Northward of us, ran, almost in a straight line, east and west, the southern edge of a body of ice, which we then imagined, in our ignorance, to be fixed, extending northward,—aye, to the very pole; for in the rumour of it being a mere fiord, or gulf, I had no belief, nor any one else who crossed it in our ships. The day was beautifully clear, and a cold, hard sky enabled us to see the land of North Somerset most distinctly, though thirty to forty miles distant; and yet nothing appeared resembling land in the northern part of Wellington Channel. More than one of us regretted the prospect of this yet unsearched route remaining so, and the racing mania for Melville Island and Cape Walker bore for all of us this day its fruit—unavailing regret.

A fresh and favourable gale from the northward raised our spirits and hopes, late as it now was in the season, and already, with the adventurous feelings of seamen, we began to calculate what distance might yet be achieved, should the breeze but last for two or three days. The space to be traversed, even to Behring's Straits, was a mere nothing; and all our disappointments, all our foiled anticipations, were forgotten, in the light-heartedness brought about by a day of open water and a few hours of a fair wind. As we rattled along the lane of blue water which wound gracefully ahead to the westward, the shores of Cornwallis Island rapidly revealed themselves, and offered little that was striking or picturesque. One uniform tint of russet-brown clothed the land, as the sun at eight in the evening sunk behind the ice-bound horizon of Wellington Channel.

Novel and striking as were the colours thrown athwart the cold, hard sky by the setting orb, I thought with a sigh of those gay and flickering shades which beautify the heavens in the tropics, when the fierce sun sinks to his western rest. No gleams of purple and gold lit up the hill-tops; no fiery streaks of sunlight streamed across the water, or glittered on the wave. No! all was cold and silent as the grave. In heaven alone there appeared sunshine and vitality:—it was rightly so. Frost was fast claiming its dominion, for, with declining sunlight, the space of water between the pack and the floe became a sheet of young ice, about the one-eighth of an inch in thickness.

[Headnote: CROSSING WELLINGTON CHANNEL.]

The "Assistance" and "Intrepid" were gone, it was very evident; but the American squadron was observed in Barlow Inlet. As we approached them, at two o'clock in the morning, they were to be seen firing muskets. We therefore put our helms down, and performed, by the help of the screw, figures of eight in the young ice, until a boat had communicated with Commander De Haven, from whom we learned that one of his vessels was aground in the inlet, and that it was no place for us to go into, unless we wanted to remain there. The passage to the westward, round Cape Hotham, was likewise blocked up, and no alternative remained but to make fast to the floe to the north of us. This was done, and just in time; for a smart breeze from the S.E. brought up a great deal of ice, and progress in any direction was impossible.

I had now time to observe that the floe of Wellington Channel, instead of consisting of a mass of ice (as was currently reported) about eight feet in thickness, did not in average depth exceed that of the floes of Melville Bay, although a great deal of old ice was mixed up with it, as if a pack had been re-cemented by a winter's frost; in which case, of course, there would be ice of various ages mixed up in the body; and much of the ice was lying crosswise and edgeways, so that a person desirous of looking at the Wellington Channel floe, as the accumulation of many years of continued frost, might have some grounds upon which to base his supposition. A year's observation, however, has shown me the fallacy of supposing that in deep-water channels floes continue to increase in thickness from year to year; and to that subject I will return in a future chapter, when treating of Wellington Channel.

The closing chapter of accidents, by which the navigation of 1850 was brought to a close by the squadrons in search of Sir John Franklin, is soon told.

The "Resolute" and "Pioneer" remained, unable to move, in Wellington Channel; a northerly gale came on, after a short breeze from the S.E.; and imagine, kind reader, our dismay, in finding the vast expanse, over which the eye had in vain strained to see its limit—imagine this field suddenly breaking itself across in all directions, from some unseen cause, farther than (as appeared to us) a northerly gale blowing over its surface, and our poor barks, in its cruel embrace, sweeping out of Wellington Channel, and then towards Leopold Island. At one time, the probability of reaching the Atlantic, as Sir James Ross did, stared us disagreeably in the face, and blank indeed did we all look at such a prospect.

A calm and frosty morning ushered in the 9th of September. The pack was fast re-knitting itself, and we were drifting with it, one mile per hour, to the S.E., when Penny's brigs, that had been seen the day before crossing to the northward of us, were observed to be running down along the western shore, with the American squadron ahead of them, the latter having just escaped from an imprisonment in Barlow Inlet. About the same time, a temporary opening of the pack enabled the steam-power again to be brought to bear, and never was it more useful. The pack was too small and broken for a vessel to warp or heave through, there was no wind "to bore" through it, and the young ice in some places, by pressure, was nigh upon six inches thick; towing with boats was, therefore, out of the question.

The "Resolute" fast astern, with a long scope of hawser, the "Pioneer," like a prize-fighter, settled to her work, and went in and won. The struggle was a hard one,—now through sludge and young ice, which gradually checked her headway, impeded as she was with a huge vessel astern—now in a strip of open water, mending her pace to rush at a bar of broken-up pack, which surged and sailed away as her fine bow forced through it—now cautiously approaching a nip between two heavy floe pieces, which time and the screw wedged slowly apart—and then the subdued cheer with which our crews witnessed all obstacles overcome, and the Naval expedition again in open water, and close ahead of the Government one under Penny, and Commander De Haven's gallant vessels, who, under a press of canvas, were just hauling round Cape Hotham. A light air and bay-ice gave us every advantage.

[Headnote: ALL THE VESSELS MEET.]

Next day, in succession, we all came up to the "Assistance" and "Intrepid," fast at a floe edge, between Cape Bunny and Griffith's Island. That this floe was not a fixed one we were assured, as the "Intrepid" had been between it and Griffith's Island, nearly as far as Somerville Island; but, unhappily, it barred our road as effectually as if it were so. Penny, with his squadron, failed in passing southward towards Cape Walker; and Lieutenant Cator, in the "Intrepid," was equally unsuccessful.

I was much interested in the account of the gallant struggle of the "Assistance" and "Intrepid" in rounding Cape Hotham. They fairly fought their way against the ice, which at every east-going tide was sweeping out of Barrow's Strait, and grinding along the shore. It is most satisfactory to see that all risks may be run, and yet neither ships nor crews be lost; and it is but fair to suppose, that, if our ships incurred such dangers unscathed, the "sweet cherub" will not a jot the less have watched over the "Erebus" and "Terror." Of course, the "croakers" say, if the floe had pressed a little more—if the ship had risen a little less—in fact, if Providence had been a little less watchful—disasters must have overtaken our ships; but when I hear these "dismal Jemmies" croak, it puts me much in mind of the midshipman, who, describing to his grandmamma the attack on Jean d'Acre, after recounting his prowess and narrow escapes, assured the old lady that Tom Tough, the boatswain's mate, had asserted with an oath, which put the fact beyond all doubt, that if one of those shot from the enemy had struck him, he never would have lived to tell the tale.

From my gallant comrade of the "Intrepid," we heard of the search that had been made in Wolstenholme Sound, and along the north shore of Lancaster Sound. In both places numerous traces of Esquimaux had been seen, at Wolstenholme Sound especially. These were numerous and recent, and the "Intrepid's" people were shocked, on entering the huts, to find many dead bodies; the friends, evidently, of our Arctic Highlander, Erasmus York, who, as I before said, had shipped as interpreter on board the "Assistance." In Wolstenholme Sound, the cairns erected by the "North Star" were discovered and visited, and, whilst speaking of her, it will be as well for me to note, that Captain Penny, on his way up Lancaster Sound, met the "North Star" off Admiralty Inlet, August 21st, gave Mr. Saunders his orders from England, and told him of the number of ships sent out to resume the search for Franklin. Captain Penny left Mr. Saunders under an impression that he was going to Disco, to land his provisions.

There was one remarkable piece of information, which I noted at the time, and much wondered at; it was derived from Captain Penny, and the officers of the "Lady Franklin" and "Sophia." It appears they crossed Wellington Channel, about ten miles higher up than we did; the ice breaking away, it will be remembered, and drifting with the "Resolute" and "Pioneer" to the south. From a headland about twelve miles north of Barlow Inlet, Captain Penny observed with astonishment that there was only about ten miles more of ice to the north of his vessels, and then, to use his own words, "Water! water! large water! as far as I could see! to the N.W." How this water came there? what was beyond it? were questions which naturally arose; but it was not until the following year that the mystery was explained, and we learned, what was only then suspected, that we had overshot our mark.

[Headnote: THE COMING ON OF WINTER.]

Sept. 11th, 1850.—The winter of the Arctic Regions came on us, in its natural character of darkness, gale, cold, and snow. First, the wind from the S.E., with a heavy sea, which sent us careering against the floe-edge, and gave all hands a hard night's work to keep the anchors in the firm floe, as the edge rapidly broke up, under the combined effects of sea and shocks from our vessels; then, with a gust or two, which threatened to blow the sticks out of our craft, the wind chopped round to the N.W.; and a falling temperature, which Arctic statistics told us would not, at this season, ever recover itself, said plainly, that winter quarters alone remained for us.

