Tag: Belcher Expedition

Commander Leopold McClintock tours Beechey Island in 1854 and creates the first photographic record of the Canadian Arctic

Beechey Island, Nunavut, (Iluvialuit) is an important site connected to both the Sir John Franklin Expedition (1845) and the period of searching for the lost crews of HMS Erebus and Terror. In August 1854 Commander F.L. McClintock captured the earliest known photographic depictions of the Canadian Arctic at Beechey. For anyone interested in this era of Arctic exploration, the ruins, cairns, memorials, and graves can become touchstones to the lost Franklin crewmembers and to the other sites of the ill-fated Expedition. In this post we will travel back in time to the critical moment in the creation of the built environment of the Beechey Island National Historic Site.1 We will also digitally reconstitute an incredible collection that has been dispersed across at least two continents. Join us as we accompany McClintock on his photographic expedition: A tour of Beechey in four amazing photographs!

HMS North Star at Beechey Island, August 1854 (Photograph # 1). The squat shape of Northumberland House and the high pyramid of tins and tent at right are notable. Courtesy of Douglas Wamsley

Arctic history scholar Douglas Wamsley holds in his personal collection two historically important photographs, the earliest depictions of Beechey Island Sites National Historic Site of Canada. These were taken in an era when the crews of five exploration ships – Sir Edward Belcher’s Expedition – were engaged in the most extensive official effort to find the missing crews of Sir John Franklin’s Expedition that would ever be mounted. In their 1996 Polar Record article “Early Photographers of the Arctic,” William Barr and Doug Wamsley identified the photographer of these two views as Royal Navy Commander F. Leopold McClintock (1819-1907).2 They connected the two photos to his journal entries, and dated the first photo as having been most likely taken on 12 August 1854. McClintock – a veritable “go anywhere do anything” phenom of Arctic exploration – had commanded HMS Intrepid.

The explorer behind the camera! Sir Francis Leopold McClintock, ca. 1860 [detail of] in a captain’s uniform wearing the Arctic Medal. From Cheyne / Pound engraving. Credit: Library and Archives Canada, Acc. No. 1939-150-1  (removed from 1860 Illustrated London News).

Accompanying HMS Resolute (Capt. Henry Kellett) as a steam tender on the western arm of the Belcher searches, both ships were beset in ice, with no guarantee crews could extricate them. The northern arm of the searches also being iced-in, Belcher ordered Kellett and McClintock to abandon their ships during May 1854 and return to Beechey. After sledging back eastwards over the still-frozen channels and straits, they were welcomed with cheers from the crew of HMS North Star, the Expedition’s depot ship, which was under the command of William John Samuel Pullen.3 Resolute’s Assistant Carpenter, William Mumford, worked up a view of the overall scene which they encountered on their arrival, 28 May 1854. This watercolour helps us contextualize McClintock’s subsequent photographic expeditions. North Star is shown locked in ice and pointed northeast into the Bay.4

HMS North Star, dated May 1854, by Assistant Carpenter William Mumford. This remarkable view from the end of May shows the beset vessel under Beechey’s imposing and bleak cliffs. Ashore, Northumberland House, the storehouse the Belcher crews built, and a large boat which is likely Sir John Ross’s rescue yacht Mary, are visible. This was drawn before the installation of the cenotaph. [Detail of] LAC 1986-18-27
“Arctic Sea. Barrow Strait. Erebus Bay” Beechey Island and surroundings as surveyed by WJS Pullen, including annotations of ship locations, depth soundings in fathoms, and extent of ice [cropped and modified with photograph location annotations relevant to this post] created in 1854 and modified in 1876. Note that the 1,000 yard canal that crew cut between July and August 1854 to free HMS North Star is indicated. Credit: Library and Archives Canada R11630-3259-1-E

Having returned to Beechey without a ship, and not being then engaged in long-distance sledging (which he excelled at), McClintock decided to take up the role of “quasi-official” Belcher Expedition photographer. Before the Expedition departed England, HMS Resolute’s surgeon, William T. Domville, had originally been trained on taking photographic negatives using a camera obscura and developing them into prints using the calotype process. Domville took a few early photos in Greenland in 1852.5 It appears likely the camera was then stowed away for two years. Wamsley and Barr note that McClintock began taking pictures in early August 1854, and soon gained confidence with the apparatus and the complicated chemical treatment and development process.6 Despite the incredible challenges involved in producing an 1850s photographic record in the Arctic, McClintock even tried his hand at portraiture, capturing some of his companions (more on that below).

A camera obscura of French design, which resembles something similar to what McClintock would have used at Beechey. The Chevalier lens has two settings: Portrait and Landscape. Credit: Matilda Talbot. Science Museum Group © The Board of Trustees of the Science Museum, London CCBY 4.0.

Let’s journey back to Beechey as it existed then, to accompany McClintock on his photographic excursions. In early August 1854 the explorer, now firmly in command of the northernmost example of one of Her Majesty’s cameras, struggled west across the uneven ice from HMS North Star towards the Island. He most likely led a small shore party to assist him in hefting the heavy camera and tripod. Having ascended the rocky beach, past some of the new construction the North Star crew had completed over the last two years, he tucked himself under the soaring, fortress-like cliffs, and pointed the apparatus towards the east, back across Erebus and Terror Bay (see the annotated map above).

Laid out before him was an incredible Arctic vista: The frozen bay stretched into the distance, with an almost incandescent glare rising off the ice. Above the far shore, the bulk of Devon Island (Tallurutit) extended out towards Cape Riley, whose grand headland would be just to the right of the frame. It was a view that the lost men of the Franklin Expedition would have been completely familiar with, as they had overwintered near this same spot 1845-46. The actual moment of capture was probably not attended with much drama–no flash like a cannon’s discharge, no crashing report like a musket volley fired over a crew members’ burial. Yet by removing the lens cap for a few moments, McClintock had yet again triumphed in the northern latitudes. As light passed through the lens and into the camera chamber, an image was projected and recorded onto a sheet of chemically-treated, light-sensitive writing paper placed at the back of the camera. Another wonder of the Victorian age had arrived in the Arctic! The process pioneered by William Henry Fox Talbot would have involved McClintock treating the paper with noxious chemicals before leaving North Star, perhaps having started the first washes and sensitizing steps in an improvised darkroom deep in the ship (sheltered from the 24-hour sunshine). The stages of photography and print-making can be seen in the youtube tutorial from the Victoria and Albert Museum:

Opening the lens allowed for the image of this unique scene to be transmitted onto the sensitized paper that had been loaded into the back of the camera.7 At a later moment, another treatment process in the darkroom was used to develop this now-exposed negative and fix the image in place. Through a similar (though simpler) chemical process used to prepare calotype negatives, another sheet of sensitized paper would be physically pressed beneath the negative and exposed to sunlight via contact printing. This would create a positive version of the image. These positive variants are commonly known as salted paper-prints. They display a characteristic fuzziness – from the paper-to-paper printing process- while the printed image takes on sepia-like tones.7 Here was the great advance in photography over daguerrotypes: a film developer could use the process to create MANY salted paper-prints from the single calotype negative.

Detail of photo #1, showing HMS North Star, with wash hanging to dry, and what is likely the ship’s rudder hanging from the stern davits. In the foreground is the low-pitched roof of Northumberland House, a high flagstaff and signal mast, and the newly-erected cenotaph to the lost Franklin searchers. Precise cross-referencing of details of the construction with Mumford’s journal entries indicates the image could date from 1-12 August, 1854. Courtesy of Douglas Wamsley

On this first print, Northumberland House appears in the left foreground as a squat roofed-over structure. This depot or Arctic storehouse had been built over the 1852-1854 summers by the crew of North Star. Captain Kellett, McClintock, and the Resolute and Intrepid crews had built a similar structure at Dealey Island.8 The house had not yet been ringed by a low wall to the north and west, which is much in evidence during Allen Young’s 1875 Pandora visit.9 To the right, a signal mast – complete with stays and a topmast – is rigged near to the shoreline, with another shorter staff standing nearer to the House.10 In the near foreground, the brand-new monument or “Franklin Cenotaph,” is conspicuous, wearing its original somber coat of black. It had been shaped by Mumford and the other carpenters from the pawl bitt of the lost whaling ship McLellan’s windlass, and raised at the very end of July. The photograph may have actually been taken on the first or second of August, when crew were paving round the monument, but had not yet finished walling in the casks on the west and north sides of the House.11 This is the only image we will likely ever see of this important cenotaph before the Joseph René Bellot memorial was affixed to the front of the pedestal at the end of that August.12

The original Joseph René Bellot memorial plaque, which would be affixed to the Franklin Cenotaph days after McClintock took his photographs. Courtesy Nunavut Archives.

There is a pyramid of tins in the right foreground, while a tent (most likely a marquee tent raised in mid-July to prepare the site for the arrival of Captain Belcher from the still-beset HMS Assistance) had been pitched to the right. Just off the beach rests the considerable bulk of a three-masted sailing vessel in good focus. A motionless ship sailing a static sea makes for an ideal subject, given the technical limitations of 1850s photography.13 North Star was locked in ice, with masts all up but no sails bent on the yards. Though the scene has few crew members depicted, one gets the sense of industrious bustle ashore from casks lined up on the far side of Northumberland House, and what appears to be a line of boats aft of North Star. Wamsley and Barr noted that there was visible evidence at the bows that crew had commenced cutting the ice around the bows with ice saws. By the crew’s exertions cutting and parbuckling the ice, North Star had been turned with her bows now pointing south towards the open waters of the Barrow Strait.

Photo # 2: taken from an elevated position onboard HMS North Star. Northumberland House appears to left, while the low ground between Beechey and Devon Islands, and the historic Franklin Expedition graves, are at centre [cropped] Courtesy of Douglas Wamsley

The second photo used in this post was taken from onboard the North Star, in a northwesterly direction. It shows a distant and indistinct view of the shores of Beechey Island and the land bridge stretching around the bay to Devon Island. Northumberland House can be seen on the near shore. The House appears at a greater distance from the ship than in the first photo. It seems reasonable to assume this was taken days later, as North Star was gradually hauled south towards the edge of the ice. The ice appears disrupted in the foreground, suggesting the route the crew had already cut. Some black flecks at the very center of the photo may hint at the Franklin crewmembers grave boards, our next stop!

