The Franklin Conspiracy Page 7

  WHAT ABOUT CAPE WALKER?

  On reaching the northwest corner of Somerset Island, James Clark Ross could see across the wide entrance of Peel Sound all the way to Cape Walker. Of course, Ross still thought he was looking across a wide bay at this point. Yet again, his actions remain puzzling. Cape Walker was possibly the most important place to search for a message left by Franklin, since it had been specifically mentioned in his sailing orders. He was to reach Cape Walker then steer southwest by whatever passages he could find. Surely he would have left a note there.

  Yet, incredibly, Ross decided not to cross the ice to Cape Walker. Instead, he turned south and began following the west coast of Somerset along the edge of Peel Sound (which now revealed itself to be a sound rather than a bay). Finally, “having consumed more than half our provisions, and the strength of the party being much reduced” (not surprising, considering the use of man-hauled sledges), Ross returned to the ships having accomplished almost nothing.12 The party dispatched by Captain Bird to the cache at Fury Beach had likewise encountered no sign of the missing expedition. Ross’ entire party was ravaged by the rigors of their journey, all being put on the sick list except McClintock who, like Ross, was not required to actually pull the sledge.

  JAMES CLARK ROSS’ CONCLUSIONS

  Ross now came to two startling conclusions concerning the lost expedition—conclusions that would do incalculable damage to later searches. First, having found Peel Sound to be completely frozen over, he concluded Franklin could never have passed south that way. As Pierre Berton commented, “Astonishingly, in spite of all his Arctic experience, Ross didn’t appear to realize that a channel could be frozen one year, open the next.”13

  Ross’ second and even more damaging conclusion was that “It is hardly possible they [the lost expedition] can be anywhere to the eastward of Melville Island or within 300 miles of Leopold Island [where Ross spent the winter] for if that were the case they would . . . have made their way to that point with the hope of receiving assistance from whale-ships.”14 In other words, Ross was voicing the same opinion which others had held: Franklin, if trapped in the ice southwest of Cape Walker, would try to reach the east coast of Somerset and hitch a ride with the whalers of Barrow Strait. The fact that there had been no sign of Franklin at Fury Beach proved Franklin could not be southwest of Cape Walker. But, if Ross was so convinced of this, why had he waited the entire winter before dispatching someone to check the cache at Fury Beach, where Franklin would have gone?

  Ross concluded that Franklin, unable to follow his orders to travel southwest past Cape Walker, had then taken the secondary route by going north up Wellington Channel, as his orders permitted. It was not an entirely unreasonable hypothesis. In fact, ironically enough, Ross was right. Evidence would soon indicate that Franklin had indeed been unable to pass Cape Walker during his first winter and so had travelled up Wellington Channel, before returning for a second try. But, on the basis of the evidence then available to him, Ross had no right to make such a sweeping conclusion.

  Even ignoring the possibility that Peel Sound might not be forever frozen, Ross had not bothered to visit Cape Walker where a message might have been left. More importantly, Ross did not even attempt to search to the southwest of Cape Walker where Franklin was ordered to go. If he had, he would have discovered another channel there. Instead, he concluded Franklin could not be southwest of Cape Walker purely on the basis of indirect (and negative) evidence. It did not seem to cross his mind that Franklin’s expedition might have perished before they could reach Fury Beach.

  We cannot overestimate the damage caused by Ross’ conclusions. It was on the basis of his views that the entire search to be conducted by the Admiralty abandoned the area where Franklin had been ordered to go, and instead concentrated all its efforts on Wellington Channel and areas west of Melville Island. We cannot help but wonder if this was the whole purpose of James Clark Ross’ expedition—to misdirect any future searches.

  KEYSTONE COPS

  On August 28, the crew managed to saw a channel through the ice and the two ships left Port Leopold. But very quickly they found themselves stuck in the ice of Barrow Strait and Ross feared they would be forced to spend a second winter in the Arctic (a strange fear given that he had been expected to spend three winters there). But, amazingly, the ice steadily carried the ships back out of Lancaster Sound into Baffin Bay, then southward along the coast of Baffin Island, before finally breaking up and allowing them to return to England.