Happily, the "Intrepid" had discovered a harbour between Cape Hotham and Martyr, on the south side of Cornwallis Island. This place, and Union Bay, in Beechey Island, offered two snug positions, from which operations in the spring with travelling parties could be well and effectually carried out. Action, action now alone remained for us; and earnestly did we pray that our leader's judgment might now decide upon such positions being taken up as would secure all directions—viz. to the south-west,—north-west and, lastly, west being provided for.

Sept. 13th.—Found the four vessels of our squadron, and one of the American brigs,—the "Advance" under Lieutenant De Haven,—all safe at the floe-edge. The floe had drifted during the gale considerably towards the shores of North Somerset; and the wedge-shaped island, called Cape Bunny, was distinctly visible: the other of the American brigs had, in the height of the gale, blown adrift and disappeared in the darkness and snow-drift. For her, as well as Her Majesty's brigs under Captain Penny, much anxiety was entertained. The American leader of the expedition, I heard, finding farther progress hopeless, intended, in obedience to his orders, to return to New York. This he was the more justified in doing, as no preparation or equipment for travelling-parties had been made by them, and their fittings for wintering in the Arctic Regions were, compared with ours, very deficient. The gallant Yankees, however, could not return without generously offering us provisions, fuel, and stores; and the officers, with a chivalrous feeling worthy of themselves and the cause for which they had come thus far, offered to remain out or exchange with any of "ours" who wanted to return home. We had no space in stowage to profit by the first offer, nor had enthusiasm yet become sufficiently damped in us to desire to avail ourselves of the proffered exchange; both were declined, and it was said that Lieutenant De Haven was told by our leader, if he could land any thing for us in Radstock Bay as a depot, he might render good service.

Letters were therefore hurriedly closed, letter-bags made up, and pleasant thoughts of those at home served to cheer us, as, with the temperature at about zero, and with a fresh breeze, we cast off together, and worked to the northward, towards Griffith's Island.

[Headnote: THE AMERICAN SQUADRON.]

Rubbing sides almost with the "Advance," who courteously awaited with the "Pioneer" the heavy-heeled gambols of the "Resolute," day was drawing on before the squadron reached Griffith's Island, from the lee of which the missing American schooner was descried to be approaching. Lieutenant De Haven now hoisted his colours for home, and backed his topsail. We did the same; and after a considerable time he bore up with his squadron for New York, doubtless supposing, from no letters being sent, that we had none.

It was far otherwise; and throughout the winter many a growl took place, as a huge pile of undespatched letters would pass before our sight, and blessings of a doubtful nature were showered on our ill luck.

To the ice, which extended unbroken from Griffith's Island to Cape Martyr, we will leave the Naval expedition secured, whilst we briefly recount the most striking points in connection with the American expedition that had now left us on its voyage home.

In 1849, Mr. Henry Grinnell, a merchant of the United States, actuated by the purest philanthropy that ever influenced the heart of man, determined to devote a portion of his well-deserved wealth to the noble purpose of relieving Sir John Franklin, who, it was much to be feared, from the desponding tone of a portion of the English press on Sir James Ross's failure, was likely to be left unsought for in 1850. He therefore, at his sole expense, purchased two vessels, one of 140 tons, the "Advance," the other 90 tons, the "Rescue," and, having strengthened, provisioned, and equipped them, Mr. Grinnell then placed them under the control of his Government, in order that they might be commanded by naval officers and sail under naval discipline. The American Congress passed the necessary acts, and Lieutenant E. De Haven, who had seen service in the Antarctic seas, took command of the "Advance," as the leader of the expedition, and another distinguished officer, Mr. Griffin, hoisted his pendant in the "Rescue." On the 23d May, 1850, the two vessels sailed from New York, touching at Disco, where I am sorry to say they found my worthy friend "Herr Agar" to have died shortly after my visit; they reached the pack of Melville Bay on the 7th July, and, tightly beset until the 23d, they did not reach Cape York until early in August.

The 7th August they reached Cape Dudley Digges! (at that time we were still beset off Cape Walker in Melville Bay), thence they stood to the south-west, until they reached the West Water.

On the 18th August, when we had a thick fog and almost a calm off Possession Bay, the American squadron was in a severe gale in Lancaster Sound; and on the 25th August, after visiting Leopold Island, the gallant Americans reached Cape Riley close on the heels of the "Assistance" and "Intrepid."

From that time we have shown that they lost no opportunity of pushing ahead; and if progress depended alone upon skill and intrepidity, our go-ahead friends would have given us a hard tussle for the laurels to be won in the Arctic regions.

As a proof of the disinterestedness of their motives, men as well as officers, I was charmed to hear that before sailing from America they had signed a bond not to claim, under any circumstances, the L20,000 reward the British Government had offered for Franklin's rescue; we, I am sorry to say, had acted differently. America had plucked a rose from our brows; but in such generous enterprise, we for the most part felt that no narrow-minded national prejudices could enter, and I gloried in the thought that the men who had so nobly borne themselves, as well as he, the princely merchant who had done his best to assist the widow and orphan to recover those for whom they had so long hoped and wept, were men who spoke our language, and came from one parent-stock—a race whose home is on the great waters.

Looking at my rough notes for the following week, I am now puzzled to know what we were hoping for; it must have been a second open season in 1850,—a sanguine disposition, no doubt brought about by a break in the weather, not unlike the Indian summer described by American writers.

[Headnote: GO INTO WINTER QUARTERS.]

September 14th.—I went in the "Pioneer," with some others, to see if the floe had opened a road to the south of Griffith's Island; it had not, nor did it appear likely to do so this season, though there was water seen some fifteen miles or so to the westward.

One day the "Assistance" and "Intrepid" started for Assistance Harbour, to winter there, but came back again, for winter had barred the route to the eastward as well as westward. One day after this, or rather, many days, we amused ourselves, with powder, blowing open a canal astern of the "Resolute," which froze over as quickly as we did it. At other times, some people would go on the top of the island, and see oceans of water, where no ship could possibly get to it, and then others would visit the same spot after a night or two of frost, and, seeing ice where the others had seen water, asserted most confidently that the first were exaggerators!

At any rate, September passed; winter and frost had undoubted dominion over earth and sea; already the slopes of Griffith's Island, and the land north of us, were covered with snow; the water in sight was like a thread, and occasionally disappeared altogether. Fires all day, and candles for long nights, were in general requisition. Some cross-fire in the different messes was taking place as the individuals suffered more or less from the cold. Plethoric ones, who became red-hot with a run up the ladder, exclaimed against fires, and called zero charming weather; the long and lethargic talked of cold draughts and Sir Hugh Willoughby's fate; the testy and whimsical bemoaned the impure ventilation. A fox or two was occasionally seen scenting around the ships, and a fox-hunt enlivened the floe with men and officers, who chased the unlucky brute as if they had all come to Griffith's Island especially for fox-skins; and the last of the feathered tribe, in the shape of a wounded "burgomaster," shivered, half frozen, as it came for its daily food.

October 2d, 1850.—Lieutenant M'Clintock had very properly urged the necessity of sending travelling parties to forward depots of provisions upon the intended routes of the different parties in 1851: these were this morning despatched,—Lieutenant M'Clintock, with Dr. Bradford, carrying out a depot towards Melville Island; Lieutenant Aldrich taking one to Lowther Island, touching at Somerville Island on the way.

Lieutenant Mecham was likewise sent to examine Cornwallis Island, between Assistance Harbour and Cape Martyr, for traces of Franklin.

We, who were left behind, felt not a little anxious about these parties whilst absent, for winter was coming on with giant strides; on the 4th, frost-bites were constantly occurring, and the sun, pale and bleary, afforded more light than warmth. Our preparations for winter were hurried on as expeditiously as possible; and the housing, which, like a tent, formed a complete covering to our upper decks, afforded great comfort and shelter from the cold bleak wind without.

[Headnote: LIEUTENANT MECHAM'S ADVENTURE.]

On the 5th, Lieutenant Aldrich returned from his journey; he had not been able to go beyond Somerville Island—the sea between it and Lowther Island being covered with broken packed ice, half-frozen sludge, and young ice. On the 7th, Lieutenant Mecham arrived with the intelligence that the "Lady Franklin" and "Sophia" were, with the "Felix," safe in Assistance Harbour. Captain Penny, after his failure in reaching Cape Walker, had a narrow escape of being beset on the shores of North Somerset; but by carrying on through the pack, in the gale of the 11th September, he had happily secured his ships in excellent winter quarters.

Lieutenant Mecham had an adventure on his outward route, which had some interesting features: as he was crossing the entrance of a bay, since named Resolute Bay, he observed a bear amongst some hummocks, evidently breaking the young ice by a sort of jumping motion; and he then saw that he and his party had unconsciously left the old ice, and were travelling over bay-ice, which was bending with the weight of the men and sledge. Bruin's sagacity here served the seamen in good stead, and the sledge was expeditiously taken to firmer ice, whilst Mr. M. went in chase of the bear; having mortally wounded it, the brute rushed to seaward, and the sportsman only desisted from the pursuit when he observed the bear fall, and in doing so break through the ice, which was too weak to sustain its weight.