Up until a few years ago, these two prints comprised the entire extent of McClintock’s Arctic photography. That has changed over the last few years, starting with the digitization and uploading of a another salted paper print of the Franklin crewmembers’ graves located in the Gell family album at the Derbyshire Record Office (DRO). Franklin scholar Russell Potter has written an interesting contextual post about the discovery of this mysterious photograph, which we will identify here as photograph #3.14

Photo # 3: Salted paper print of the Beechey Island Franklin graves, located in the Gell family album about the Franklin searches, and likely taken by Leopold McClintock, August 1854. The graves are (L to R) William Braine, John Hartnell, John Torrington. Credit: Derbyshire Record Office (D8760/F/LIB/10/1/1) used with written permission.

It now seems likely that McClintock did what any modern visitor to Beechey equipped with a camera would do: He walked about 1.5 kilometers up the beach and snapped the first known photo of those famous graves, which, after all, contained the only Franklin crewmembers that any searchers had (as of 1854) yet located.15 Two important details link the McClintock prints to this mysterious DRO print of the three Franklin crew members’ graves: Erebus and Terror Bay (the shoreline to the right) is a blinding expanse of frozen ice, but there is no snow on the rocky ground.16 The dimensions of the three prints are also similar, which is consistent with having been created by the same camera apparatus.17 Since Domville is believed to have stopped taking photographs after the departure from Greenland, there is also, to date, no other known photographer using a camera combined with the calotype development process that was active in the area at this time.

Wamsley and Barr noted (in 1996) that none of McClintock’s calotype portraits from mid-August 1854 had ever been located.18 I believe we may now also have one example of this series, which, according to the journals of both McClintock and George Ford (ship’s carpenter from HMS Investigator), were taken on 21 August 1854, on the deck of North Star.19 Recently, an item came up for sale on ebay with a strong Beechey 1854 connection: A seated portrait of an officer of the mid-nineteenth century Royal Navy (photograph #4). Notations below the print indicate it to have been taken in 1850 aboard HMS North Star, before “Father” departed on an Admiralty search for Sir John Franklin in the Arctic region. “Remembering the Franklin Expedition” Facebook group member Conner Nelson noted a strong resemblance to Cmdr. W.J.S. Pullen.20 The portrait appears consistent with an unwaxed positive, salted paper-print, from a calotype negative taken using the camera’s portrait lens setting (or possibly a separate lens formatted for portraits).

Photo # 4: Master T.C. Pullen, most likely onboard HMS North Star, wearing the undress tailcoat and epaulettes of a Royal Navy officer, via ebay.com

I believe this portrait was most likely taken onboard North Star by McClintock in that high Arctic summer of 1854. I also believe it depicts W.J.S. Pullen’s brother, Thomas. W.J.S. had been appointed Commander while away on his first expedition searching for Franklin in 1850, two years before he was appointed to command North Star. For this new search effort, he would be accompanied by his younger brother, Thomas C. Pullen, who served in the role of Master (a senior warrant officer). Though I have not been able to examine the portrait in person, it is unique from the contemporary image that the engraving of the Belcher Expedition commanders is based off in The Illustrated London News.21 In contrast to his older brother, T.C. appears to be the right age. He is depicted in the pre-1856 undress uniform of an officer.22 Masters in the Royal Navy had recently been granted the authority to wear the epaulettes of a junior officer, which in this era were unadorned with the distinctive anchors, crowns, or pips worn by commanders and more senior officers. Where precisely was this calotype portrait taken? My familiarity with North Star’s layout and plans leads me to suggest one likely place: Just to the side of the ship’s wheel, tucked under a “poop” deck that, uniquely of all Belcher Expedition ships, North Star was equipped with.23

Our research has established that this plan depicts the 1851 modifications to HMS North Star in advance of the Belcher Expedition. T.C. Pullen would have been sitting just on the side of the ship’s wheel tucked under the poop deck, about 1/4 of the way from the stern (left). ZAZ5516 © Crown copyright. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London

Though the louvered door is similar to the style of door found in an earlier illustration of North Star‘s flag locker (depicted prior to the James Saunders’ supply expedition this was located directly over the transom at the very stern), it is my belief this door led directly into “Officer’s country” – the decked-over passage and cabins at the stern that held the berthing for the Pullen brothers and the other officers.24 This would have been an ideal setting for McClintock to utilize a portrait lens (or a dual setting lens like the Chevalier lens fitted to the above Science Museum, London, artifact).25 The series of portraits captured by McClintock on 21 August may have been intended for a celebratory purpose: on that day, North Star crew finally cut through or blasted with explosive charges the final stretch of the more than 1,000 yard canal southwards and arrived at the edge of the floe. North Star had survived two punishing winters at Beechey, and could now escape the Arctic. T.C. Pullen’s 1854 journal entries record his titanic efforts – despite illness and profound weariness – to spur his crew on to free the ship from an icy grave.26

HMS North Star reconstruction 1852-54 [detail of] for information on my reconstruction of this original “Arctic Juggernaut”, and stern/bow elevations, as well as sources and other illustrations, please see our post. The TC Pullen photo would be taken just under the break of the poop. Credit: http://www.warsearcher.com

The depot ship was now burdened by supernumeraries from five abandoned Franklin search ships: Investigator, Resolute, Assistance, Intrepid, Pioneer. Just before departure, a strange sail to the east resolved itself into Edward Augustus Inglefield’s trim steamer, HMS Phoenix and the storeship Talbot. Onboard the steamer was the distinctive plaque to the memory of Bellot, to be affixed to the front of the monument, and – relevant to our photographic survey – a new generation of camera: a glass-plate camera employing the vastly superior wet collodion process. The age of the calotype photographic process had arrived and now departed from the shores of Beechey Island! Thank you for accompanying McClintock and I onboard HMS North Star, and out onto the rugged landscape of Beechey Island, these seventeen decades ago!

Acknowledgements: I would like to thank Douglas Wamsley for his support and advice and for reviewing an early version of this post, and Russell Potter for facilitating our contact last December. Library and Archives Canada Audiovisual Specialist Anitta Martignago generously shared her expertise about calotype negatives and salted paper-prints: She has actually taken and developed calotypes herself! Sylvia Wright, a direct descendant of Sir Leopold McClintock, also provided feedback. The Derbyshire Record Office staff provided additional information and kindly consented to the usage of the Beechey grave print.

ENDNOTES:

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The Atholl Corvettes: Supporting the Franklin Searches in Style

One class of Royal Navy vessel is connected to the search for the missing Sir John Franklin Expedition of 1845, and you’ve likely never heard of it! The Atholl class of corvettes were built two decades before Franklin’s Northwest Passage Expedition sailed, at the same time as HMS Erebus, Franklin’s lead ship. Four members of the class, HMS Rattlesnake, Herald, Talbot, and North Star participated in search efforts for the missing crews. In this post we explore the design of these ships and the Arctic service of three members of the class. A future post will reconstruct HMS North Star’s unique refitting and summarize her important career.

A half-hull model of Atholl class HMS Rainbow (1823) SLR0706 Credit: National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London.

What is so special about these ships? Arctic and Antarctic exploration vessels were heavily-adapted to survive difficult conditions at the high latitudes. Exploration ships were under a different type of attack these warships had been designed for. Hulls required strengthening and fortification to serve in a chaotic environment characterized by ice floes; icebergs; bergy bits; growlers; land ice and pack ice. A ship overwintering–frozen-in to the pack–was subjected to prolonged pressures, or sharp, intense “nipping,” as the ice shifted. Exploration/discovery vessels in this period were about 100-120’ long on deck and displaced 500 tons or less. The Atholl class fits these general parameters, but its design lineage was not from the stout hulls of the bomb vessels, like HMS Terror, Hecla, Fury and Erebus. With the disappearance of these “bombs”, the Admiralty moved to searching for the lost Franklin crews with heavily converted merchant hulls: HMS Enterprise, Investigator, Assistance, Resolute.

The handsome lines of the original Atholl class design from 1817 © Crown copyright. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London ZAZ3213

The Atholls were a different species altogether. Their full gundecks speak to their intended role: general-purpose warships. These 28-gun corvettes were designed just after the Napoleonic Wars had concluded. They fit into a category often called “donkey frigates” – corvettes that took on some of the duties of the more expensive to operate frigates – but they would have been considered light frigates in an earlier era. The original plans for the lead ship, Atholl, were co-signed by an important design team: Surveyors of the Navy Henry Peake, Joseph Turner, and Robert Seppings. Peake had designed the Vesuvius and Hecla class bomb vessels (HMS Terror and Erebus), while Seppings was implementing wide-ranging changes to the designs of all classes of ships. In contrast to the full bilges, rounded tumblehome, and sweeping sheer of 18th Century ships, Atholls had steeply rising floors (a “V-shaped lower hull), a distinctive flat rise at the waterline, and almost flat sheer along the length of the decks. In the early years of the 19th century, these were state-of-the-art design features. Above the deck, three towering masts supported the spars, cordage, and canvas of a three-masted, fully-rigged ship.

A rare rigging plan of an Atholl class dated 1844, from the collection of the National Maritime Museum. This unnamed ship was being converted to a troop ship, and shows the simplified rig of a barque, likely to have been used on many of the converted ships. In comparison to the earlier plan, the outline of the hull shows the building up of stern and bows. ZAZ5511© Crown copyright. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London

For their main armament, they were fitted with a modern, versatile battery of guns. Their gundeck was fitted with twenty heavy “smashers”: 32-pound carronades. This gave the class an outsized weight of broadside.1 Compared to the older “long guns” – traditional cannon – carronades were lighter and took less crew to work, but did not have the same range to strike more distant targets. The ships also had 9-pounder bow-chaser cannon and lighter carronades on the quarterdeck. While the bomb-vessels had been built to withstand the strain of firing their two massive mortars at land targets, the Atholls were designed to withstand the firing strain of broadsides of 32 and 18-pounder carronades.