  Ironically, even as James Clark Ross’ expedition was being carried down the west side of Baffin Bay, another ship was similarly trapped in the ice on the opposite side of the bay along the coast of Greenland. This ship was the North Star, an “old sailing-donkey of a frigate” sent out by the Admiralty and loaded with provisions for Ross’ expedition precisely to prevent him from returning home after only a single winter.15 While it was the Admiralty’s decision to dispatch the North Star upon the advice of the Arctic Council, it doesn’t take much to see Jane Franklin’s influence at work.

  If the Admiralty had hoped to sweep the Franklin expedition under a rug, it did not reckon with Sir John’s wife. We can imagine how she reacted when she learned of James Clark Ross’ letter from Upernavik, Greenland, in which he stated his intention to send the sister ship, Investigator, home should he have to spend even a second winter in the North. We must remember that Franklin’s expedition was believed to have provisions for only three winters. In a pinch he could have stretched this out to four winters, the same amount of time as John Ross’ record-setting stay in the Arctic. James Clark Ross’ first winter was Franklin’s fourth. If Ross returned to England, yet one more winter must pass (Franklin’s fifth!) before another expedition could be dispatched. So, while other expeditions might be sent to discover Franklin’s fate, James Clark Ross alone stood any chance of actually rescuing the lost expedition while they were still alive. Later would certainly be too late.

  Jane Franklin undoubtedly realized this, and she may have had her own suspicions regarding the Admiralty’s sincerity in searching for her husband. She was not about to wait dutifully for James Clark Ross to return. Contacting the ambassador of the Imperial Russian government in London, she secured a promise that Russia would send out search parties from the Asiatic side of the Arctic. Then she wrote to the President of the United States. After describing the steps taken by the British to find the lost expedition, she wrote, “I have entered into these details with the view of proving that, though the British government has not forgotten the duty it owes to the brave men whom it has sent on a perilous service, and has spent a very large sum in providing the means for their rescue, yet that, owing to various causes, the means in operation for this purpose are quite inadequate to meet the extreme exigence of the case.”16 Was she suspicious? Probably no more so than anyone might be when faced with obvious bureaucratic bungling and indifference.

  But now, with both Russia and the United States taking an interest in Franklin’s fate, the Admiralty had little choice but to make at least a token effort to prolong Ross’ search in the Arctic. And so the North Star was sent on May 15, 1849.

  Perhaps we should not be too surprised by what happened next. Not only did the North Star fail to catch up with Ross, it failed even to reach Lancaster Sound—something that only one other search vessel did (or didn’t do) during all the years of later searching. On September 25th, Ross was freed from the ice and immediately set sail back to England. Four days later, far to the north, the North Star put into winter quarters on the coast of Greenland. The Keystone Cops could not have done it better.

  Adding to the sense of farce, the Admiralty had announced a second reward of 10,000 pounds, this one to any ship which might discover evidence of Franklin’s fate. But, typically, the reward was announced after all the whalers had set out from England, so no one actually knew about it. Thus, as the long dark winter drew closer—Franklin’s fifth—not one ship remained to look for him in all the vast ea
stern Arctic. The Admiralty could not have done a worse job of finding the lost expedition if it had tried.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Turning of Captain Forsyth

  Out flew the web and floated wide;

  The mirror crack’d from side to side;

  “The curse has come upon me,” cried

  The Lady of Shalott.

  Alfred, Lord Tennyson,

  The Lady of Shalott

  TOO CONTEMPTIBLE TO INVITE CRITICISM

  That winter, Jane Franklin again wrote to the American President: “A period has now, alas, arrived when our dearest hopes as to the safe return of the discovery ships this autumn are finally crushed by the unexpected, though forced return of Sir James Ross.”1

  It was a cry from the heart. She had allowed James Clark Ross to guide her in her decisions; she had listened to him against the advice of his uncle, John Ross; she had believed that, if any man would find her husband, it was he. His betrayal must have devastated her.