Captain Penny, on the following day, sent over his dog-sledge to secure the flesh for his dogs, by which time the unlucky bear was frozen to a hard and solid mass.

October 9th.—Lieutenant M'Clintock returned; he had placed his depot forty miles in advance, towards Melville Island,—three days' imprisonment by bad weather, in the tents, having foiled his hopes of reaching Bedford Bay in Bathurst Island, where he originally intended to have reached. This party had, likewise, met water to the westward, and there was now but little doubt on our minds, that, had the large field of ice which was blocking the way between Cape Bunny and Griffith's Island broken up or drifted away, our squadron would have reached, in all probability, as far as Parry did in '20; but now, the utmost we could hope to attain in the following year was Melville Island, which would be our goal, instead of our starting point.

Autumn travelling differs, in some measure, from that of the spring. I will, therefore, give the indulgent reader an account of a short excursion I made for the purpose of connecting the search from where Lieutenant Mecham left the coast, to the point at which Lieutenant M'Clintock had again taken it up; in fact, a bay, facetiously christened by the seamen (who had learned that newly-discovered places were forbidden to be named), "Bay, Oh! no we never mention it!" and "Cape No Name."

My kind friend, Mr. May of the "Resolute," volunteered to accompany me, and on Thursday, the 10th of October, we started with our tent, a runner-sledge, and five days' provisions. The four seamen and our two selves tackled to the drag-ropes, and, with the temperature at 6 deg. above zero, soon walked ourselves into a state of warmth and comfort.

[Headnote: RUINS ON CORNWALLIS ISLAND.]

Three hours' sharp dragging brought us to Cape Martyr; ascending the beach until we had reached a ledge of smooth ice which fringed the coast within the broken line of the tide-marks, we turned to the westward, and commenced searching the beach and neighbouring headlands. I shall not easily efface from my memory the melancholy impression left by this, my first walk on the desolate shores of Cornwallis Island. Like other things, in time the mind became accustomed to it; and, by comparison, one soon learned to see beauties even in the sterility of the North.



Casting off from the sledge, I had taken a short stroll by myself along one of the terraces which, with almost artificial regularity, swept around the base of the higher ground behind, when, to my astonishment, a mass of stone-work, and what at first looked exactly like a cairn, came in view; it required no spur to make me hasten to it, and to discover I was mistaken in supposing it to have been any thing constructed so recently as Franklin's visit. The ruin proved to be a conical-shaped building, the apex of which had fallen in. Its circumference, at the base, was about twenty feet, and the height of the remaining wall was five feet six inches. Those who had constructed it appeared well acquainted with the strength of an arched roof to withstand the pressure of the heavy falls of snow of these regions; and much skill and nicety was displayed in the arrangement of the slabs of slaty limestone, in order that the conical form of the building might be preserved throughout.

We removed the stones that had fallen into the building, but found nothing to repay our labour; indeed, from the quantity of moss adhering to the walls, and filling up the interstices of the masses which formed the edifice, I conjectured it was many years since it was constructed, though it would be impossible to guess when it was last inhabited; for, at Pond's Bay, I observed the remains of the native habitations to have the appearance of extreme old age and long abandonment, although, from the fresh seal-blubber caches, there was not a doubt of the Esquimaux having been there the previous winter.

A mile beyond this ruin we halted for the night. Four of us (for, in Arctic travelling, officer and man are united by the common bond of labour) erected the tent over a space which we had cleared of the larger and rougher pieces of limestone, leaving what was called a soft spot as our castle and bedroom. One man, who dubbed himself cook for the day, with a mate, whose turn it would be to superintend the kitchen on the morrow, proceeded to cook the dinner. The cooking apparatus was a boat's stove, eighteen inches long, and nine inches broad, in which lignum vitae was used as fuel.

Water having first to be made from ice and snow, and then boiled in the open air, the process was not an expeditious one, and I took my gun and struck inland; whilst Mr. May, in an opposite direction, made for a point of land to the westward.

[Headnote: A WINTER'S EVENING.]

No pen can tell of the unredeemed loneliness of an October evening in this part of the polar world: the monotonous, rounded outline of the adjacent hills, as well as the flat, unmeaning valleys, were of one uniform colour, either deadly white with snow or striped with brown where too steep for the winter mantle as yet to find a holding ground. You felt pity for the shivering blade of grass, which, at your feet, was already drooping under the cold and icy hand that would press it down to mother earth for nine long months. Talk of "antres vast and deserts idle,"—talk of the sadness awakened in the wanderer's bosom by the lone scenes, be it even by the cursed waters of Judea, or afflicted lands of Assyria,—give me, I say, death in any one of them, with the good sun and a bright heaven to whisper hope, rather than the solitary horrors of such scenes as these. The very wind scorned courtesy to such a repulsive landscape, and as the stones rattled down the slope of a ravine before the blast, it only recalled dead men's bones, and motion in a catacomb. A truce, however, to such thoughts—May's merry recognition breaks the stillness of the frosty air. He has been to the point, and finds it an island; he says—and I vow he means what he says—that May Island is a beautiful spot! it has grass and moss upon it, and traces of game: next year he intends to bag many a hare there. Sanguine feelings are infectious; I forget my own impressions, adopt his rosy ones, and we walk back to our tent, guided by the smoke, plotting plans for shooting excursions in 1851!

"Pemmican is all ready, sir!" reports our Soyer. In troth, appetite need wait on one, for the greasy compound would pall on moderate taste or hunger. Tradition said that it was composed of the best rump-steaks and suet, and cost 1s. 6d. per pound, but we generally voted it composed of broken-down horses and Russian tallow. If not sweet in savour, it was strong in nourishment, and after six table-spoonfuls, the most ravenous feeder might have cried, hold! enough!

Frozen pork, which had been boiled on board the ship, was quite a treat, and decidedly better than cold, thawed pork could have been; this, with plenty of biscuit and a "jolly hot" basin of tea, and, as one of the seamen observed, "an invitation to Windsor would have been declined." The meal done, the tent was carefully swept out, the last careful arrangement of the pebbles, termed "picking the feathers," was made, and then a water-proof sheet spread, to prevent our warm bodies, during the night, melting the frozen ground and wetting us through. Then every man his blanket bag, a general popping thereinto of the legs and body, in order that the operation of undressing might be decently performed, the jacket and wet boots carefully arranged for a pillow; the wolf-skin robes,—Oh, that the contractor may be haunted by the aroma of the said robes for his life-time!—brought along both over and under the party, who lie down alternately, head and feet in a row, across the tent. Pipes are lighted, the evening's glass of grog served out; and whilst the cook is washing up, and preparing his things ready for the morning meal, as well as securing the food on the sledges from foxes, or a hungry bear, many a tough yarn is told, or joke made, which keep all hands laughing until the cook reports all right, comes in, hooks up the door, tucks in the fur robe; and seven jolly mortals, with a brown-holland tent over their heads, and a winter's gale without, try to nestle their sides amongst the softest stones, and at last drop into such a sleep as those only enjoy who drag a sledge all day, with the temperature 30 deg. below freezing point.

[Headnote: AUTUMNAL TRAVELLING.]

Friday morning, at seven o'clock, we rolled up our beds, or rather sleeping-bags, stowed the sledge, drank boiling hot chocolate, and gnawed cheerily at frozen pork and biscuit; the weather beautiful, calm, and very cold, below zero, we started, skirting round the bay. By noon a gale sprung up, sending a body of icy spiculae against our faces, causing both pain and annoyance. Two mock suns for the first time were seen to-day. At noon we sat down under the lee of our sledge, and partook of a mouthful of grog and biscuit, and again marched rapidly towards "Cape No Name!" By the evening we had marched fourteen miles, the entire circuit of the bay, without observing any trace of Franklin having visited the neighbourhood; and as frost-bites began to attack our faces, we erected our tent as expeditiously as possible, and in it took shelter from the wind and cold. The pungent smoke of the lignum vitae kept us weeping, as long as the cooking went on; and between the annoyance of it, the cold, and fatigue, we all dropped off to sleep, indifferent to a falling temperature, prowling bears, or a violent gale, which threatened to blow us from the beach on which we had pitched our fluttering tent.

Next day, my work being done, we struck homeward for the squadron, and reached it the same evening, the said 12th of October being the last autumnal travelling of our squadron.

The following week the temperature rallied a little, and the weather was generally finer; our preparations for wintering were nearly completed, and the poor sickly sun barely for two hours a day rose above the heights of Griffith's Island.

To our great joy, on the 17th of October, Captain Penny came over from Assistance Harbour. He had happily decided on taking up the search of Wellington Channel; and an understanding was come to, that his squadron should carry out the travelling operations next spring on that route, whilst our squadron accomplished the farthest possible distance towards Melville Island, and from Cape Walker to the south-west.