A useful contrast between a carronade (near) and a cannon. These guns are located at the Dom Fernando II e Glória (1845) Portuguese frigate at Lisbon. Credit: GualdimG, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Fourteen ships were built in the period 1821-1828. Some of the class had been constructed in the East Indies, with design changes based on the availability of exotic timber and a shortage of iron knees.2 Three of these – Rattlesnake, Samarang, and Crocodile – appear to have had a second row of stern galleries (windows), at the level of the quarterdeck. At a time when decoration was being simplified or removed altogether, this odd arrangement for a warship made them appear similar to East India Company merchant ships.

Rattlesnake June 1849 watercolor by her captain, Owen Stanley, Public domain, Voyage of H.M.S. Rattlesnake Album: Vol. I, Old Collection of David Scott Mitchell (1836-1907), p. 84 (imag. 487084) Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales (PXC 281, IE 3174589), Australia. via Wikimedia Commons

The Atholls served in some notable actions. HMS Talbot played an important role at the last great battle under sail, Navarino (1827), during the Greek War of Independence, and was also present at the 1840 Bombardment of Acre. North Star and Herald served in the First Anglo-Chinese or “Opium” War. In 1845-46, North Star was operating at New Zealand during the Flagstaff War at the same time the Franklin ships were overwintering at Beechey Island.

The Allied fleet at Navarino, 20 Oct. 1827. Reinagle, George Philip; P. & D. Colnaghi & Co Ltd; Plate 9. HMS Talbot is the ship firing at left near a burning hulk. Note the characteristic built-up look to the stern of the Atholl ships. Credit: National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London PAF4856

During their long careers, these ships proved to be very adaptable to new roles. They could be provisioned to serve out of distant posts of the British Empire, and could be quickly converted to carry troops. Units of the class got a new lease on life when many were converted to survey or depot/supply ships. Some common modifications appear from the 1830s on. Decoration at the bows and stern was minimized, and most of the armament was removed. The spaces of the old weather-deck were enclosed to form new focs’l and quarterdeck accommodation. The officer’s cabins and wardroom were extended, and the captain’s great cabin was moved up a deck to the newly-enclosed area aft. In some cases this building-up and decking-over created what in essence is a pint-sized two-decker. Later still, the ships were converted to a variety of rolls, such as receiving ships, supply ships, storehouses, or storage hulks. HMS Talbot’s final service, as a gunpowder hulk, is visually documented because of her proximity to the site of the tragic 1878 Princess Alice sinking. The last of the class known to exist was the former HMS Nimrod, scrapped in 1908.

Recovering victims of the Princess Alice disaster. Talbot in use as a gunpowder storage hulk at right (in other views the hulk has enormous “GUNPOWDER” lettering). Unlike other views, this shows the powder hulk still having a clearly defined bow and stern. The Collision on the Thames, 14 September 1878, The Graphic, Page 4 JR Brown, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Let’s briefly explore the Franklin search-related efforts of three of the class:3

HMS Rattlesnake (1822): Rattlesnake played a minor role in the Franklin search efforts. She was commissioned on 28 December 1852 by Commander Henry Trollope (with a compliment of 80) for conveying relief supplies to the (western) Arctic ships employed in the search for Sir John Franklin’s expedition: HMS Enterprise (Richard Collinson) and HMS Investigator (Robert McClure). Rattlesnake’s captain between 1845 and 1850 had been Owen Stanley, who had served on Terror during the 1836 George Back expedition, and had accompanied her and Erebus north in 1845.

“HMS Rattlesnake” by acclaimed artist Oswald Walters Brierly, who was onboard in 1848 when Rattlesnake was under the command of Owen Stanley. Credit: National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London PAF5620

HMS Herald (1824): Captain Henry Kellett was involved in several of the western Arctic searches for the Franklin crews, from 1848 to 1850. He explored the Bering Strait (the early Admiralty assumption was that the Franklin ships may have been caught much further west along the Passage), discovered Herald Island, and in 1849 encountered HMS Investigator (Robert McClure). In the early period of searching, Kellett’s exploration complemented the searches of HMS Enterprise (James Clark Ross and later Richard Collinson) and Investigator. Herald was frequently used to resupply HMS Plover (T. E. L. Moore and then Maguire), during Plover’s six year vigil in the Pacific. In between Herald’s three forays up north, a succession of crews completed very important surveying along the Pacific coast.

This incredible 1857 photograph of HMS Herald at Sydney Harbour shows she retains her original corvette lines, full rig, and bow and stern decoration. The quarterdeck has been enclosed or decked over, as evident by the windows above the mizzen channels. She has been updated with iron davits and rails enclosing the new poop deck. The large stove pipe aft of the Foremast is evident on many plans. 79(b). H.M.S. Herald Sydney Harbour 1857, Album of views, illustrations and Macarthur family photographs, 1857-1879, PXA 4358/Vol. 1, https://collection.sl.nsw.gov.au/record/nM7lp5AY/B4xQpbaW72Xey

HMS Talbot (1824): After an active career, this veteran was converted to a storeship, to accompany Edward Augustus Inglefield’s 1854 provisioning mission to the Belcher Expedition at Beechey Island, in a similar way as Barretto Junior had helped provision the Franklin Ships in 1845.4 Unlike that ship, Talbot and Diligence (the other member of the squadron) continued on to Beechey, and were on hand to assist Inglefield’s command, HMS Phoenix, and North Star, to transport the crews of Belcher’s abandoned ships home. We are fortunate today to have a fine daguerreotype image of what Talbot looked like at this time on Inglefield’s stopover in Greenland. Talbot retains the trim appearance of a sixth-rate warship, with the characteristic updated variant of the “Nelson Chequer” of a white band picked out with black gunport lids. The transom shows some simplification, as the quarter galleries are not in evidence and the transom has been abbreviated to only five lights (windows). As with Herald above, there appears to be a building-up of the aft section to enclose new officers’ quarters.

HMS Talbot, June 1854 looking NW from Holsteinborg, Greenland. HMS Phoenix and the store ship Diligence were also depicted (cropped out from left). Phoenix’s captain, Edward Augustus Inglefield, is credited as the photographer[detail of] Credit: Captain Edward Augustus Inglefield, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons source is National Maritime Museum, Royal Museums Greenwich G4254

Please watch for our upcoming post that will explore Atholl class HMS North Star’s incredible history and design features!

  1. In an age of fighting sailing ships, whose main armament was disposed over either Port or Starboard batteries of cannon, this is the weight of broadside or “striking power” based on the notional weight of cannon balls fired from all guns in a single broadside fired from either side. Carronades gave small ships a “smashing” broadside. Atholls broadside added up to 383 pounds: (10X32lbs+3X18lbs+1X9lbs). For comparison, a roughly equivalent ship of the previous era, HMS Surprise, of Patrick O’Brien novels’ fame, had an armament of 9-pounder cannon and a total weight of broadside of 164 lbs. ↩︎
  2. See for example National Maritime Museum midships sectional drawing ZAZ3436 of Termagant (which became Herald), Samarang, Alligator which describes some differences in these East Indies built ships. An aborted plan of the 1830s would have even cut down the design to create 20-gun ships. ↩︎
  3. For an excellent primer on the bewildering number of vessels involved in various search efforts, including the ships above, please see W. Gillies Ross’s “The Type and Number of Expeditions in the Franklin Search 1847–1859,” ARCTIC Vol. 55, No. 1 (MARCH 2002) 57–69 https://pubs.aina.ucalgary.ca/arctic/Arctic55-1-57.pdf ↩︎
  4. The previous year, Inglefield had gone up accompanied by the Breadalbane store ship, which was destroyed by ice in August 1853. ↩︎

What Sir John Franklin’s High Arctic Cenotaph is Made of – A Whaler of a Tale!

A cenotaph to lost Royal Navy personnel – a National Historic Site of Canada – and archival records that show that it is made from an American shipwreck! Readers may recall the very origins of this website were to help explore and add provenance to relics and artifacts connected to Canadian military cenotaphs. So in a sense, after interpreting the history and shipwrecks connected to the lost 1845 Sir John Franklin Expedition in search of a Northwest Passage, we’ve come home!

We recently posted about the history of the “Franklin Cenotaph” at Beechey Island, Nunavut. This isolated monument is an incredibly rare memorial to the crews of the lost 1845 Sir John Franklin Expedition and the searchers who died looking for them. It is identified by Parks Canada as a “character-defining element” of the Beechey Island Sites National Historic Site of Canada. It is important to understand what the cenotaph is and what components combine to create it.

Beechey Island sites, photographed from the air in 1997. This shows the Franklin Cenotaph at the top center above the crucifix made out of empty tins. The ruins of Northumberland House (the supply depot) are down towards the beach, while other memorials are located at right. Credit: Ansgar Walk, CC BY-SA 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/, via Wikimedia Commons

The column itself, built in the arctic summer of 1854, under the direction of Captain W.J.S. Pullen, HMS North Star, is thought to be made out of the machinery of a lost American whaling ship, the McLellan. This little-known detail further solidifies the Anglo-American character of the commemorative program of the monument.1 We ended our earlier post with a series of questions we hoped could be answered about the column’s origins. We also wondered if it really could have been made out of the capstan of the McLellan, as has been reported.2 A capstan, as defined by wikipedia is “a vertical-axled rotating machine developed for use on sailing ships to multiply the pulling force of seamen when hauling ropes, cables, and hawsers.”

