Taissumani: June 11, 1848 — The fate of Sir John Franklin

KENN HARPER

Sir John Franklin was as inept an explorer as the Arctic has ever seen. The commander of an expedition of two ships that left England in 1847 to search for the fabled Northwest Passage, he gives a whole new meaning to the word “lost.” For Franklin became lost, not just in the sense that he didn’t know where he was — in fact he may very well have known exactly where he was — no, Franklin become irrevocably and irretrievably lost, so that no-one else knew where he was and no-one could succeed in rescuing him.

John Franklin, born in England, joined the Royal Navy at the age of 14. But in May of 1815, with the Napoleonic Wars drawing to an end, he found himself discharged. Three years later, the Admiralty, under the determined leadership of its second secretary, John Barrow, became interested in exploring the Arctic and finding a passage to the Pacific, either through what we now know as the Northwest Passage or over the North Pole. Franklin was given command of a ship, the Trent, as part of a two-ship expedition under the command of David Buchan. They attempted, unsuccessfully, to cross the Arctic Ocean but were stopped, prophetically, by impenetrable ice north of Spitsbergen. Franklin and impassable ice — it was a theme that would recur.

In 1819, Franklin left for the Arctic again, this time in charge of a land expedition sent by the Admiralty to explore the north coast of America eastward from the mouth of the Coppermine River to Hudson Bay. That expedition eventually descended the Coppermine, thereby confirming Samuel Hearne’s earlier account of reaching the Arctic Ocean.

The expedition met some of its objectives, but did not come anywhere close to reaching Hudson Bay. One member, Robert Hood, was murdered, and his murderer, an Iroquois boatman, was in turn executed. George Simpson, the outspoken governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company, had little regard for Franklin, his failure to adapt to Arctic conditions and his inflexible approach. He wrote that Franklin “has not the physical powers required for the labour of moderate voyaging in this country; he must have three meals per diem, tea is indispensable, and with the utmost exertion he cannot walk above eight miles in one day, so that it does not follow [that] if those gentlemen are unsuccessful that the difficulties are insurmountable.”

But he had shown one quality that impressed the Admiralty — courage. Perhaps they didn’t recognize the fine line between that sterling quality and its tragic counterpart — foolhardiness.

And so in 1825 he was back in the Arctic again on another overland expedition. He built his winter quarters at a fort that he named for himself on the shores of Great Bear Lake. This time they reached the Arctic Ocean via the mighty Mackenzie River. Franklin’s party then went westward to map the coast, while another party traveled eastward. By the fall of 1827 he was back in the comfort of England.

Franklin’s next major posting was as lieutenant governor of Tasmania, then known as Van Diemen’s Land, a penal colony south of Australia. When he returned home in 1844, he was given the command of the Erebus and Terror, to leave the following year for the Northwest Passage. At 58, he was too old for the task, and much more out of shape than when he had met George Simpson almost 30 years earlier.

Franklin’s was the best-provisioned Arctic expedition to that time. His two ships carried 134 men and supplies for three years. They left England amidst much fanfare and great expectations in May of 1845 and were last seen by whalers in northern Baffin Bay on July 26. And then, silence. John Franklin was never heard from again and no trace was found of his lost expedition for five years.

A huge search effort resulted — 30 expeditions during the 12 years from 1847 to 1859. In that year, on King William Island, William Hobson, a member of Francis Leopold McClintock’s expedition, found a message in a cylinder at the base of a cairn. The paper had been signed by James Fitzjames, captain of the Erebus, and by Francis Crozier, who had been captain of the Terror. It presented the facts starkly — that both ships had been deserted on April 22, 1848, having been beset in the ice for over a year. It went on to say that “Sir John Franklin died on 11th June 1847; and the total loss by deaths in the Expedition has been to this date 9 officers & 15 men.”

Ice had once again proven to be John Franklin’s nemesis. The rest of his men perished. His ships have never been found. McClintock’s expedition solved the fate of Franklin himself, but left unanswered many other questions about the expedition.

The Franklin mystery continues to consume the passions of many Arctic historians and adventurers. They want to know what happened to the ships, where (if at all) the records were cached, why and where all the men died. A century and half later, small expeditions head annually to the central Canadian Arctic in search of the rest of the story of this incredibly inept but “pious, diffident, gentle” man.

Taissumani: A Day in Arctic History recounts a specific event of historic interest, whose anniversary is in the coming week. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.