  But others were considerably less contained in their criticisms. We have already read of John Ross’ accusation that Prince Regent Inlet was still open the day his nephew put into winter quarters. Even more vehement were the opinions of Dr. Richard King. Dr. King had travelled with George Back on a historic journey up the Great Fish River (later called Back’s River), which had led them to the top of the Canadian mainland just below King William Island (undiscovered at that point). Dr. King had long been an opponent of sea voyages in search of the Northwest Passage, arguing that the job could have been done much more safely by a handful of men travelling overland. It was also his belief that, no matter where Franklin might be stuck in the ice, the best way to reach the expedition would be by the Great Fish River. If this latter suggestion had been followed, the expedition would have been found. But Dr. King, despite his experience, was in the same boat as John Ross—he was outside the charmed circle of the Arctic Council and no one listened to him.

  Still, that didn’t stop him from expressing his opinions in no uncertain terms. Of James Clark Ross’ expedition he snarled, “By an extraordinary amount of delay, hitherto unaccounted for, he lost the chances offered by his first season, and in his second season his puny efforts . . . are too contemptible to invite criticism.”2 Echoing John Ross’ cries in the wilderness, King baldly stated that James Clark Ross “can have no intention of searching for Sir John Franklin.”

  JANE FRANKLIN’S WILLIAM PENNY?

  In spite of such harsh criticism, the ball game seemed to be over. Franklin, wherever he was, was almost certainly dead. What point was there in continuing the search? The Admiralty must have heaved a sigh of relief. But, again, they had not anticipated the perseverance of Jane Franklin.

  No sooner was James Clark Ross back in England than Jane Franklin set to work. Having been so thoroughly betrayed by those she had thought she could trust, she now sought help outside the navy and her former advisors. She approached a whaling captain named William Penny—a man of impeccable credentials, a colourful old salt, respected by one and all. He agreed to search for her husband, refusing even to accept payment. Lady Franklin planned to pay for the expedition using her own finances. Whether the Admiralty liked it or not, she was going to find her husband. The navy did the only thing it could: it made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. The Admiralty agreed to pay for the expedition and to allow the use of two of its ships. Jane Franklin foolishly—though understandably—accepted. After all, she wasn’t made of money. But now her independent expedition was effectively under the control of the same people who had betrayed her before. It was only through her strenuous efforts that she was able to ensure that Captain Penny remained in command.

  Finally, Lady Franklin’s American correspondence bore fruit. Henry Grinnell, a wealthy New York merchant, agreed to outfit two vessels to enter the Arctic in search of Franklin. John Ross too, no doubt feeling grimly vindicated, was chaffing at the bit. He had refused retirement back before James Clark Ross’ expedition in the hopes that he might be sent out to rescue Franklin. Now he persistently hounded the Admiralty, fighting for a command, always insisting he believed Franklin to be beset around Melville Island. In the end, rebuked at every turn, he had no choice but to again outfit a private expedition, funded by public subscription and the Hudson’s Bay Company. From the Admiralty’s point of view, it was rapidly losing control of the situation. It responded with its guns blazing.

  Along with Captain Penny’s expedition, it now proposed to refit the two ships used by James Clark Ross, sending them to the Pacific Ocean to enter the Arctic from the opposite side (which it had already done with the Plover— from which no word had yet been received). Then, in a spectacular feat of one-upmanship, it agreed to dispatch an expedition of no less than four ships, under the command of Captain Austin, all to enter the Arctic from the east. To an outside observer, everything that could be done was being done.

  JANE FRANKLIN TRIES AGAIN

  But Jane Franklin was not so certain.

  Having foolishly allowed herself to lose control of Penny’s expedition, she now set out to organize another private voyage. This time, the Admiralty would not take it away from her. To command the voyage she secured the services of a friend from her days in Van Diemen’s Land, Commander Charles Codrington Forsyth. He was, of course, in the service of the Royal Navy, so we may wonder what made her think she could trust him after her previous experiences. But she may have felt she knew him well enough. On the other hand, the fact that she chose as his second-in-command a civilian named Parker Snow, may indicate that she was not entirely comfortable even with Captain Forsyth.