An image of the “Franklin Cenotaph” and surroundings (left) compared to a capstan located at Whitby, England. One origin story of the Franklin monument is that the central “Belcher Column” is made from the capstan of the American whaling ship McLellan. The model of capstan at right exposes the octagonal spindle, which more often formed the core, surrounded by a substantial drum. Credit: (left) NWT Archives/Stuart M. Hodgson fonds/N-2017-008: 0918 / (right) Neil Reed / Capstan, Whitby East Pier, 2009 via wikimedia commons.

McLellan was a 366-ton barque-rigged wooden ship which had served as a general merchant in the 1830s, but had been purchased by the firm Perkins & Smith for the bowhead whaling industry in 1846. It was homeported out of New London, Connecticut, under the command of Captain William Quayle.3 We recently had an opportunity to closely examine a work at Library and Archives Canada which depicts the July 1852 loss of this ship:

Cmdr. Walter W. May (1855) “Loss of the McLellan” (Engr. J. Needham) Credit: Library and Archives Canada, Acc. No. R9266-2137 Peter Winkworth Collection of Canadiana.

The engraving, made from a sketch by Cmdr. Walter W. May – who witnessed the events –includes many interesting details of whaling ships beset in ice near each other, and Royal Navy vessels. It also shows crew members salvaging items from a visibly-damaged ship.

Walter W. May was a gifted artist and an officer serving on HMS Assistance. This most likely depicts HMS North Star, which was nipped, but repaired, Alexander, a whaling ship, and McLellan at the far right being salvaged. [detail of op. cit.]

During the 1851 season, McLellan had been involved in a milestone in the development of the American whaling industry. Quayle had landed a shore party, led by mate Sydney O. Budington, at Nimegen Island, Cumberland Sound. This small group built a stout structure there and hunkered down to overwinter. With the assistance of local Inuit families, crew were able to live in relative comfort into 1852, trading for items and swapping their clothes for warmer furs.4

The plan was for the group to begin whaling far earlier than any ship-based crew could gain access to the area. It was a bold plan and it worked – they were able to land a huge catch of seventeen bowheads. They also became the first commercial interest to overwinter in the Canadian Arctic since the 16th Century voyages of Martin Frobisher. This shore party stayed on until September of 1852, and would eventually have to be taken off by another whaling ship.

The George Henry (1841) whaling ship. This ship was similar to McLellan, and was later commanded by both Sydney O. Budington and his uncle James Buddington. James would stumble across the abandoned Franklin search ship HMS Resolute in 1855. The prominent boarded-up port amidships is for the “cutting stage,” a relatively recent development to flense whales. Credit: Sherard Osborn, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

At the beginning of the 1852 season, McLellan, on the return voyage to the whaling grounds and to pick up Budington’s party, was one of a group of whaling ships that were beset in ice in the Davis Strait near Melville Bay. The ships were in a perilous position, between the land ice and the shifting sea floes.  Sir Edward Belcher’s Arctic Squadron, comprising HM Ships North Star, Assistance, Resolute, Pioneer, and Intrepid, were on their way up to Lancaster Sound to launch a sustained effort to locate Sir John Franklin and the crews of HMS Erebus and Terror (by this time missing for seven years). On June 20th, just as the naval squadron was coming up with the group of whalers, the veteran Kirkaldy whaling ship Regalia was crushed by ice. What followed seems unusual nowadays, but was apparently the accepted practice: The ship was quickly stripped of valuables, crew set out to find another whaler to serve in, something of a party broke out on the ice, and the hulk was burned to ensure it would not menace other ships.

In early July, McLellan ran afoul of North Star, the depot ship of the Expedition, and the Alexander, a Dundee whaler. It damaged the cathead of the North Star, and the bowprit of the Alexander. The mizzen mast of McLellan had to be cut away to avoid further damage. The American whaler was severely nipped by the encroaching ice. The crew were preparing to abandon ship and the whalers in the area looked forward to commencing the usual “sacking and burning.” Instead, Belcher purchased the damaged vessel from Captain Quayle. The Royal Navy crews set about repairing the whaler. The repairs held until the ship was nipped more forcibly on 8 July. McLellan was gradually crushed over the next week. Naval crews salvaged spars, stout timbers, fittings, machinery, and cargo from their newly-purchased hulk. Valuable items were shifted over to North Star and the search ships.

Crew members salvage boats, casks, and other items as McLellan is destroyed. [detail of op. cit.]

Two years later, these parts were a ready source of materials for the program of construction and “beautification” that Belcher and W.J.S. Pullen organized at Beechey Island, the site of the Expedition’s depot. We originally believed that the (interior) spindle of McLellan’s capstan had been transformed into the central element to the Franklin Cenotaph. At the time of our earlier post, we were concerned about one issue: not all whaling ships had capstans. For example, the most similar ship to McLellan remaining in existence, the Charles W. Morgan, isn’t fitted out with this prominent piece of machinery. To effectively operate a capstan, a ship required a large crew. Many merchant ships favoured the use of their windlasses, which could be operated with their smaller crews. A windlass, normally situated near the bows, forward or immediately aft of the foremast, is “ A mechanism operating on the same principle as the capstan, but on a horizontal axis, used on board merchant ships, and some smaller vessels of the royal Navy, for weighing the anchor, hoisting and hauling.”5

Resolute’s apprentice carpenter, William T. Mumford, the subject of our recent post, was an active participant both in the July 1852 salvage of McLellan, and in building the cenotaph during June 1854. He had just arrived back to Beechey after the mid-May abandonment of Resolute off Dealey Island. Mumford’s information, from his records at Library and Archives Canada, has helped us update the provenance of this important memorial. He wrote in his diary on Saturday, June 24th, 1854: “Midsummer Day, Light breeze from the E-N-E full in the forenoon but hazy with sleet in the afternoon. No water on the floe, and the pools on the land coated with ice. Hands cleaned main & lower decks carpenters employed trimming the Pawl Bitt of the McLellan for a monument to the memory of those who died and are buried elsewhere.“

“The Pawl Bitt of the ‘McLellan'” – WT Mumford Diary entry 24 June 1854 (not paginated). Credit: Library and Archives Canada W.T. Mumford Fonds, 1986-018 PIC.

More than almost any other member of the Belcher expedition, Mumford’s occupation and prior experiences make him the expert on the origins of the central monument at Beechey. The “Pawl Bitt” was a strong timber, normally square, that was an important part of a ship’s windlass in the era of wooden sailing ships. It supported the “pawl”, a strong ratchet that ensured that leverage gained by the rotation of the windlass barrel was not lost. The pawl bitt was a substantial structural timber that usually connected straight down to the lower deck. It also usually supported the ornamental bracket the ship’s bell was hung off. This made it an important ceremonial and commemorative site. In this case, the Belcher Expedition carpenters’ efforts at “trimming” seems to have involved carefully working the square timber into an octagonal column, creating a finial ball to surmount the column, carving out or adapting some cavity to house the idiosyncratic “postal office” plaque now located at the rear of the column, and installing the original eight dedicatory plaques to memorialize lost crew members (which are individually identified in a note in our earlier post).

As it happens, there are contemporary examples of both a capstan and a windlass less than three kilometers away from the Cenotaph, on the seafloor of the Barrow Strait! Breadalbane, whose well preserved-wreck is also part of the National Historic Site at Beechey Island, was equipped with both a capstan and a windlass, including a pawl bitt. The pawl bitt is the stout post just forward of the horizontal windlass drum, with the ratchet-like pawl angling down. There was usually a brass ship’s bell sited atop this bitt. This is our scale model interpretation of the wreck. Credit: http://www.warsearcher.com

As we hope we have shown with both posts about the “Franklin Cenotaph,” this memorial is a powerful site of memory of a great era of polar exploration history. As a very early example of a military cenotaph, it has much in common with First World War battlefield memorials. It was constructed from relics and materials on hand, by comrades who knew the lost and the missing. Ship’s Carpenter William Mumford’s diary has helped enrich the provenance of this important monument by linking it to an identified feature of the wrecked American whaling ship McLellan. We hope that visitors to Beechey Island, Nunavut, who stand in contemplation before the cenotaph can better appreciate this remarkable artifact. To paraphrase a oft-repeated inscription from other memorials: HERE SEARCHED BRAVE SAILORS – YOU WHO TREAD THEIR FOOTSTEPS REMEMBER THEIR GLORY.

  1. An inscription added later recognizes Anglo-American cooperation in the search efforts over the High Arctic. The United States participated in search efforts such as the two Grinnell expeditions, and Elisha Kent Kane’s later searches. The 1858 addition to the monument of Lady Franklin’s marble (eventually brought up by Captain Leopold McClintock) expresses the shared Anglo-American concern for establishing the fate of the Franklin crews. ↩︎
  2. The link between the Belcher column and McLellan is noted in Barr and Stein’s January 2017 article “Frederick J. Krabbé, last man to see HMS Investigator afloat, May 1854” Journal of the Hakluyt Society. (P27) The authors appear to have consulted Mumford’s diary, but mention the source of the column is McLellan’s capstan drum. ↩︎
  3. This description of McLellan’s wrecking draws extensively from information in Philip Goldring’s Jan-Feb. 1986 Beaver Magazine article “The Last Voyage of the McLellan” PP39-44. The issue is currently accessible at the Canada’s History Magazine archive: https://www.canadashistoryarchive.ca/canadas-history/canadas-history-feb-mar-2019/flipbook/1/ Captain (later Colonel) William Quayle had a remarkable life, before and after his four years with McLellan, with many notable events outlined in a 20 June 1901 Moberly Weekly Monitor profile of him: https://www.newspapers.com/article/moberly-weekly-monitor-william-quayle/66609/ that article also gives Quayle’s description of McLellan as having been a barque of 110 feet overall length, 27 feet 7 inches wide, 14 feet nine inches deep, of about 326 tons. ↩︎
  4. McLellan and the other American whalers had more diverse crews than mid-Victorian Royal Navy ships. It would be interesting to know if Budington’s shore party had brought Black whalers directly into contact with Inuit families. ↩︎
  5. “Windlass” A Sea of Words ; A Lexicon and companion for Patrick O’Brian’s Seafaring Tales (New York: Owl Books 1997) P.458. ↩︎

“Dreadful and Perilous Positions” – More Mumford Art!

