvation Cove, a clear vision of that final march emerged. The doomed crewmen had followed the coast down to the south shore, then eastward as far as the Todd Islets before using the islets as a jumping-off place to cross Simpson Strait to the long thrust of Richardson Point on the mainland. Then the men moved south down Richardson Point, ending up at Starvation Cove where most of them died. As for the boat and five bodies reported on Montreal Island, both Hall and Schwatka thought that story had arisen through confusion with the bodies at Starvation Cove further west. Alternatively, it was possible a final party had pushed on to Montreal Island still intent on ascending the Great Fish River, where they perished all the same.

  WHERE DID THEY CROSS?

  This scenario raises a troubling question. In making the long trek to the Todd Islets, the crewmen had to pass along a length of shore around Eta Island where the gap separating King William Island from the mainland was very narrow, a mere two miles. Chief trader William Gibson felt that Crozier must have been “topographically confused” to have passed this point without making the crossing.2 It would have been no effort at all to have crossed over along this area of coast, yet instead the crewmen continued steadily eastward, while the mainland gradually grew farther and farther away, fading into the distance. In the end, they chose to make their crossing forty miles farther on, at a place where even the tip of Richardson Point was no more than a dot on the horizon. Their decision makes no sense.

  Even more strange, to reach Richardson Point from the Todd Islets, the crewmen had to travel in a diagonal southwest across Simpson Strait, going back to the west once again. Finally, to reach Starvation Cove, the crewmen must have travelled down the west coast of the Richardson Point peninsula. Why would they have done so when they were headed for the Great Fish River to the east of the peninsula?

  To add to the mystery, in August 1936, D.G. Sturrock and L.A. Learmouth — the Hudson’s Bay Company post manager at Gjoa Haven, a settlement eventually founded on the southeast corner of King William Island — discovered the remains of three skeletons, a George IV half-crown, and an antique sailor’s button at Thunder Cove fifteen miles to the west of Starvation Cove. But why would the crewmen have travelled west from Starvation Cove? It made no sense — unless, of course, we assume the retreating crewmen really did cross to the mainland at the narrowing of Simpson Strait near Eta Island. In this case, they reached Starvation Cove while travelling eastward along the mainland headed for the Great Fish River, rather than by way of Richardson Point. But what about all the other bodies scattered along the south shore of King William Island between Eta Island and the Todd Islets?

  For the answer, we must return to the Victory Point record.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The Victory Point Record Explained

  He thought he saw a Rattlesnake

  That questioned him in Greek,

  He looked again and found it was

  The Middle of Next Week.

  “The one thing I regret,” he said,

  “Is that it cannot speak!”

  Lewis Carroll,

  Sylvie and Bruno

  THE FIRST MESSAGE

  In the midst of the cluttered maelstrom of the Franklin mystery, the Victory Point record serves as a focal point around which all other questions circulate. It was the only message ever discovered whose purpose was to provide later searchers with the information they sought. For that reason, it is all the more remarkable that the record has so thoroughly defied interpretation.

  The first message, written either on or before May 28th, 1847, seemed simple and to the point. Its purpose was merely to report the progress made thus far in the expedition. So it did. The Erebus and Terror had wintered at Beechey Island after ascending Wellington Channel and returning down the opposite side of Cornwallis Island. After that, the two ships reached King William Island, where they became beset in the ice. Sir John Franklin was still in charge of the expedition. All was well.

  But then a postscript was added. A party of two officers and six men had left the ships on the 24th of May. This is all we are told of that party. Why they left the ships, the record doesn’t say. At the bottom of the page, Lieutenant Graham Gore and Lieutenant Des Voeux signed their names.

  This entire 1847 message was found duplicated on a second record discovered by Hobson at Gore Point, with one exception: the date at the top read only May 1847 — the 28 was missing.

  Immediately a question arises. Why didn’t Franklin sign the record on the space provided for his signature? Historian David C. Woodman noted, “Sir John was known to have signed a similar form which had been tossed overboard on 30 June 1845 (and which was later recovered on the coast of Greenland), and presumably he would normally have signed these documents as well. But he did not.”1 The explanation favoured by historians was that Franklin was even then ill with whatever sickness would take his life in two weeks time. It is certainly plausible, but Franklin would have had to be very sick indeed to be unable to sign his own name.

  As well, there was some question regarding the dates. It was presumed the May 28th date at the top of the record referred to the date upon which the paper was placed or was expected to be placed in the cairn on King William Island, rather than the date upon which it was first filled out. But why should it have taken Lieutenant Gore four days (24th to 28th) to travel from the ships to King William Island? Even taking into account hummocky ice, four days was a remarkable delay for such a short trip.

  THE SECOND MESSAGE

  And then there was the second message. Written one year later, it told an entirely different story, while simultaneously shedding some light on the first message. The ships, we are now told, had been beset since September 12th, 1846. On April 22, 1848, the ships were deserted and the remaining crew of 105 reached the shore near Victory Point. (The actual landing place, now called Crozier’s Landing, was actually a couple of miles south of Victory Point.)