Captain P. expressed it as his opinion that the Americans had not escaped out of Barrow's Strait, in consequence of a sudden gale springing up from the southward, shortly after they had passed his winter quarters. This supposition we of course afterwards found to be true, although at the time we all used to speak of the Americans as being safe and snug in New York, instead of drifting about in the ice, within a few miles of us, as was really the case.

With Penny's return to his vessels, may be said to have closed all the Arctic operations of the year 1850. Our upper decks were now covered in; stoves and warming apparatus set at work; boats secured on the ice; all the lumber taken off the upper decks, to clear them for exercise in bad weather; masts and yards made as snug as possible; rows of posts placed to show the road in the darkness and snow-storms from ship to ship; holes cut through the ice into the sea, to secure a ready supply of water, in the event of fire; arrangements made to insure cleanliness of ships and crews, and a winter routine entered upon, which those curious in such matters may find fully detailed in Parry's "First Voyage," or Ross's "Four Years in Boothia."

The building of snow-walls, posts, houses, &c., was at first a source of amusement to the men, and gave them a great field in which to exercise their skill and ingenuity. People at home would, I think, have been delighted to see the pretty and tasteful things cut out of snow: obelisks, sphinxes, vases, cannon, and, lastly, a stately Britannia, looking to the westward, enlivened the floe, and gave voluntary occupation to the crews of the vessels. These, however, only served for a while; and as the arctic night of months closed in, every one's wits were exerted to the utmost to invent occupation and entertainment for our little community.

[Headnote: AN ARCTIC PRAYER.]

On November the 8th, two officers ascended the heights of Griffith's Island, and at noontide caught the last glimpse of the sun, as it happened to be thrown up by refraction, though in reality it was seventeen miles below our horizon. We were now fairly about to undergo a dark, arctic winter, in 74-1/2 degrees of north latitude; and light-hearted and confident as we felt in our resources of every description, one could not, when looking around the dreary scene which spread around us on every side, but feel how much our lives were in His hands who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb; and wanting must he have been in feeling who did not offer up a heartfelt prayer that returning day and returning summer might find him able and fit to undergo the hardship and fatigue of journeys on foot, to seek for his long-lost fellow-seamen. On leaving England, amongst the many kind, thoughtful presents, both public and private, none struck me as being more appropriate than the following form of prayer:—

A PRAYER FOR THE ARCTIC EXPEDITION.

"O Lord God, our Heavenly Father, who teachest man knowledge, and givest him skill and power to accomplish his designs, we desire continually to wait, and call, and depend upon Thee. Thy way is in the sea, and Thy paths in the great waters. Thou rulest and commandest all things. We therefore draw nigh unto Thee for help in the great work which we now have to do.

"Leave us not, we beseech Thee, to our own counsel, nor to the imaginations of our own foolish and deceitful hearts: but lead us by the way wherein we should go, that discretion may preserve us, and understanding may keep us. Do Thou, O Lord, make our way prosperous, and give us Thy blessing and good success. Bring all needful things to our remembrance; and where we have not the presence of mind, nor the ability, to perform Thy will, magnify Thy power in our weakness. Let Thy good providence be our aid and protection, and Thy Holy Spirit our Guide and Comforter, that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul. Endue us with such strength and patience as may carry us through every toil and danger, whether by sea or land; and, if it be Thy good pleasure, vouchsafe to us a safe return to our families and homes.

"And, as Thy Holy Word teaches us to pray for others, as well as for ourselves, we most humbly beseech Thee, of Thy goodness, O Lord, to comfort and succour all those who are in trouble, sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity, especially such as may now be exposed to the dangers of the deep, or afflicted with cold and hunger. Bestow upon them Thy rich mercies, according to their several wants and necessities, and deliver them out of their distress. They are known to Thee by name, let them be known of Thee as the children of Thy grace and love. Bless us all with Thy favour, in which is life, and with all spiritual blessings in Christ Jesus; and grant us so to pass the waves of this troublesome world, that finally we may come unto Thy everlasting kingdom. Grant this, for Thy dear Son's sake, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

While touching on a religious point connected with our expedition, I must say, that as yet we have not in the Navy a single good set of sermons adapted to interest and instruct the seamen. The commander, or commanding officer, of a man-of-war usually reads, in the absence of the chaplain, the Divine Service on Sundays. We, of course, did not fail to do so; but I never saw an English sailor who would sit down and listen attentively to the discussion of some knotty text, exhibiting far more ingenuity on the part of some learned commentator, than simplicity and clearness adapted to plain, uninformed minds: in a future expedition, and, indeed, in the Navy generally, it is to be hoped this deficiency will be remedied. Sermons in the pure and Christianlike tone of Porteus's Lent Lectures, I would humbly recommend as a guide for those who may be inclined to take the good work in hand.

[Headnote: WINTER OCCUPATIONS.]

A theatre, a casino, and a saloon, two Arctic newspapers, one of them an illustrated one, evening-schools, and instructive lectures, gave no one an excuse for being idle. The officers and men voluntarily imposed on themselves various duties in connection with the different departments; one was scene-painter, and under his talented pencil the canvas glowed with pictures one almost grieved to see thus employed. Decorators and statuaries produced effects which, with such limited means, were really astounding; vocalists and musicians practised and persevered until an instrumental band and glee-club were formed, to our general delight; officers and men sung who never sang before, and maybe, except under similar circumstances, will never sing again; maskers had to construct their own masks, and sew their own dresses, the signal flags serving in lieu of a supply from the milliner's; and, with wonderful ingenuity, a fancy dress ball was got up, which, in variety and tastefulness of costume, would have borne comparison with any one in Europe.

Here, editors floundered through a leader, exhibiting French ingenuity, in saying their say without bringing themselves within the grasp of the censors; here, rough contributors, whose hands, more accustomed to the tar-brush than the pen, turned flowing sentences by the aid of old miscellanies and well-thumbed dictionaries. There, on wooden stools, leaning over long tables, were a row of serious and anxious faces, which put one in mind of the days of cane and birch,—an Arctic school. Tough old marines curving "pot-hooks and hangers," as if their very lives depended on their performances, with an occasional burst of petulance, such as, "D—— the pen, it won't write! I beg pardon, sir; this 'ere pen will splutter!" which set the scholars in a roar. Then some big-whiskered top-man, with slate in hand, reciting his multiplication-table, and grinning at approval; whilst a "scholar," as the cleverest were termed, gave the instructor a hard task to preserve his learned superiority.

In an adjoining place, an observer might notice a tier of attentive, upturned faces, listening, like children to some nursery-tale. It was the first lieutenant of the "Resolute," my much-loved, faithful friend; he was telling them of the deeds of their forefathers in these regions. Parry's glorious pages open by his side, he told those stern men with tender hearts, of the sufferings, the enterprise, the courage, and the reward of imperishable renown exhibited and won by others. The glistening eye and compressed lip showed how the good seed had taken root in the listeners around, and every evening saw that sailor audience gather around him whom they knew to be the "gallant and true," to share in his feelings and borrow from his enthusiasm.

[Headnote: WINTER SCENERY.]

For some time after the sun had ceased to visit our heavens, the southern side of the horizon, for a few hours at noon, was strongly illumined, the sky being shaded, from deep and rosy red through all the most delicate tints of pink and blue, until, in the north, a cold bluish-black scowled angrily over the pale mountains, who, in widowed loneliness, had drawn their cowls of snow around, and, uncheered by the roseate kiss of the bridegroom sun, seemed to mourn over the silence and darkness at their feet. Such was a fine day in November, and through the gray twilight the dark forms of our people, as they traversed the floe, or scaled the cliffs of Griffith's Island, or, maybe, occasionally hunted a bear, completed the scene.

Charmed as we were with the evanescent colouring of our sky on a fine day, it was in loveliness far surpassed by the exceeding beauty of Arctic moonlight. Daylight but served to show the bleakness of frozen sea and land; but a full, silvery moon, wheeling around the zenith for several days and nights, threw a poetry over every thing, which reached and glowed in the heart, in spite of intense frost and biting breeze. At such a time we were wont to pull on our warm jackets and seal-skin caps, and, striding out upon the floe, enjoy to the utmost the elasticity of health and spirits with which we were blest under so bracing a climate. There, with one's friend, the mutual recognition of Nature's beauties and congratulations, at being there to witness it, richly rewarded us for our isolation from the world of our fellow-men; and general enthusiasm had its full sway as, from the heights of Griffith's Island, we looked down on our squadron, whose masts alone pierced the broad white expanse over Barrow's Strait, and threw long shadows across the floe. The noble mission for which they had been sent into the north was ever present to us, and away instinctively flew our thoughts to our gallant friends in the "Erebus" and "Terror:" thus alternately elated and saddened, we enjoyed, with earnest feelings, the wondrous scene around us.