Ships in desolation, in dire straits, in peril, beset, with icebergs the size of fortresses barreling down upon them. William Mumford painted what he saw, and what he saw was a lot of natural forces conspiring to destroy his ship, HMS Resolute. He was the ship’s carpenter, an important position, onboard a wooden ship surrounded by frigid water, ice, and barren rock.1

Here is more of the remarkable William T. Mumford collection of watercolours now in the custody of Library and Archives Canada.2 Please visit our recent post “A Resolute Perspective – What Mumford the Carpenter saw while searching for Franklin” for context, and the first group of artwork. Today, his little-known watercolours are a fine visual record of his 1852-1854 experiences on board Resolute, a member of the Sir Edward Belcher Expedition looking for the lost crews of Sir John Franklin. This instalment documents the transit up to Greenland and the early period of the searches. Mumford’s keen eye for detail will feature in several upcoming posts! Additional information has been supplied, mainly from passages in Mumford’s shipmate, George F. McDougall’s published journal The eventful voyage of H.M. discovery ship “Resolute” to the Arctic regions: in search of Sir John Franklin and the missing crews of H.M. discovery ships “Erebus” and “Terror.”3

“The first view of Greenland, Cape Desolation 21 May 1852” the squadron is all depicted, with Resolute and Intrepid in the foreground, passing some bergy bits. Credit: LAC 86-18-3
“The expedition at Anchor, Whalefish Islands. Taken from Kron Prins Island, Greenland May 1852.” The ships are identified (from left to right) HMS Intrepid, Resolute, North Star, Assistance, Pioneer. This view appears very similar to a calotype that Dr. William Domville, Resolute’s surgeon, captured somewhere on the Expedition. (Today in the custody of Royal Museums Greenwich P36CAL) Credit: LAC 86-18-4
“Four Top Iceberg, Wargal Straits, Greenland June 13th 1852.” These impressive bergs were encountered in Waygat or Waygate Channel. Credit: LAC 86-18-5
“Main Top Iceberg, Wargal Straits, Greenland June 13th 1852.”Credit: LAC 86-18-6
“The Resolute [left] and another ship in Perilous Position in the Ice, Melville Bay, Greenland” ca. 26 June 1852. Mumford has added some colour by showing Resolute with her distictive red band around the ice channels. George F. M’Dougall relates in his published journal that on the 26th Resolute was badly nipped between a moving flow and land ice. The ship’s bell rung on its own, the boats were dragged out to the ice, and the rudder was destroyed. The vessel at right should be Assistance, which had a single white band, was nearby, and was cutting in to an ice dock. Mumford would have been heavily involved in setting up the spare rudder. Credit: LAC 86-18-7
“The Alexander, North Star, Assistance[distant], Intrepid[distant], Resolute, Pioneer off Melville Bay, Greenland July 1852.” Given the complete absence of McLellan, a whaling ship which damaged Alexander and North Star, and the freeing of the ships, we can speculate that this is later in July. Alexander (a whaler from Dundee) accompanied the naval ships longest of the whalers. Credit: LAC 86-18-8
“Beechey Island, 629 feet” [ca. 10 Aug. 1852] Our ID of this vessel would be HMS North Star. With Erebus and Terror Bay not yet clear of ice, she is waiting on the 10th or 11th to take up her inshore position off Beechey as the expedition’s longtime depot ship. Credit: LAC 86-18-10
“The Resolute (?) in a Dreadful Position in the ice off Beechey Island (?) 16 August 1852” From M’Dougall’s diary we know that, while near Assistance Harbour on an errand to drop a whaler off at Cape Hotham, Resolute was again in peril of receiving a nip, with Intrepid nearby. Resolute (red band) and her crew has sensibly unshipped her rudder and hung it over the stern. Credit: LAC 86-18-12
“Resolute and Intrepid in Winter Quarters, Melville Island November 16th 1852” Resolute’s first overwintering location. Credit: LAC 86-18-13

  1. HMS Assistance (flagship), Intrepid, Pioneer were crushed in ice or otherwise foundered. As related in the previous Mumford post, Resolute, incredibly, drifted to discovery by whaling ships 1,900 km East. North Star survived her Beechey Island ordeals to help evacuate the other crews. Considering the marine casualties, and compared to Franklin’s two-ship Expedition, very few crew members died. ↩︎
  2. Source: Library and Archives Canada, Acc. No. 1986-18. Consulted MFL reel H-1662 and separate artwork. ↩︎
  3. George F. McDougall, Resolute’s sailing master, published his journal (1857 publication), which is available online: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=aeu.ark:/13960/t6737jj60&seq=12 ↩︎

A Resolute Perspective – what Mumford the Carpenter saw while searching for Franklin

William T. Mumford (1830 – 1908) was a young apprentice carpenter when he volunteered for service with HMS Resolute–captained by Henry Kellett–to scour the Arctic for Sir John Franklin and the missing crews of HMS Erebus and Terror (last seen by Europeans in 1845). Resolute was one of five vessels in a squadron commanded by Sir Edward Belcher. As Ship’s Carpenter, Mumford was rated a warrant officer. He kept a diary and other records of this 1852-1854 expedition. He also created a detailed visual record. He documented the Belcher ships, mostly during their long imprisonment in ice, their Beechey Island staging base, and important or perilous moments. Once Resolute was abandoned, he kept up with his diary and continued to illustrate his difficult journey back. Today, these interesting records are in the collection of Library and Archives Canada.

Mumford was an active participant to the important events of this phase of Arctic exploration. The two main search parties, Belcher in Assistance, Kellett in Resolute, respectively accompanied by their steam tenders, Pioneer and Intrepid, left their depot ship, North Star, at Beechey Island, to push further north and west. Once the ships were beset in ice, crews conducted further searches using sledges. Though they found virtually no new information out about the fate of the Franklin crews, they surveyed large swaths of the Arctic archipelago. A happy discovery was the location of the long-beset HMS Investigator at Mercy Bay. Kellett ordered Robert McClure, Investigator’s captain, to abandon his command and bring in his ailing crew. During June 1853 McClure sledged to Resolute. The next Spring, with his ships still firmly seized in ice, Belcher made the difficult decision to abandon all primary expedition vessels (still tightly frozen in), and retreat to Beechey to seek passage home. Kellett’s whole party, including the Investigators, were doing quite well after all this time, but Belcher ordered them to go.

HMS Resolute beset, with ship’s boats on the ice and her rudder swung out over the stern. The joys of consulting microfilm from a vintage reader! Credit: Library and Archives Canada, Acc. No. 1986-18

The Mumford collection was acquired by the National Archives of Canada in 1984 with the assistance of a grant from the Government of Canada under the Cultural Property Export and Import Act.1 In contrast to many of the official works and the officers’ records documenting the search efforts, Mumford’s archival fonds provides a different perspective: what a warrant officer with a keen eye for details witnessed of this great era in Arctic exploration. Mumford went on to have an important career with Lloyd’s of London, as a surveyor of ships from 1857-1889.2 He knew his ships, and so his depictions can be considered an accurate visual record. The diary was microfilmed soon after acquisition, and copies passed to Cambridge University and the National Maritime Museum. Interleaved with the text of some 150 pages were watercolours and drawings of ships and topographical scenes, maps, printed poster playbills for onboard theatrical entertainments, and some later correspondence (mostly a curated collection of press clippings that show Mumford to have kept up on developments in Canada’s distant North). After filming, the watercolours were removed and housed separately for long-term conservation. Of Mumford’s diary, we viewed the microfilm copy at LAC last October, and we failed spectacularly to decipher most entries! We hope the fine visual record, presented in chronological order with additional context, are of interest:

“Winter quarters at Melville Island, taken from the East” Feb. 1853. Even fitted for overwintering and bulwarked with snow, the contrast between the doughty search vessel Resolute, (right) and the rakish, fine lines of Intrepid, is notable. Credit: LAC 86-18-18
“HMS North Star forced on shore by the ice at Beechey, near Cape Spencer”, This dramatic June 1853 view shows HMS North Star, the Belcher Expedition’s depot ship, located at Beechey Island, the site of the Franklin Expedition’s first wintering. Credit: LAC 1986-18-20
“The Last Move” September 1853. HMS Intrepid, the steam tender, is leading Resolute with sail and steam up. Credit: LAC 1986-18-22
“The Resolute and Intrepid in winter quarters, 1853-1854, taken from the ‘Long Walk’ looking East” Ca. Dec. 1853. This shows the two ships now wintering at their second encampment, located (in the moving pack) off Dealy Island. LAC 86-18-25
“HMS Resolute abandoned May 15, 1854.” A depiction of the beginnings of the sledging trip of the combined crew of the Resolute and Investigator (Robert McClure’s ship, abandoned earlier at Mercy Bay) making a start towards Beechey Island, with Resolute and Intrepid still beset. Resolute was abandoned in good order with flags nailed to the mast trucks.3 Credit: LAC 1986-18-26
HMS North Star, still at Beechey. Dated May 1854, this remarkable view shows Beechey’s imposing and bleak cliffs. Ashore, Northumberland House, the storehouse the Belcher crews built, and a large boat which is likely Sir John Ross’s rescue yacht Mary, are visible. [Detail of] LAC 1986-18-27
“HMS Diving Bell, Phoenix” This dramatic watercolour appears to show Edward A. Inglefield’s command, HMS Phoenix, in a perilous situation. September 1854. At this time Inglefield was engaged in returning Robert McClure and the crew of Investigator to England. The distant vessel could be the accompanying HMS Talbot or North Star. Credit: LAC 1986-18-29

  1. Source: Library and Archives Canada, Acc. No. 1986-18. Consulted MFL reel H-1662 and separate artwork. ↩︎
  2. Charlie Kelly “The remarkable ship Resolute,” https://hec.lrfoundation.org.uk/whats-on/blogs/the-remarkable-ship-resolute ↩︎
  3. Mumford’s ship would eventually free itself from the ice, to drift on an incredible journey. Salvaged by American whalers in 1855, Resolute would be presented back to Great Britain in 1856. For a detailed summary see the online HMS Resolute project: https://www.hms-resolute.co.uk/the-nutshell/ ↩︎

A Lonely Cenotaph to Lost Searchers

One of the remarkable monuments at Beechey Island, connected with the searches for the Sir John Franklin 1845 expedition, is the “Franklin Cenotaph.” It may be the oldest cenotaph – an incredibly early example of a memorial that commemorates sailors individually by name – in Canada. This distinctive monument is located inland of the ruins of Northumberland House and the fallen mast of Sir John Ross’s yacht Mary. Beechey Island is an isolated, barren place, just off the southwest coast of Devon Island, in the High Arctic, in present-day Nunavut. It had been the site of the Franklin Expedition’s first winter encampment, when HM ships Erebus and Terror had sought shelter here in 1845 and been frozen-in. In 1846, before the ice released the ships, three members of the Expedition were buried just up the beach. The area later became prominent as a staging base/supply depot in the expeditions sent to try and ascertain the fate of Franklin and his crews. Today, this incredibly remote 170-year old cenotaph serves as a lasting memorial to the human cost of these efforts.