  The second message refers to Gore as the “late Commander Gore”, indicating not only that Gore had died sometime after the original message was left, but that he had been promoted, since he had left England a lieutenant. Once again, historians have been puzzled. Gore promoted? It has generally been agreed that Franklin might have had the authority to promote Gore, but only under very exceptional circumstances. Promotions were the prerogative of the Admiralty and were supposed to be left until the expedition returned home. What could possibly have justified this unusual action?

  The most likely explanation, under the circumstances, is that it was already known Gore wasn’t going to live long enough to be promoted in England. If Gore had done something exceptional to warrant a promotion, we could easily imagine Franklin deciding to take the unusual step of promoting his officer before Gore’s death. But what could Gore have done to warrant such an honour? An act of extreme courage and heroism, surely. Perhaps this heroic act had itself led to his death. In fact, we might wonder if this act and Gore’s death were in some way connected to the expedition which he led from the ships.

  There may even be evidence for this theory.

  In recording when Gore had placed the record in the cairn at Victory Point, Fitzjames initially wrote “May”, then crossed it out and wrote “June”. Obviously he wasn’t certain. This might suggest that when Gore had returned to the ships, he had been in no condition to give an account of his journey and had died soon afterward.

  But now there was another problem with the dates. The ships were deserted on April 22nd. According to the addition under Crozier’s signature(“and start on tomorrow 26th for Back’s Fish River”(tomorrow was the 26th. That meant the second message was written on April the 25th (and, though the date was torn away, historians routinely report it as complete). Why had it taken the crewmen three days to cross the ice to shore? It was the same problem encountered in the first message. Four days for the 1847 party to reach Victory Point,
now three days to travel to essentially the same place. It made no sense. During his visit in 1830, James Clark Ross had walked all the way from Cape Felix to Victory Point in only four hours.

  A SURVEY PARTY?

  Again, we notice that the first message was written in two parts. The first, detailing the expedition’s travels up Wellington Channel and back, ended with the “All well” and the confirmation that Franklin was still in command. Clearly, this was supposed to be the whole of the record. But then, the information about a party of two officers and six men leaving the ships was added, suggesting this party’s departure was abrupt and unexpected. Why? More importantly, why did Fitzjames feel it was necessary to report this party’s leave-taking? It has long been assumed that this was a survey party, perhaps dispatched to Cape Herschel to locate the final link in the Northwest Passage. But surely many such survey parties would have been sent out. When this party returned to the ships in a few days or weeks, the message would become obsolete. What was so special about this party that Fitzjames felt it was necessary to report their absence from the ships?

  Is it possible Fitzjames decided to mention the absent party because, even at that time, he had reason to think the rest of the expedition was in danger? If he thought there was some possibility the ships and their crews might soon meet with disaster, he would have decided to leave a message to tell searchers that eight men were still out there, somewhere. Which raises yet another question. Why was the record not recovered when the party returned to the ships? One year later, the second message clearly relates how Lieutenant Irving had retrieved the record from the cairn where Gore had placed it the year before. Yet, once the party was back aboard the ships, the message became obsolete and misleading. Why was it allowed to remain on King William Island? One possible answer is: those eight men never returned to the ships.

  But if the party reported in the 1847 message never returned, what happened to them?

  ABRUPT ABANDONMENT

  Perhaps it is time to reconsider our basic assumptions. The first message leaves far too many unanswered questions. Clearly we are missing a crucial piece to the puzzle. That piece may be this: what happens if we assume Fitzjames was not aboard his ship when he wrote the message? Instead, we may picture Fitzjames as stationed at the encampment near Cape Felix that Hobson discovered in 1859.

  Suddenly the entire scenario changes drastically. Franklin did not sign the record because he wasn’t at Cape Felix; he was still aboard his ship frozen in the ice of Victoria Strait. The party that left the ships on May 24th did not leave Fitzjames on that date, but rather arrived at his location after having left the ships. We no longer need to assume a period of four days (May 24th to 28th) to reach Victory Point from the ships; the party could have reached Cape Felix in one day, then set off down the coast a few days later.

  This also would explain why the party’s departure apparently took Fitzjames by surprise, so much so that he could only append the information to the bottom of his record. Having just completed his record describing the expedition’s travels up Wellington Channel, Fitzjames was surprised when a party arrived from the ships, having been dispatched by Franklin. Fitzjames, being isolated at Cape Felix, hadn’t been involved in the decision-making that had led to the party being sent.

  But why didn’t Fitzjames sign the document which he himself had written (as he did sign the 1848 message)? Why did he leave the final signing of the record in the hands of Gore and Des Voeux? Perhaps because the party dispatched from the ships had brought word that Fitzjames was to abandon Cape Felix and return to the ships immediately. Thus, Fitzjames left the two document papers with Gore and Des Voeux, who signed the records sometime before setting off on their journey. Gore deposited the one record at Victory Point and the other at Gore Point.