Imagine yourself, dear reader, on the edge of a lofty table-land, which, dipping suddenly at your feet, sloped again to the sea of ice, at a distance of some 500 feet below; fancy a vast plain of ice and snow, diversified by tiers of broken-up ice and snow-wreaths, which, glistening on the one side, reflected back the moonlight with an exceeding brilliancy, whilst the strong shadow on the farther side of the masses threw them out in strong relief; four lone barks, atoms in the extensive landscape,—the observers' home,—and beyond them, on the horizon, sweeping in many a bay, valley, and headland, the coast of Cornwallis Island, now bursting upon the eye in startling distinctness, then receding into shadow and gloom, and then anon diversified with flickering shades, like an autumnal landscape in our own dear land, as the fleecy clouds sailed slowly across the moon,—she the while riding through a heaven of deepest blue, richly illuminated by the constellations of the northern hemisphere, wheeling around the Polar Star like armies in review,—and say if the North has not its charms for him who can appreciate such novel aspects of Nature.

If you still doubt it, let us descend the adjacent ravine, formed as if some giant hand had rent the firm cliff from crown to basement; stand we now at its upper entrance, where it slopes away to the table-land behind,—didst ever see a sight more wildly beautiful? The grim and frowning buttresses on either hand, too steep for even the snow-flake to rest upon, whilst over its brow a pigmy glacier topples with graceful curve, or droops in many an icy wreath and spray, threatening us with destruction as we slide down the sharp declivity. Now, with many a graceful curve, the gorge winds down to the frozen sea, a glimpse of which forms the background to the lower entrance. Observe how the snow, which, by wintry gales, has been swept into the ravine, has hardened into masses, resembling naught so much as a fierce rapid suddenly congealed; and then look overhead, to a deep blue sky, spangled with a million spheres; if thou couldst have seen this, and much more than pen or tongues can tell, and not admire it, then I say,

"God help thee, Thou hast reason to be sad."

[Headnote: OPEN WATERS IN BARROW'S STRAIT.]

As late as the 18th of November, water, in a broad lane, was seen to the S.E. from the extreme of Griffith's Island, showing the pack to be in motion in Barrow's Strait, a belief we otherwise arrived at from the frequent appearance of a water-sky in the same direction, especially after spring-tides or strong N.W. gales. A few bears, perhaps eight in all, visited our ships during the closing period of 1850, showing they did not hibernate immediately the sun disappeared; indeed, so long as there was water near us, they would find seal, their usual, perhaps their only, food. And, apart from the appearance of water in our immediate neighbourhood, we were convinced that Lancaster Sound was still open, from the sudden rise of the temperature of the air, whenever the wind drew to that quarter; and, what was more extraordinary still, whenever the wind was from the northward, a black vapour, a certain indication of water, was seen to be rolling past Cape Hotham out of Wellington Channel: could that have been open so long after the sea in our neighbourhood was closed?

However, to return to the bears. Whenever an unlucky brute was seen, the severe competition as to who should possess his skin, entailed no small risk of life upon the hunters as well as the proprietor of the coveted prize; and crossing the line of fire was recklessly performed, in a manner to have shocked an "Excellent" gunner or a Woolwich artilleryman. Discretion was the better part of Ursine valour, and one brute was alone bagged, although a good many were very much frightened; the frequent chases, and constant failures, giving rise to much quizzing on the part of the unsportsmanlike, and learned dissertations by the Nimrods upon the rules to be observed in bear-shooting. As instances of what risks the community ran, whilst the furor for skins was at its height, I will merely say, that two unconscious mortals who had got on a hummock to see around, were mistaken in the twilight for bears, and stood fire from a rifle, which, happily for them, on this occasion, missed its mark; and one day, a respectable individual, trotting among the snow ridges, was horrified to see on a piece of canvas, in large letters, "Beware of spring-guns!" Picture to oneself the person's feelings. How was he to escape? The next tread of his foot, and, maybe, off into his body might be discharged the murderous barrel secreted for a bear. Fate decreed otherwise; the alarmed seaman escaped; and the spring-gun was banished to some lonely ravine, from which the proprietor daily anticipated a dead bear, and I, a dead shipmate; some of whom, pining for forlorn damsels at home, were led to sentimentalize in retired places.

My captain of the forecastle, whose sporting propensities I have elsewhere noted, cured me of a momentary mania for trophies of the chase, thus: a large bear and cub, after coming towards the "Pioneer," for some time halted, and were fired at by three officers with guns: of the three barrels only one went off, wounding the cub, which, with its mother, made for Griffith's Island. I chased, followed by some of the men, the foremost of whom was my ancient mariner, who kept close to my heels, urging me on by declaring we were fast catching the brutes. We decidedly had done so. By the time I reached the island, and both bears were within shot, climbing up, with cat-like agility, the steep face of the cliffs, again and again I failed to get my gun off; and as the she-bear looked at one time inclined to come down and see who the bipeds were that had chased her, I looked round at my supporters, who were vehemently exclaiming that "we should have her in a minute!" They consisted of Old Abbot, armed with a snow-knife, and some men who ran, because they saw others doing so. Now, a snow-knife consists of nothing more than a piece of old iron beaten out on an anvil so as to cut snow, having an edge, which, when I anxiously asked if it was sharp, I was figuratively told, "The owner, John Abbot, could have ridden to the devil upon it without injury to his person." Yet, with this, I verily believe, the old seaman would have entered the list against the teeth and talons of Mistress Bruin. I objected, however, and allowed her to escape with becoming thankfulness.

[Headnote: CHRISTMAS-DAY ON BOARD.]

Christmas-day was, of course, not forgotten, and our best, though humble fare was displayed in each of the vessels. Hospitality and good-fellowship, however, were not confined to this day alone; and had not the bond of friendship, which knit the officers and men of the squadron together, taught them the necessity of sharing the little they had, the open-handed liberality of our hospitable leader would have done so. At his table, petty differences, professional heart-burnings, and quarter-deck etiquette, were forgotten and laid aside. A liberal and pleasant host made merry guests; and amongst the many ways in which we strove to beguile the winter of 1850-51, none have more agreeable recollections than his dinner-parties.

It may not here be out of place to describe the ordinary clothing worn, as yet, by officers and men: the temperature ranging often as low as 35 deg. below zero, with strong gales:—

Clothing when indoors.

1 Flannel shirt with sleeves. 1 Cotton ditto. 1 Waistcoat with sleeves, lined with flannel. 1 Drawers flannel. 1 Pair trowsers, box-cloth, lined with flannel. 1 Pair thick stockings. 1 Do. thin ditto. 1 Horse-hair sole. 1 Pair carpet boots.

Additional for walking.

Box-cloth pea jacket. Welsh wig. Seal-skin cap. Beaver-skin mitts. Shawl or comfortable. Men with tender faces required a cloth face-cover in the wind.

January, 1851.—That we were all paler, was perceptible to every one; but only a few had lost flesh. A very little exercise was found to tire one very soon, and appetites were generally on the decrease. For four hours a-day, we all, men and officers, made a point of facing the external air, let the temperature be what it would; and this rule was carefully adhered to, until the return of the sun naturally induced us to lengthen our excursions. Only on three occasions was the weather too severe for communication between the vessels, and the first of these occurred in the close of December and commencement of January. To show one's face outboard, was then an impossibility; the gale swept before it a body of snow higher than our trucks, and hid every thing a few yards off from sight. The "Resolute," three hundred yards off, was invisible; and the accumulation of snow upon our housing, threatened to burst it in. The floe seemed to tremble as the gale shrieked over its surface, and tore up the old snow-drifts and deposited them afresh. A wilder scene man never saw: it was worthy of the Arctic regions, and a fit requiem for the departing year.

[Headnote: AURORAS AND CLOUDLESS SKIES.]

After one of these gales, walking on the floe was a work of much difficulty, in consequence of the irregular surface it presented to the foot. The snow-ridges, called sastrugi by the Russians, run (where unobstructed by obstacles which caused a counter-current) in parallel lines, waving and winding together, and so close and hard on the edges, that the foot, huge and clumsy as it was with warm clothing and thick soles, slipped about most helplessly; and we, therefore, had to wait until a change of wind had, by a cross drift, filled up the ridges thus formed, before we took long walks; and on the road between the vessels parties were usually employed mending the roads.

With one portion of the phenomena of the North Sea, we were particularly disappointed—and this was the aurora. The colours, in all cases, were vastly inferior to those seen by us in far southern latitudes, a pale golden or straw colour being the prevailing hue; the most striking part of it was its apparent proximity to the earth. Once or twice the auroral coruscations accompanied a moon in its last quarter, and generally previous to bad weather. On one occasion, in Christmas-week, the light played about the edge of a low vapour which hung at a very small altitude over us; it never, on this occasion, lit up the whole under-surface of the said clouds, but formed a series of concentric semicircles of light, with dark spaces between, which waved, glistened, and vanished, like moonlight upon a heaving, but unbroken sea.

At other times, a stream of the same coloured vapour would span the heavens through the zenith, and from it would shoot sprays of pale orange colour for many hours; and then the mysterious light would again as suddenly vanish.

Clouds may have been said to have absented themselves from our sky for at least two months of the winter; the heavens, the stars, and moon, were often obscured, but it invariably appeared to be from snow-drift rather than from a cloudy sky. Snow fell incessantly, even on the clearest day, consisting of minute spiculae, hardly perceptible to the eye, but which accumulated rapidly, and soon covered any thing left in the open air for a few minutes. With returning daylight, and the promise of the sun, clouds again dotted the southern heavens, and mottled with beautiful mackerel skies the dome above us.