The monument, ca. 1978. Credit: NWT Archives/Stuart M. Hodgson fonds/N-2017-008: 0918

A brief description of the monument could be: A column now white but sometimes black, in the form of an octagonal piece of ships’ machinery, affixed with plaques, with a larger one predominating, surmounted by a large finial (ball), the column approached by a marble slab on a concrete base, with the whole raised on a small platform of cemented limestone. The Belcher column and Bellot’s monument AND Lady Franklin’s memorial plaque have a unique history, like many other relics, ruins, graves, and wrecks at Beechey. This composite monument, often simplified to “the Franklin Cenotaph,” was begun in June 1854 by the crew of HMS North Star, under the command of W.J.S. Pullen. Its original intent was to honour sailors who had perished in the great efforts to locate the crews of Franklin’s vanished ships. North Star was serving as a depot and stores vessel for the larger Royal Navy search effort, Sir Edward Belcher, commanding.

Map of the 1845-46 Franklin Expedition sites, and a record of their discovery[annotated with approximate locations of some sites mentioned in this post, including the cenotaph, located just behind the square Northumberland House] The British Library, “Papers and Despatches relating to the Arctic Searching Expeditions of 1850-51. Together with a few remarks as to the probable course pursued by Sir John Franklin, etc. [Compiled by James Mangles. With maps.(London: 1851)] No restrictions, via Wikimedia Commons

This new “Belcher column” adhered to the classical definition of a cenotaph: It memorialized the dead without being a burial site. By commemorating enlisted personnel – sailors and marines – it was also incredibly rare for its time.1 Small plaques on each face of the column identify 13 deceased members of HM ships Investigator, Resolute, Assistance, Intrepid, whose remains were buried elsewhere.2 These men are not all commemorated in the same manner; some entries are descriptive, some employ religious passages, some are brief.

The column was reportedly made out of the interior section (the spindle) of the capstan of the American whaling ship McLellan. McLellan had been lost two years previously, on 8 July 1852 on the way to Arctic whaling grounds, in Melville Sound, when it and a fleet of British whaling ships had been frozen in pack ice, alongside Belcher’s small Royal Navy squadron, then journeying up to begin the search. McLellan had run afoul of North Star. It was then crushed by fast moving ice. The vessel must have remained on the surface or pinned to the ice for some time, as much seems to have been salvaged. McLellan’s spars would also be a source of timbers used to construct Northumberland House, the large storehouse constructed soon after the ships got to Beechey.3

Dismantling the very old whaling ship Rousseau at New Bedford MA, ca. 1893. This shows many of the spars, masts, timbers, and other materials that would have been sourced from the similar ship McLellan, that were used in Beechey Island construction projects. note the crews are down to the level of the lower deck, and the vessel is still afloat with intact coppering! Credit: Joseph G. Tirrell 2012.008.0055, Digital Commonwealth (CC BY-NC-ND)

The second major component of the monument was added later that summer to memorialize Lt. Joseph-René Bellot. Bellot, an officer of the French Navy, had accompanied Captain Edward Augustus Inglefield, commanding HMS Phoenix, on the same 1853 journey to resupply Belcher’s ships that resulted in the loss of the Breadalbane supply ship nearby.

Portrait gravé sur acier de l’explorateur français Joseph-René Bellot (1826-1853), en tête de son ouvrage Journal d’un voyage aux mers polaires à la recherche de Sir John Franklin, introduction de Paul Boiteau, Paris, Perrotin, 1866.Credit: Wikinade, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Bellot was a seasoned Arctic explorer who had already been out as second in command on the 1851 William Kennedy expedition. He was respected and admired by his comrades. As Phoenix and Breadalbane were driven away from Beechey, in a gale, he had volunteered to brave the ice and elements to carry despatches north to Wellington Channel, to deliver them to Belcher. Bellot disappeared 18 August, when the ice suddenly opened around him. This loss was felt deeply by the searchers in the Arctic.

HMS Phoenix, with Breadalbane supply ship behind on 18 Aug. 1853, in the same perilous conditions that Bellot, transporting despatches, was lost in. Credit: Admiral Sir Edward Augustus Inglefield, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

In August 1854, when Inglefield returned to the Arctic on the next resupply effort, he brought up a plaque dedicated to the memory of Bellot to be added to the Belcher column. The plaque had been commissioned by an important friend, Sir John Barrow, (Second Secretary at the Admiralty and the second Barrow heavily involved in polar exploration) and was cast in a headstone-like shape.

The monument as it appeared soon after construction, with the Bellot plaque, whose text is legible here, mounted low on the front face. The Illustrated London News, 28 October 1854[detail of] Unidentified engraver, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Francis Leopold McClintock’s search expedition of 1858 brought up the last major addition to the monument: A large marble slab commissioned by Lady Jane Franklin, Sir John Franklin’s widow. The marble was inscribed with text dedicating it “To the Memory of Franklin, Crozier, Fitzjames, and all their gallant brother officers and faithful companions…” This, aptly, concluded the memorialization program on the monument by incorporating the lost explorers into the monument to the lost searchers of those explorers. The marble was to have been brought north in 1855 by an American expedition looking for Dr. Kane, commanded by Lt. Henry J. Hartstene. That expedition turned back when they located Kane, so the plaque waited at Disko, Greenland, for three years. McClintock’s expedition routed it on up (with an additional small plaque added to reference this) and deposited the marble flat on the ground in front of the column.

One of the original oddities of the monument is the metal “Post Office” letterbox panel affixed to a rear surface. Despite the prevalence of seances in Victorian England, this was not intended as a correspondence box to the lost, to communicate with the spirit world. According to an October 1854 London Illustrated News article, which featured a sketch of the monument, this letterbox was actually functional, intended for future visitors to leave letters as a receipt of having visited the Island.

Lt. Allen Young’s 1876 photograph of the monument, looking towards the beach at Beechey, with Lady Franklin’s marble on the ground and the post office plaque on the lower rear face. Credit: Allen Young “Cruise of the Pandora” (London, 1876) Page 43. Public domain via Library and Archives Canada 1984-109 NPC

In 1876, Allen Young, in HMS Pandora, revisited Beechey’s lonely shores. He had last been there while serving as Navigator on Fox, McClintock’s ship. He took a valuable photographic record of the site that was incorporated into his published journal.4 At this time the monument was painted black. Young described opening the letterbox on the monument to retrieve a single document. Pen pals were in short supply at Beechey, and the only contents were a memo left by Belcher more than two decades before.

The cenotaph, like so many other relics, wrecks, and remains at Beechey, seems to have mostly escaped the ravages of time. A half-century after its installation, in August 1904, the Canadian ship DGS Neptune visited Beechey, as part of the Dominion Government Expedition, A.P. Low commanding. This visit saw expedition members raise the marble plaque for a photograph and then reorient it to face upwards (Low’s interesting description of Beechey and the cenotaph is in this 1906 report). At this time a flagpole may have been installed at the rear or very near the monument.

The Dominion Government expedition’s visit to the memorial, 15 August 1904. A.P. Low describes how they found a note from the previous year in a sealed case attached to the rear of the cenotaph, left by Roald Amundsen, whose ship Gjoa was unlocated at this time. The note was forwarded to the Norwegian government. Credit: Albert Peter Low / Library and Archives Canada / PA-053580

During the 1922-23 visit to the monument, on one of Captain J.E. Bernier’s yearly voyages/sovereignty patrols north in CGS Arctic, the marble appears to have been set into a more secure and aesthetically pleasing angled concrete base. The head of the marble now rested just under the Bellot plaque. Other than the removal of the flagpole, and the application of white paint, the memorial has remained substantially unaltered since then. It continues to stand tall in a lonely vigil at Beechey, down through the decades. Today, the Franklin Cenotaph is a powerful site of memory connected with the search for the Northwest Passage, and an important tribute to the men who died far from home looking for lost comrades.

Capt. Bernier, CGS Arctic, with other crew at the Franklin Cenotaph, 1923. Credit: Library and Archives Canada R216, Vol. 14946, p54.

Please see our 2024/03 update to this story, where we used an archival source, William Mumford’s diary, to determine more accurate provenance of the column to a different part id the McLellan whaling ship. We still have many questions about the monument, including what dates sections of the monument were altered or rebuilt, why the small plaques were sometimes missing from archival photos, and the subsequent history of archaeology at the monument. There are many discrepancies in the sources, and we know there are folks out there who know more than us, so we are happy to stand corrected! We also hope this post spurs greater study of this important memorial. If you’ve visited Beechey Island, we’d love to see your photos!

Northwest Territories Commissioner Stuart Hodgson (at left – the creator of the Franklin Probe, a maritime historian and a Canadian naval veteran) and others help replace the Cenotaph plaques with replicas during a July 1978 visit.