  The purpose of the expedition was ostensibly to act as an aid to the government ships. But, in actual fact, it had a far more telling goal—made clear in the prospectus used to encourage public funds. It was to travel to Prince Regent Inlet and search Somerset Island (and Fury Beach) for signs of the lost expedition. Here we may see some indication of her true suspicions regarding her former advisor, James Clark Ross. She was sending her own ship to go over exactly the same ground as Ross had covered only two years before. Ross can hardly have been pleased.

  The need for a search of this area arose because of the behaviour of the other searchers. Now that the Navy controlled Penny, it ordered him to ignore Lancaster Sound altogether and instead explore Jones Sound, located farther north up Baffin Bay. As a location for finding the lost expedition, Jones Sound was a very long shot indeed. By sending Penny there, the Admiralty might as well have told him to stay home. (The Americans were headed for Smith Sound at the northernmost top of Baffin Bay—an even more unlikely spot.)

  As for the impressive group of four ships under Captain Austin, their orders were based entirely on the opinion of James Clark Ross: search Wellington Channel and Melville Island, as Franklin could not have gotten southwest of Cape Walker. With John Ross still insisting he believed Franklin had “put into” the ice off Melville Island, it was painfully clear to Jane Franklin that a vast section of the Arctic had been simply written off—the section where Franklin had been ordered to go.

  In public, her reasons for searching this area were entirely sensible (although they sidestepped the thorny question of James Clark Ross having already been there). It was the same argument as had been advanced time and time again: if Franklin became stuck southwest of Cape Walker, he would try to reach Somerset because of the cache at Fury Beach and because it was his only hope of meeting with whalers. Jane Franklin also noted that her husband had carried a map with him that clearly showed a strait connecting the southern part of Prince Regent Inlet to the water on the west side of Boothia-Somerset. In actual fact, there was no strait because Boothia was really a peninsula, a fact that James Clark Ross had discovered from the Inuit during his visit there on his uncle’s expedition. Many people, however, continued to doubt Ross’ claim, as they doubted all evidence obtained from the Inuit. Franklin, though, had written his wife a letter in which he explicitly accepted Ross’ findings. Still,
there was always the possibility he might have changed his mind—particularly if faced with imminent starvation.

  This was her public explanation for insisting on a search of this area. She could hardly have admitted her true reason.

  FORSYTH’S SECOND THOUGHTS

  It was at this point that Captain Coppin, having learned of Jane Franklin’s privately outfitted expedition, first approached Lady Franklin with his incredible story of the ghostly Weasy seen by his daughter Anne. He seemed so certain of the truth of his daughter’s vision, one might have been excused for thinking he had seen the apparition himself.

  He set it out for Lady Franklin in no uncertain terms: Prince Regent Inlet, Victory Point. This was where Franklin would be found, he told her: his daughter’s ghost had said so.

  Did it occur to Jane Franklin that the captain’s certainty might be caused by something other than a belief in visitations; that perhaps the whole thing was a clever means of revealing inside information without appearing to do so? It was certainly odd that Captain Coppin should have chosen to reveal his story to a private expedition, rather than one of the government ones. But then, by this point Jane Franklin had her own doubts about the Admiralty’s sincerity. If she had any doubts about the reality of Captain Coppin’s story, she kept them to herself.

  She went to Captain Forsyth and told him all about the amazing vision. Prince Regent Inlet, she said. Victory Point. The captain’s reaction was strange. When she first related the astonishing story, the captain was “much impressed” and she thought he was a believer. But then, the next day, inexplicably he had changed his mind, poohpoohing the story as “more surprising than sensible”.3 What had served to change his mind over the course of twenty-four hours? Was this merely the result of sober second thoughts or were there darker influences at work? Based on Captain Forsyth’s later actions, there is reason to believe that he, if not originally a party to the conspiracy, eventually became one. Is it possible Captain Forsyth already knew about Victory Point and—taken by surprise by how cleanly Jane Franklin’s strange story seemed to hit the nail on the head—he reacted without thinking, revealing his amazement at her knowledge? Then, the next day, perhaps after consulting with his superiors, had he tried to repair the damage?