The immense quantity of snow which in a gale is kept suspended in the air by the action of the wind, and is termed drift, quite astounded us; and on two occasions, with north-westerly gales, we had a good opportunity of noting its accumulation. The "Pioneer" and "Intrepid" laying across the wind, the counter-current caused a larger deposition around us than elsewhere. On the first occasion, after the wind subsided, we found a snow-wreath along the weather-side of the vessel for a length of one hundred and eighty feet, about eleven feet deep in the deepest part, and sloping gradually away for one hundred yards. After weighing a cubic foot of the snow, I calculated that, at the lowest computation, the mass thus deposited in twenty-four hours was not less than four hundred tons in weight! How the floe bore the pressure seemed unaccountable to me; but it did around the "Pioneer," although that near the "Intrepid" broke down, and the water flowed up above the snow, forming it rapidly into ice.

Much later in the winter—indeed in the month of March—a succession of furious gales quite smothered us; the drift piled up as high as the top of the winter housing, which was fifteen feet above the deck, and then blew over to leeward, filling up on that side likewise; whilst we, unable to face the storm without, could only prevent the housing from being broken in, by placing props of planks and spars to support the superincumbent weight. We had actually to dig our way out of the vessel; and I know not how we should have freed the poor smothered craft, had not Nature assisted us, by the breaking down of the floe. This at first threatened to injure and strain the "Pioneer," for, firmly held as she was all round, the vessel was immersed some two feet deeper than she ought to have been by the subsiding ice. We set to work, however, to try and liberate her, when one night a series of loud reports awakened me, and the quarter-master at the same time ran down to say, in his quaint phraseology, that "she was a going off!" a fact of which there was no doubt, as, with sudden surges, the "Pioneer" overcame the hold the floe had taken of her poor sides, and after some time she floated again at her true water-line; while the mountain of snow around us had sunk to the level of the floe, and at first formed enormously thick ice; but this in time, by the action of the under-currents of warm water, reduced itself to the ordinary thickness of the adjoining floe.

[Headnote: WINTER EMPLOYMENTS.]

Before we enter upon the subject of returning spring, and the new occupations and excitement which it called forth, let me try to convey an idea of a day spent in total darkness, as far as the sun was concerned.

Fancy the lower deck and cabins of a ship, lighted entirely by candles and oil lamps; every aperture by which external air could enter, unless under control, carefully secured, and all doors doubled, to prevent draughts. It is breakfast-time, and reeking hot cocoa from every mess-table is sending up a dense vapour, which, in addition to the breath of so many souls, fills the space between decks with mist and fog. Should you go on deck (and remember you go from 50 deg. above zero to 40 deg. below it, in eight short steps), a column of smoke will be seen rising through certain apertures called ventilators, whilst others are supplying a current of pure air. Breakfast done,—and, from the jokes and merriment, it has been a good one,—there is a general pulling on of warm clothing, and the major part of the officers and men go on deck. A few remain, to clean and clear up, arrange for the dinner, and remove any damp or ice that may have formed in holes or corners during the sleeping hours. This done, a muster of all hands, called "divisions," took place. Officers inspected the men, and every part of the ship, to see both were clean, and then they dispersed to their several duties, which at this severe season were very light; indeed, confined mainly to supply the cook with snow to melt for water, keeping the fire-hole in the floe open, and sweeping the decks. Knots of two or three would, if there was not a strong gale blowing, be seen taking exercise at a distance from the vessels; and others, strolling under the lee, discussed the past and prophesied as to the future. At noon, soups, preserved meats, or salt horse, formed the seamen's dinner, with the addition of preserved potatoes, a treat which the gallant fellows duly appreciated. The officers dined somewhat later—2 P.M. A little afternoon exercise was then taken, and the evening meal, of tea, next partaken of. If it was school night, the voluntary pupils went to their tasks, the masters to their posts; reading men producing their books, writing men their desks, artists painted by candle-light, and cards, chess, or draughts, combined with conversation, and an evening's glass of grog, and a cigar or pipe, served to bring round bed-time again.

[Headnote: MASK BALLS.]

Monotony was our enemy, and to kill time our endeavour: hardships there was none: for all we underwent in winter quarters, in the shape of cold, hunger, or danger, was voluntary. Monotony, as I again repeat, was the only disagreeable part of our wintering at Griffith's Island. Some men amongst us seemed in their temperament to be much better able to endure this monotony than others: and others who had no source of amusement—such as reading, writing, or drawing—were much to be pitied. Nothing struck one more than the strong tendency to talk of home, and England: it became quite a disease. We, for the most part, spoke as if all the most affectionate husbands, dutiful sons, and attached brothers, had found their way into the Arctic expeditions. From these maudlins, to which the most strong-minded occasionally gave way, we gladly sought refuge in amusements,—such as theatres and balls. To give an idea of the zest with which all entered these gayeties, I will recount a list of the characters assumed by the officers, at the first fancy dress ball.

Capt. Austin Old Chairs to mend. Ommanney Mayor of Griffith's Island. Lieut. Aldrich Fancy dress. Cator Old English Gentleman. M'Clintock Blue Demon. Osborn Black Domino. Brown Red Devil. Mecham Blue and White Domino. Dr. Donnet A Lady, then a Friar. Bradford A Capuchin. Ward A Beadle. Mr. King Jockey. Rearse Smuggler. May Roman Soldier. Hamilton A Spinster. Eds Spanish Dancing Girl. Markham As Allegory. Cheyne Miss Maria. M'Dougall Vivandiere. Lewis Farmer Wapstraw. Mr. Allard Mahomet Ali. Webb Bedouin Arab. Harwood Miss Tabitha Flick. Allen Greenwich Pensioner. Brooman Punch. Crabbe Sir Charles Grandison. Richards A Scot.

Whilst pirates, Turks, gipsies, and ghosts, without number, chequered the ball-room.

These our amusements; but the main object of our coming to the North was kept constantly in view, and nothing that labour or ingenuity could devise towards the successful accomplishment of our mission was wanting.

Some turned their attention to obtaining information for the general good, upon all that related to travelling in frozen regions; others plodded through many a volume, for meteorological information upon which to arrange a safe period of departure for the travellers in the spring; others tried to found some reasonable theory as to the geography of the unexplored regions around us; whilst a portion more actively employed themselves in bringing into action divers practical means of communicating with our missing country-men which had been supplied to us in England.

Rockets, in the calm evenings of early winter, were fired with great effect; in proof of which, signals were several times exchanged, both in the autumn and spring, between Assistance Harbour and our squadron, by the aid of these useful projectiles, although the distance was twenty miles.

[Headnote: ROCKETS.—BALLOONS.]

The balloons, however, as a more novel attempt for distant signalizing, or, rather, intercommunication, were a subject of deep interest. The plan was simple, and ingenious; the merit of the idea, as applicable to the relief of Sir John Franklin, by communicating to him intelligence of the position of the searching parties, being due to Mr. Shepperd, C.E. It was as follows: a balloon of oiled silk, capable of raising about a pound weight when inflated, was filled with hydrogen evolved from a strong cask, fitted with a valve, in which, when required for the purpose, a certain quantity of zinc filings and sulphuric acid had been introduced. To the base of the balloon, when inflated, a piece of slow match, five feet long, was attached, its lower end being lighted. Along this match, at certain intervals, pieces of coloured paper and silk were secured with thread, and on them the information as to our position and intended lines of search were printed. The balloon, when liberated, sailed rapidly along, rising withal, and, as the match burnt, the papers were gradually detached, and, falling, spread themselves on the snow, where their glaring colours would soon attract notice, should they happily fall near the poor fellows in the "Erebus" and "Terror."

Every care was taken to despatch these balloons with winds from the southward and south-east, so that the papers might be distributed to the north and north-west, and westward. Fire-balloons, of which there were a few, were likewise despatched; but the impression in my own mind is, that the majority of the balloons despatched by us, after rising to some height, were carried by counter-currents—always the most prevalent ones at the cold season of the year—to the southward and south-west. On two occasions I distinctly saw the balloons, when started with S.E. winds, pass for a while to the N.W., and then, at a great altitude, alter their course under the influence of a contrary current, and pass as rapidly to the S.E., in the teeth of the light airs we had on the floe.

The farthest distance from the point of departure at which any of these papers were found, as far as I know, appears to have been within fifty miles. The "Assistance" despatched some from near Barlow Inlet, which were picked up on the opposite side of Wellington Channel north of Port Innis. Neither this, however, nor our non-discovery of any papers during our travelling in 1851, can be adduced as a proof against their possible utility and success; and the balloons may still be considered a most useful auxiliary.