  1. This cenotaph may even be unique on Canada. We have never heard of one that commemorates not just senior officers but the regular sailors and marines of military ships, erected before the 20th century. A hundred years earlier, the terrible loss of more than a thousand officers and enlisted men, when HMS Victory (1737-1744) sank in the English Channel, had resulted in the kind of traditional commemoration to the leader, Admiral Sir John Balchen, at Westminster Abbey. The oldest naval monument now located in Canada is Montreal’s Lord Horatio Nelson column (constructed 1809). ↩︎
  2. Thomas Morgan of HMS Investigator, who died 1854-05-22 onboard North Star, is buried nearby with the three original Franklin crewmembers. Aside from Morgan and Bellot (who is commemorated twice on this monument), the other members of search crews memorialized on the column (with their ships and dates of death) are: William Cutbush HMS Assistance 1853-02-27; Isaac Barnett HMS Assistance 1854-01-28; George Harris HMS Assistance 1854-01-09, John Ames, HMS Investigator 1853-04-11; John Boyle HMS Investigator 1853-04-05; H.H. Sainsbury HMS Investigator 1853-11-14; Thomas Mobley HMS Resolute 1852-10-19; George Drover HMS Intrepid 1852-12-12; John Coombs HMS Intrepid 1853-05-12; Thomas Hood HMS Intrepid 1854-01-02; John Kerr HMS Investigator 1853-04-13; James Wilkie HMS Intrepid 1854-02-2. These names can be verified at Maritime Memorials at RMG. ↩︎
  3. Brian D. Powell Polar Record 42 Issue 4 provides a detailed summary of the construction of this and other monuments at Beechey, and there is still more work to do on the commemorative intent of the various monuments. Other evidence for the source of the Belcher column, the whaling ship McLellan, is found in Barr and Stein’s January 2017 article “Frederick J. Krabbé, last man to see HMS Investigator afloat, May 1854” Journal of the Hakluyt Society. We have usually encountered spindles with ten or more sides as part of naval capstans. ↩︎
  4. Young had been sent in HMS Pandora to aid the 1875-76 British Arctic Expedition, which encountered many difficulties. Young’s ship, a reinforced gunboat, would be acquired as USS Jeanette for the Grealy expedition, which ended in more shipwreck and tragedy. His account The Two Voyages of the Pandora ; 1875-76 has a chapter (pp. 43-46) about Beechey with a brief description of the letter box, Northumberland House, the Mary yacht left by Sir John Ross, and other boats on the site: https://archive.org/embed/cu31924091208565 ↩︎

Breadalbane Part 3: Building a Beautiful Wreck in Miniature

One-hundred-and-seventy years ago today, a ship was dying, incredibly far North. Early on 21 August, 1853, ice suddenly penetrated the Breadalbane’s cargo holds, where vital supplies had been stored a few days previously. The crew scrambled away to safety. The ship sank like a stone in 330’ of water. All these years later, what remains of this relic of the great searches to find the lost Sir John Franklin Expedition? What if today we had the technology to “Drain the Barrow Strait” (to borrow a National Geographic-inspired dramatic device) and check up on Breadalbane? Well, on this important day, we are doing just that – in reduced scale!

“A ship above and a ship below”–The wreck diorama accompanied by a contemporary view. E.A. Inglefield’s illustration of HMS Phoenix towing the ship, Credit Library and Archives Canada mikan 2837866 AND http://www.warsearcher.com

This third post will show our construction of an archaeologically-inspired scale diorama of the Breadalbane wreck site–part of the Beechey Island National Historic Site of Canada. The first post summarized the loss of this supply ship in the High Arctic in Aug. 1853, while provisioning search expeditions looking for the Franklin Expedition. The second post described the original 1980s discovery and exploration of the wreck. A fourth post explores the wreck based on Parks Canada’s 2014 visit.

330” scale feet–or 28 inches–under snow and ice, lies the Breadalbane model, represented at her 1980 moment of discovery. Credit: http://www.warsearcher.com

Following on from our work on an HMS Terror diorama during 2022, we had the idea to build Breadalbane after seeing the state of preservation and the incredible marine life populating this remote spot, south of Beechey Island, Nunavut. Photos and video from the original 1983 expedition and the 2014 check-up (the 1984 National Film Board documentary and the contemporary Canadian Broadcasting Corporation 2014 coverage and clips) show a riot of colour in the dark, freezing waters off Beechey.

In addition to the binnacle cabinet and ship’s wheel, a site of importance to the 1980s explorations, the transom has been represented with three closed scuttles, which both C.A. Inglefield’s and another contemporary illustration of the sinking show. Credit:www.warsearcher.com
Draft marks are present climbing up the stern post, with the fallen rudder and lower mizzen mast underneath. The stern post is perched a few feet off the hard bottom. Credit: http://www.warsearcher.com.
The main cargo hatch, mainmast, pumps, companionway leading down to the aft portion of the lower deck, the ship’s capstan, and the open forward face of the deckhouse. The model also has detailed interior areas of both the lower deck and main hold, which may be explored in a future post. Credit: http://www.warsearcher.com

The Breadalbane was a casualty of Beechey Island’s local conditions, like the three Franklin crewmembers (and one HMS Investigator member) buried nearby, so we gave the diorama a nameplate inspired by the original 1840s-1850s appearance of the Beechey gravestones: Black board with white lettering.

The model’s bows, showing the placement of the port Bower anchor, and the damaged bowsprit and head rails. The beginnings of the copper cladding are damaged at where the stem meets the keel. Credit: http://www.warsearcher.com

The diorama was originally conceived of as an engaging way of interpreting the information gathered about the wreck by Dr. Joe MacInnis’s 1980s team and by Parks Canada’s visits to the wreck site 2012-2014. We owe both teams a debt of gratitude for supplying us information, and would like to reiterate the acknowledgements from the first post. We are not done with Beechey, or rather Beechey is not nearly done with us. Spare this sunken, beautiful barque a thought today, and stay tuned!

The starboard side, showing the deckhouse, and the enormous and fatal hole in the ship’s bilges. At the very left corner of the diorama, we chose to represent Breadalbane’s female figurehead, resting on the seafloor. This feature appears to have been sheared off during the sinking, and has not been found. Credit:www.warsearcher.com

Breadalbane Part 2: Finding a Shipwreck under the Ice at Beechey

This second post will focus on the 1980s discovery and explorations of the incredibly intact wreck of Breadalbane off Beechey Island, Nunavut. The first post summarized the loss of this supply ship in the High Arctic in Aug. 1853, while resupplying search expeditions looking for the Franklin Expedition. The third post shows our construction of an archaeologically-based scale diorama of this National Historic Site of Canada. A fourth post explores the wreck based on Parks Canada’s 2014 visit.

The Breadalbane wreck diorama, built in 2023, represents the wreck at a scale depth of 330’ as it appeared before its 1980 discovery. This will be the subject of a future post. Credit:www.warsearcher.com

On August 17th, 1984, Anthropologist Owen Beattie, looking for evidence of what went so terribly wrong with the 1845 Franklin Expedition, exhumed the body of John Torrington, a stoker from HMS Terror who had been buried almost fourteen decades before at Beechey Island, in the Canadian Arctic. Torrington had been one of the first to perish, on New Year’s Day, 1846. He was buried at the site of the first winter encampment of HM Ships Erebus and Terror. When photos were released of his body, newly exhumed from a frozen coffin, the public was shocked, fascinated, and a little horrified. This early-Victorian sailor appeared to have barely decayed!

John Torrington’s grave marker. This is a replica placed here in 1993 when the original marker was moved to the Prince of Wales Northern Heritage Centre. Credit: Gordon Leggett via wikimedia commons [cropped and edited]

The state of preservation should not have been so surprising: remains and relics of Arctic exploration located at Beechey just don’t seem to deteriorate as we would expect! A few years earlier the wreck of the supply ship Breadalbane had been discovered nearby. Like Torrington and the shipmates buried alongside him, Breadalbane was also “Frozen in Time.”1

Map of the Arctic portion of North America, with the state of surveying just before the Franklin Expedition set off. [cropped and annotated with rough location of Breadalbane sinking] HM Admiralty; J. & C. Walker, Public domain, Royal Museums Greenwich via Wikimedia Commons

In most other bodies of water on Earth, a 130-year old wooden shipwreck would be a pile of debris and ballast stones, with scattered cannon, decayed timbers and remnants of cargo, copper and rusted metal left to hint at its past size and shape. The naval shipworm (toredo navalis – a pernicious little species of clam) devastates wood, devouring wooden hulls, masts, and deck structures within a dozen or so years. In the High Arctic, as in the waters around Antarctica, and a few inland lakes and seas, the shipworm has no dominion, and wrecks remain as silent sentinels of past eras of trade, warfare, or exploration.

As the lost ships and vanished 129-man crew of the Franklin Expedition lived on in the popular memory, the related story of the ship that sank at Beechey in 1853 was completely forgotten. During the 1970s, Dr. Joe MacInnis, a Canadian who was pioneering new undersea medicine and diving technologies, began looking into Arctic shipwrecks, with the idea of a search that could also be a test bed for new undersea equipment. Using archival sources from the Scott Polar Research Institute, the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, and elsewhere, he eventually seized on the idea of a search for the Breadalbane. He had high hopes of locating the wreck based on the reasonably accurate statement about where the ship was lost south of Beechey Island. He led a multidisciplinary team, supported by Canadian Coast Guard icebreakers, starting in 1979. Weather and ice conditions limited the search to a few short weeks and the team was forced to wait to return to the waters off Beechey until August 1980. That year, they discovered a wreck in about 330’ of water, two kilometres south of the Island’s imposing cliffs.

Annotated Sentinel Playground image of the conditions around Beechey Island 165 years after the sinking, showing dangerous ice pans and floes south of Beechey. These conditions in mid-August both caused the original 1853 loss of Breadalbane, and made any summer search or exploration efforts on the wreck difficult.