  After that, something happened to the party. We don’t know what, but Gore at least returned. He was in a bad condition and died soon after, but not before Franklin rewarded him through the unusual step of promoting him. Was Gore rewarded for some special act of heroism which he reported on his return? Perhaps. But, since he apparently was unable to reveal enough of his journey to allow Fitzjames to judge in which month Gore had deposited the record at Victory Point, it seems doubtful he could have been coherent enough to describe his adventures. On the other hand, the alternative is to suggest that there was something so important about the party’s mission that it warranted such a high honour being bestowed.

  The evidence did indeed indicate the hurried abandonment of Cape Felix. Hobson found old clothing, a copper cooking stove, three small tents, a bearskin and blankets, boarding pikes, broken china, pipes, tobacco, matches, some shot, an ensign, and smaller items. What’s more, there is reason to believe that after Fitzjames deserted Cape Felix no one else returned to the King William Island coast until the abandonment of the ships the next year. In Fitzjames’ second message in 1848, he seems almost surprised by the discovery of Gore’s record. He wrote, “[This] paper was found by Lt. Irving under the cairn supposed to have been built by Sir James Ross in 1831.” He does not say the paper was “recovered” but that it was “found”, suggesting the discovery was accidental. Obviously Gore had not been able to tell Fitzjames where the record had been left, but it is equally obvious that no parties had visited the area since the abandonment the year before or they would have found the record earlier.

  Thus we are left with three disturbing conclusions. First, in 1847 a party was hurriedly dispatched from the ships, a party which never returned. Secondly, Fitzjames was then ordered to abandon Cape Felix and return to the ships. And thirdly, for an entire year after this until the desertion of the ships, the expedition refused to venture back to Victory Point.

  What happened to cause this abandonment? All we know for certain is that, one year later, the remaining crew of 105 deserted the ships on April 22nd and reached the coast near Victory Point. Franklin was dead and Crozier now had command. When Lieutenant Irving discovered Gore’s record in a cairn slightly to the north, Fitzjames updated the document along the margins, noting Franklin’s death and the total number of deaths so far. He and Crozier signed the document upside down along the top. Then, belatedly, someone (not Fitzjames) remembered to add the final crucial information: “and start on tomorrow 26th for Back’s Fish River.”

  Beyond that point, the only evidence to be found lay in a trail of bones down the west and south shores of King William Island and the mainland further south. According to the Inuit, five bodies had lain on Montreal Island in the mouth of the Great Fish River. Other bodies had been found at Starvation Cove. The evidence was irrefutable. And yet . . .

  THE GREAT FISH RIVER?

  David Woodman commented, “When the fate of Crozier’s men became known, many ‘experts’, with the advantage of hindsight, found it hard to understand his [Crozier’s] reasoning. John Rae, himself the foremost proponent of living off the land, was sure Franklin’s men could have survived if only they had marched north.”2 George Back, who first explored the Great Fish River with Dr. King, described that river as “most embarrassing to the navigator, and broken into falls, cascades and rapids to the number of no less than eighty three.”3 What could Crozier have thought he was doing to take on such a Herculean journey? Even if by some miracle he had managed to ascend that epic watercourse with his army of 105, what did he hope to find at the other end?

  Fort Reliance on Great Slave Lake.

  Deep in the heart of the Canadian wilderness, this tiny Hudson’s Bay Company trading post (ambitiously called a “fort”) was expected to somehow shelter and feed 105 men? It simply wasn’t possible. By trying to make his escape up the Great Fish River to Fort Reliance, Crozier was acting in a manner which can only be described as senseless, made all the more incomprehensible by the fact that a safer refuge lay close at hand. As Berton remarked, “Ironically, a mountain of stores, not to mention several boats, lay at Fury Beach to the northeast.”4

  Logic pointed to Fury Beach. But the evidence of th
e Victory Point record seemed irrefutable. The men had set off for the Great Fish River. So, what was Crozier thinking?

  THE ANSWER

  Once again, to find an answer to this question, we must alter our assumptions. We must return to the origin, to the Victory Point record itself. The final part of the record reads:

  [This] paper was found by Lt. Irving under the cairn supposed to have been built by Sir James Ross in 1831 – where it had been deposited (four miles to the northward) by the late Commander Gore in [May crossed out] June 1847. Sir James Ross’ pillar has not however been found and the paper has been transferred to this position which is that in which Sir J Ross pillar was erected – Sir John Franklin died on the 11th June 1847 and the total loss by deaths in the Expedition has been to this date 9 officers & 15 men.

  F.R.M. Crozier

  Captain & Senior Offr James Fitzjames HMS

  and start on tomorrow 26th Erebus

  for Back’s Fish River.

  We can’t help but notice something odd about the final addition — “and start on tomorrow 26th for Back’s Fish River”. It is not a real sentence. Surely, in adding this postscript, the writer might have said: “We start on tomorrow” or “Shall start on tomorrow” Instead, the sentence not only begins with the word “and”, but it even starts with a small “a”.