Next—indeed we should say before the balloons—as a means of communication, came carrier-pigeons. When first proposed, in 1850, many laughed at the idea of a bird doing any service in such a cause; and, maybe, might have laughed yet, had not a carrier-pigeon, despatched by Capt. Sir John Ross, from his winter quarters in 1850, actually reached its home, near Ayr, in Scotland, in five days. In our expedition none of these birds had been taken; but on board the "Felix" Sir John Ross had a couple of brace. I plead guilty, myself, to having joined in the laugh at the poor creatures, when, with feathers in a half-moulted state, I heard it proposed to despatch them from Beechey Island, in 74 degrees N. and 92 degrees W., to the meridian of Greenwich and 56 degrees N. latitude, even though they were slung to a balloon for a part of the journey. At any rate it was done, I think, on the 6th October, 1850, from Assistance Harbour. Two birds, duly freighted with intelligence, and notes from the married men, were put in a basket, which was attached to a balloon in such a manner, that, after combustion of a certain quantity of match, the carrier-pigeons would be launched into the air to commence their flight. The idea being that they would fetch some of the whaling vessels about the mouth of Hudson's Straits; at least so I heard. The wind was then blowing fresh from the north-west, and the temperature below zero.

When we in the squadron off Griffith's Island heard of the departure of the mail, the opinion prevalent was, the birds would be frozen to death. We were mistaken; for, in about one hundred and twenty hours, one of these birds, as verified by the lady to whom it had originally belonged, reached her house, and flew to the nest in which it had been hatched in the pigeon-house. It had, however, by some means or other, shaken itself clear of the packet entrusted to its charge. This marvellous flight of three thousand miles is the longest on record; but, of course, we are unable to say for what portion of the distance the bird was carried by the balloon, and when or where liberated; that depending upon the strength and direction of the gale in which the balloon was carried along.

[Headnote: CARRIER-PIGEONS.—KITES.]

Kites, which the kind Mr. Benjamin Smith had supplied me with, both as a tractile power to assist us in dragging sledges, as well as a means of signalizing between parties, afforded much interest, and the success of our experiments in applying them to dragging weights was so great, that all those I was able to supply gladly provided themselves with so useful an auxiliary to foot-travellers. Experience, however, taught us how impossible it was to command a fair wind, without which they were useless weight, and in severe weather there was some danger, when handling or coiling up the lines, of having to expose the hands and being frost-bitten.

My attempts failed to despatch the kites with a weight attached sufficient to keep a strain on the string, and so keep the kite aloft, whilst at the same time it was enabled to proceed through the air in any direction I chose; for, as may be conceived, a little too much weight made the kite a fixture, whilst a little too little, or a sudden flaw of wind, would topple the kite over and bring it to the earth. As a means of signalizing between ships when stationary, the flying of kites of different colours, sizes, or numbers, attached one to the other, would, I am sure, in the clear atmosphere of the Arctic regions, be found wonderfully efficacious.

Lastly, we carried out, more I believe from amusement than from any idea of being useful, a plan which had suggested itself to the people of Sir James Ross's expedition when wintering in Leopold Harbour in 1848-49, that of enclosing information in a collar, secured to the necks of the Arctic foxes, caught in traps, and then liberated. Several animals thus entrusted with despatches or records were liberated by different ships; but, as the truth must be told, I fear in many cases the next night saw the poor "postman," as Jack facetiously termed him, in another trap, out of which he would be taken, killed, the skin taken off, and packed away, to ornament, at some future day, the neck of some fair Dulcinea. As a "sub," I was admitted into this secret mystery, or otherwise, I with others might have accounted for the disappearance of the collared foxes by believing them busy on their honourable mission. In order that the crime of killing the "postmen" may be recognized in its true light, it is but fair that I should say, that the brutes, having partaken once of the good cheer on board or around the ships, seldom seemed satisfied with the mere empty honours of a copper collar, and returned to be caught over and over again. Strict laws were laid down for their safety, such as an edict that no fox taken alive in a trap was to be killed: of course no fox was after this taken alive; they were all unaccountably dead, unless it was some fortunate wight whose brush and coat were worthless: in such case he lived either to drag about a quantity of information in a copper collar for the rest of his days, or else to die a slow death, as being intended for Lord Derby's menagerie.

The departure of a postman was a scene of no small merriment: all hands, from the captain to the cook, were out to chase the fox, who, half frightened out of its wits, seemed to doubt which way to run; whilst loud shouts and roars of laughter, breaking the cold, frosty air, were heard from ship to ship, as the fox-hunters swelled in numbers from all sides, and those that could not run mounted some neighbouring hummock of ice, and gave a view halloo, which said far more for robust health than for tuneful melody.

[Headnote: DESULTORY OCCUPATIONS.]

During the darker period of the winter, and when the uncertainty of the weather was such that, from a perfect calm and clear weather, a few hours would change the scene to a howling tempest and thick drift, in which, if one had been caught, death must inevitably have followed, great care was necessary in taking our walks, to prevent being so overtaken; but, nevertheless, walks of seven or eight miles from the vessels were, on several occasions, performed, and a severe temperature faced and mastered with perfect indifference. I remember well on the 13th January seeing mercury, in a solid mass, with a temperature of 40 deg. below zero, and being one of a good many who had taken three hours hard walking for mere pleasure.

We joked not a little at the fireside stories at home, of bitter cold nights, and being frozen to death on some English heath: it seemed to us so incredible that people should be frost-bitten, because the air was below freezing point; whilst we should have hailed with delight the thermometer standing at zero, and indeed looked forward to such a state of our climate, as people in the temperate zone would to May sunshine and flowers.

With the increasing twilight, many an anxious eye was cast from the top of Griffith's Island, to see the prospect of good foot-travelling offered by the floe: it cannot have been said to be cheering, for broken and hummocky ice met the eye whichever way one looked, with here and there a small smooth space; and if it looked so from the heights, we knew full well that when actually amongst those hummocks, the travelling would be arduous indeed. There was some time yet, however, to elapse before the tussle commenced; and many a snow-storm had time meanwhile to rage. With seamen's sanguineness, we trusted that they would fill up the hollows, and help to smooth over the broken pack; any way, we all knew "a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether," would master more difficulties than as yet had shown themselves in the Arctic regions.

Such were our occupations, such the amusements, such the hopes and fears of our winter quarters off Griffith's Island; and looking back now at that period, we happily forget its dreariness, and recollect only its brighter moments—the fast friendship there formed for many, the respect and admiration for all.

February 7th, 1851.—The stentorian lungs of the "Resolute's" boatswain hailed, to say the sun was in sight from the mast-head; and in all the vessels the rigging was soon manned to get the first glimpse of the returning god of day. Slowly it rose, and loud and hearty cheers greeted the return of an orb whom the world, without the frozen zone, does not half appreciate, because he is always with them. For ninety-six days it had not gladdened us, and now its return put fresh life into our night-wearied bodies. For a whole hour we feasted ourselves with admiring the sphere of fire, which illumined without warming us; and, indeed, the cold now increased rather than otherwise, and our lowest temperature and severest weather did not occur until March.

[Headnote: PREPARATIONS FOR TRAVELLING.]

Preparations for spring travelling were now hastened; daily committees of officers met, by order, to discuss every point, and receive, approve, or reject proposals and plans. Every soul, high and low, exerted his ingenuity and abilities to invent articles, portable and useful for travellers; whilst others sent in to the leader of the expedition schemes of search, in which distances, directions, weights, and material were duly considered. Hopes rose high, as every one felt that the field was thrown open to individual ability and skill. Every one, naturally, (for orders "to put the men in training" did not come out until afterwards,) commenced to "harden up" for the labour before them. Zealous individuals might be daily seen trying all sorts of patents. Out of their hard-earned wages some of the men bought and made sails of peculiar cut for their sledges; others, after the "working hours" were over, constructed water-bottles, velocipedes, cooking-tins; in fact, neither pains nor trouble were spared—officers and men vying in zeal.

Early in March an interchange of visits between our squadron and that under Captain Penny opened the communication. His vessels had got through the winter equally well with ourselves, and he, in like manner, was hard at work, preparing for the foot journeys; and, as no sledges or other equipment had been brought by him from England, in consequence of his hurried departure, every nerve had to be strained, and every resource called into existence, to enable him to overcome his difficulties in lack of material.

On the 8th of March, at 11 A.M., the temperature in the shade having been a couple of hours previously at 41 deg. below zero, and mercury solid in the open air, we were delighted to see a solitary drop of water trickle down the black paint of the "Pioneer's" side: at that moment, oddly enough, the temperature in the shade was 36 deg.—, and in the sun the thermometer only rose to 2 deg. below zero! Water, however, it undoubtedly was, and as such we cheerfully hailed it, to prove the increasing heat of the sun, and to promise a coming summer. All March was a scene of constant business, diversified with sledge parades and amusing military evolutions, recalling to our minds unpleasant recollections of sweltering field-days and grand parades.

Having briefly touched upon the leading incidents connected with our winter, and brought events up to the preparations for a search on foot, it may not here be out of place to give a brief sketch of the causes which had brought about the necessity for so many Englishmen to be sojourning in these inclement regions, as well as occasioned the voyage of that distinguished navigator whose squadron we hoped to rescue.

The seamen of Northern Europe, the Norsemen and Scandinavians, seem, from the earliest records extant, to have sought for the glory attendant upon braving the perils of Polar Seas. From A.D. 860 to 982, from the sea-rover Naddod's discovery of Iceland, to Eirek "of the Red Hand's" landing on Greenland, near Hergolf's Ness, neither wreck, disaster, nor tempest, checked the steady, onward march of their explorations; robbing, as they eventually did a century afterwards, the immortal Genoese of one half his honours, by actually landing, under the pirate Biarni, on the new continent south of the river St. Lawrence.

In Greenland, a hardy race, the descendants of the Northland warriors, appear to have multiplied; for, in A.D. 1400, a flourishing colony stood on this threshold of the new world; converted to Christianity, the cathedral of Garda had been constructed, and the archives in Iceland proved it to have been successively held by no less than seventeen bishops; the colonies were known under the general terms of East and West Bygd (Bight), and numbered in all sixteen parishes, and two hundred and eighty farms, numerously populated.

[Headnote: NORTH-WEST DISCOVERY.]

Strict commercial monopoly, and the naturally secluded position of the Scandinavian colony in Greenland, seemed to have occasioned its perfect decadence, or, otherwise, as traditions tell us, a sudden hostile inroad of the Esquimaux swept off the isolated Europeans: from either cause there remained, after the lapse of two centuries, but the moss-covered ruins of a few churches, some Runic inscriptions, and the legends of the Esquimaux, who talked of a tall, fair-haired race, their giants of old.

The heirloom of the northern pirates, the dominion of the sea, passed, however, into England's hands, and with it that same daring love of the difficult and unknown, which had led the Viking from conquest to conquest: and whilst southern Europe sought for the wealth of the Indies in the more genial regions of the south, English seamen pushed their barks to the west, in the boisterous seas of high northern latitudes. Confining myself purely to those who essayed the passage to Cathay Cipango, and the Indies, by the north-west, first on the glorious scroll stands Frobisher. That sturdy seaman of Elizabeth's gallant navy, on the 11th of July, 1576, with three craft, whose united burden only amounted to seventy-five tons,—this "proud admiral" sighted the east coast of Greenland, in 61 deg. north latitude. Unable to approach it for ice, which then, as now, hampers the whole of that coast, he was next blown by a gale far to the south-west on to the coast of Labrador, reaching eventually to 63 deg. north latitude, and landing in Frobisher's Straits. He extricated his vessels with difficulty, and returned home, carrying a quantity of mica, which was mistaken for gold; and awakening the cupidity of the court, nobles, and merchants, three more expeditions sailed, exhibiting laudable courage and skill, but adding little to our geographical knowledge.

Such a succession of miscarriages damped the ardour for north-west discovery for a while; until, in 1535, "divers worshipful merchants of London, and the West country, moved by the desire of advancing God's glory, and the good of their native land," equipped "John Davis" for a voyage of discovery to the unknown regions of the north-west.

Piteous as were his hardships—doleful as were his tales of the "lothsome view of y^e shore, and y^e irksome noyse of y^e yce," "y^e stinking fogs and cruelle windes" of Desolation Land—the seamen of that day seemed each to have determined to see and judge for himself, and ably were they supported by the open-handed liberality of wealthy private individuals, and the corporation of London merchants; whose minds, if we may judge of them by such men as Sir John Wolstenholme, Digges, Jones, and others, soared far above Smithfield nuisances and committees on sewers. After Davis we see Waymouth, then Hudson, who perished amid the scenes of his hardships and honours. Captains Button and Bylot, followed by the ablest, the first of Arctic navigators—Baffin,—he sweeping, in one short season, round the great bay which records his fame, showed us of the present day the high-road to the west; and did more; for he saw more of that coast than we modern seamen have yet been able to accomplish. Lastly, in that olden time, we have the sagacious and quaint Nor-West Fox, carrying our flag to the head of Hudson's Bay; whilst James's fearful sufferings in the southern extreme of the same locality, completed, for a while, the labours of British seamen in these regions.

[Headnote: ENGLISH N.W. DISCOVERIES.]

A lull then took place, perhaps occasioned by the granting of a charter to certain noblemen and merchants in 1668, under the title of "Governor and Company of Adventurers of England," trading into Hudson's Bay, with the understanding that the discovery of a north-west passage was to be persevered in by them. During a century, they accomplished, by their servants, "Hearne and Mackenzie,"—the former in 1771, and the latter in 1789,—the tracing of the Copper-mine and the Mackenzie rivers to their embouchures into an arctic sea in the 70 deg. parallel of north latitude; whilst a temporary interest, on the part of Great Britain, during the reign of George the Third, occasioned two names, dear to every seaman's recollection, to be associated with the accomplishment of geographical discovery in the same direction: the one was Nelson, who served with Captain Phipps, afterwards Lord Mulgrave, in his attempt to pass over the Pole; and the other, the greatest of English navigators—Cook, who, in 1776, failed to round the American continent by coming to the eastward from Behring's Straits.

At the commencement of the current century, our knowledge of the northern coast of the American continent amounted to a mere fraction. On the west, Cook had hardly penetrated beyond Behring's Straits; and on the east, Hudson's and Baffin's Bay formed the limit of our geographical knowledge; except at two points, where the sea had been seen by Hearne and Mackenzie.

Shortly after the Peace, one whose genius and ability were only to be equalled by his perseverance, the late Sir John Barrow, Secretary of the Admiralty, turned his attention to Arctic discovery, and especially the north-west passage. He had himself been to Spitzbergen, and as far north as the 80th parallel of latitude. Combating the prejudiced, convincing the doubtful, and teaching the ignorant, he awakened national pride and professional enterprise in a cause in which English seamen had already won high honours, and Great Britain's glory was especially involved. What difficulties he mastered, and how well he was seconded by others, and none more so than by the enlightened First Lord of the Admiralty, Viscount Melville, Sir John Barrow himself has told, in the able volumes which imperishably chronicle the deeds of ancient and modern explorers in Polar regions. Since 1818, with the exception of Sir John Ross's first voyage, we may have been said to have constantly added to our knowledge of the north-west.

It was in 1819 that Parry sailed to commence that magnificent series of discoveries which, since completed by Franklin, Richardson, Beechey, the Rosses, Back, Simpson, and Rae, have left us, after thirty-five years of well-spent toil and devotion, in perfect possession of the geographical features of Arctic America, and added three thousand six hundred and eighty miles of coast-line to our Polar charts. Is this nothing? If the mere quid pro quo is required of public servants, surely the Arctic navigator has far better repaid to his country the pay and food he has received at her hands than those who, in a time of universal peace, idle through year after year of foreign service in her men-of-war; and most assuredly, if we are proud of our seamen's fame and our naval renown, where can we look for nobler instances of it than amongst the records of late Arctic voyages and journeys. The calm, heroic sufferings of Franklin,—always successful, let the price be what it would; the iron resolution of Richardson; Back's fearful winter march to save his comrades; the devoted Hepburn, who, old though he be, could not see his former leader perish without trying to help him, and, whilst I write these lines, is again braving an Arctic winter in the little "Prince Albert;" Parry, who knew so well to lead and yet be loved; James Ross, of iron frame, establishing, by four consecutive years of privation and indomitable energy, that high character which enabled him to carry an English squadron to the unvisited shores of Victoria Land at the southern pole; and lastly, the chivalrous men, who, again under Franklin, have launched, in obedience to their Queen and country, into the unknown regions between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, to execute their mission or fall in the attempt.

[Headnote: NORTH-WEST DISCOVERY.]

It was to save these devoted servants, that the spring of 1851 saw full 500 British and American seamen within the frigid zone. That portion of them that had come by Baffin's Bay had been so far successful in their mission, that they had dispelled all the visions—gratuitous enough—of Franklin having perished by shipwreck or other disaster in his passage across the bay.

We had seen his winter quarters; we had seen his lookout posts, and the trail of his explorations. They all said, Onward! To be sure, we did not at once know by which route he had gone onward. The uncertainty, however, gave a spur to those about to be engaged in the searching parties, and each man thought there were especial reasons for believing one particular route to be the true one. The majority—indeed all those who gave the subject any consideration—believed Franklin to have gone either by Cape Walker, or to the north-west by Wellington Channel.

Hope, thank God, rode high in every breast, and already did the men begin to talk of what they would do with their new shipmates from the "Erebus" and "Terror" when they had them on board their respective ships: and I have no doubt they would have done as one gallant fellow replied, when I asked him if he thought himself equal to dragging 200 lbs., "O yes, sir, and Sir John Franklin too, when we find him."

Increasing light, decreasing cold, plenty to do, and certain anticipations upon each man's part, that he would be the fortunate one to find and save Franklin, made the month of April come in on us before we had time to think of it, but not before we were ready.

The original intention was for the sledges to have started on the different routes laid down by our commodore on the 8th of April; but a fall of temperature on the 6th altered this plan, and a delay of one week was decided upon. I therefore availed myself of the occasion to visit Captain Penny's winter quarters; proceeding there on the dog-sledge of Mr. Petersen, who happened to be on board our vessel at the time.