While noting enormous iceberg scour trails snaking their way across the seafloor of the Barrow Strait, a clear image of a wreck came across the sonar print-out. The images were interpreted by expert sonar technician Garry Kozak on the bridge of the Canadian icebreaker CCGS Sir John A. McDonald. Surprisingly, the scans clearly showed two masts pointing towards the surface. They had located a large sailing ship! A sonar image, though, does not constitute a confirmed shipwreck identification. For that, the team needed “eyes on the prize.” That came soon after, as the team were able to descend a camera on a line to the wreck, which filmed some portion of the ship’s gunwales or deck.

CCGS Pierre Radisson (at right) refuels HMCS Moncton during the Sep. 2015 Operation QIMMIQ in Nunavut, related to the search for HMS Terror. Pierre Radisson was involved, early in her career, in the Breadalbane exploration. Credit: Department of National Defence (Corporal Felicia Ogunniya) SW2015-0226-1306

After delays and an unfavourable season, the team returned in September 1982 with a Benthos Remote Piloted Vehicle (RPV). This advanced robotic vehicle had been developed by Chris Nicholson, who was present to skillfully pilot it (Nicholson would be involved in many other robotic explorations, including on RMS Titanic and the US warships Hamilton and Scourge in Lake Ontario). The RPV captured a rich visual record that helped survey the wreck’s condition-it was shockingly intact! During April 1983 they were back over Breadalbane with more funding and an incredibly audacious plan that MacInnis had put together: To establish a camp on the ice over the wreck using flown-in supplies; to continue to survey the Breadalbane with RPVs; and to tractor in equipment to enable the team to perform crewed-dives to inspect the wreck and surroundings. The frigid depths the wreck lay at were beyond the limit of safe scuba diving or surface-supplied diving. The team had been planning for this. They would operate the WASP suit, a newly developed atmospheric diving suit that was safe to operate beyond Breadalbane’s depth. It was basically a heavy diving-suit-like one-person submersible, with claw-like hands emerging from articulated arms, a dome to look through, and a single lower section.2 The WASP pilots propelled themselves by marine thrusters.

The cover of the July 1983 edition of National Geographic showed the recovery of a WASP-suited pilot who had been exploring the wreck. The National Geographic photographer most involved in shooting some incredible imagery was Emory Kristof, longtime underwater photographer.

This might all seem standard procedure in the third decade of the 21st Century. Similar dives have now been performed on other Franklin Expedition-associated sites, and an ice camp was also an option in the recent find of Sir Ernest Shackleton’s exploration ship Endurance under the Weddell Sea, Antarctica; however, in 1983 this was pushing the limits of technology. Looking back at the concurrent RPV filming and diving, and the as-it-happens filming of a National Film Board documentary, directed by Bill Mason, the logistical and technological efforts in an environment of -20*C, and the “cowboy” atmosphere at the ice camp…the whole effort was bonkers!3 Somehow, the program stayed on track, and things came together just when they had to. The dives were an incredible success. WASP pilots Phil Nuytten (a Canadian engineer heavily involved in the design of the suits) and Doug Osborne have been the only humans to ever visit the site. Nuytten was quoted as saying ”It looked like you could sail it away, if you could somehow make the water vanish, you could probably repair it in a couple of weeks and sail it back to England. It looked great.”4

As Dr. MacInnis relates in his book on the topic, The Search for the Breadalbane, news of the 1980 Breadalbane discovery was eclipsed by false reports of the discovery of RMS Titanic, which would not actually be located until five years later (iconic bow section view). Courtesy of NOAA/Institute for Exploration/University of Rhode Island (NOAA/IFE/URI)., Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Compared to the barrenness of Beechey’s landscapes, Breadalbane was found to be host to thriving communities of marine life. Anemones and bright white basket stars blended with vibrant pink, orange and red coral growths on the upper hull and topsides. Everywhere there was silt, heaps of growth, and decades of deposited phytoplankton and algae, which floated down on the wreck like green snow. Below this abundance, her lower hull was found to be clad in a minty-green cloak of beautifully-preserved copper sheathing.

Copper roof sheets originally removed from the roof of the Canadian Parliament Buildings in Ottawa, now a wall in the lobby of the Canadian War Museum. These approximate the sizes and shades of verdigris on the Breadalbane’s hull. (Author’s photo)

A brief summary of the archaeological discoveries and major features of the wreck would highlight the exceptionally large and early example of a deckhouse. It survived mostly intact on the ship’s quarterdeck, and was packed with artifacts such as tables, chairs, and a ship’s stove. Elsewhere, deck furniture included the large windlass forward and the capstan aft. Open hatches provided glimpses of the chaotic damage on the lower deck. The ship’s wheel and a binnacle cabinet were located with navigating instruments, on the small after deck.

Site plan of Breadalbane as discovered in the early 1980s, drawn in 2023 relying on 1980s and 2012-2014 ROV and dive footage, sonar scans, artistic reconstructions, and other sources. Credit: http://www.warsearcher.com, who retain copyright

The lower hull was marked by a massive extent of ice damage, particularly running along the starboard bilge. This marred otherwise pristine copper sheathing. A well-preserved bower anchor of the stockless variety was discovered on the seafloor, on the Portside of the stem, with a heavy hawser still leading up to a hawsehole. The rudder was located on the seabed just aft of the sternpost, while the fallen mizzen mast stretched from it off to port. White draft marking climbed up the sternpost (these would have originally helped load, ballast, or trim the ship, filling it to a safe, even, waterline level). Debris and spars stretched along the port side on the seabed, with a railing, originally on the deckhouse roof, running like an angled ladder from the seabed to the ship’s sides. The bowsprit was shattered, the figurehead could not be discerned through the growth, and the ship’s bell (a focal point of any shipwreck) was not found.

A 1987 issued Canada Post 36 cent stamp commemorating the Breadalbane find, which shows the wheel with colourful marine growth. Credit: Credit: Library and Archives Canada; Copyright: Canada Post Corporation

During the 1983 RPV and WASP operations, a small number of artifacts, and notably the ship’s wheel, were brought to the surface. Parks Canada underwater archaeologist Robert Grenier did not support the recovery of items from the site – a process that requires additional permits and permissions. Once the objects were at the surface, he worked diligently to safeguard the preservation of these wooden artifacts and prepare them for transportation.

Forty years later, the wheel as preserved at Parks Canada’s Ottawa facility, May 2023. Credit: Russell Potter, Visions of the North blog: https://visionsnorth.blogspot.com/2023/04/a-visit-with-parks-canada-part-2-of-3.html?m=1

After the recovery, the team worked quickly to wrap up the season, tearing down the ice camp. The fabulously expensive equipment was shipped south. Joe gave interviews and presentations and wrote his book, The Search for the Breadalbane, Bill Mason produced the NFB documentary Land that Devours Ships, the National Geographic photo crew moved to other assignments, Chris Nicholson continued to design and operate improved robotic systems, and Garry Kozak was involved in new sonar searches for other famous shipwrecks. Robert Grenier returned south to continue the massive archaeological excavations at Red Bay, Labrador. When the last plane lifted off the ice-strip in the shadows of Beechey Island’s imposing cliffs, Breadalbane was again left as a time capsule waiting under the ice.

  1. John Geiger and Owen Beattie’s 1987 book Frozen in Time: The Fate of the Franklin Expedition laid out a hypothesis that lead poisoning had contributed to the destruction of the Franklin Expedition, which had originated out of the 1984 exhumation of Torrington, and John Hartnell and William Braine the next year. The grave of sailor Thomas Morgan, of HMS Investigator, located beside the three Franklin graves, has not be excavated. The author, as a young boy, first saw the Torrington image in Owen Beattie and John Geiger’s 1991 young readers book Buried in Ice: The Mystery of a Lost Arctic Expedition, and has been trying for thirty-two years now to unsee it. ↩︎
  2. Readers may recall a different type of atmospheric diving suit, the JIM suit, making an appearance in the 1981 James Bond film For Your Eyes Only. ↩︎
  3. The NFB film “Land that Devours Ships” (1983) is an incredible visual record of these expeditions to the Breadalbane, that can be fully viewed on the NFB website. The author would like to acknowledge the continued assistance of Jonathan Moore, Parks Canada, whose expertise has substantially complemented the visual record of the 198os expeditions. ↩︎
  4. “Divers find old ship intact in the Arctic,” New York Times 27 May 1983 A12. ↩︎

Breadalbane Part 1: Wrecked near the Top of the World

This first post will recount the 1853 loss of the supply ship Breadalbane in the High Arctic near Beechey Island, present-day Nunavut, Canada, while resupplying search expeditions looking for the Sir John Franklin Expedition. Upcoming posts will focus on the 1980s discovery and exploration of the incredibly intact wreck, the 2012-2014 survey work by the Canadian Government, and our construction of an archaeologically-based scale diorama to help interpret Breadalbane – a National Historic Site of Canada.

One-hundred-and-seventy years ago, the Breadalbane supply ship was proceeding North to a rendezvous in Greenland. This merchant ship had been built on the Clyde River, Scotland, in 1843. Ten years later, the crew succeeded in an important mission, but Breadalbane would not return from her Arctic service. Her shipwreck was located 130 years later by Dr. Joseph B. MacInnis and his colleagues. Currently, she is the most northerly identified Canadian Arctic wreck, and one of the most northerly in the World.1 She remains one of the most intact ships from the great era of polar exploration. Breadalbane’s wreck is a vibrant oasis of marine life in a brutally harsh environment.

Of all our attempts to locate imagery and plans of Breadalbane, we have settled on this National Maritime Museum model of an 1830s merchant ship as best representing Breadalbane as she appeared before Admiralty modifications for Arctic service. Even the paint scheme appears similar to that found on the wreck. Credit: Royal Museums Greenwich SLR0726

Breadalbane was built by the firm of Hedderwick and Rankin in 1842-1843 near Glasgow, and was typical of hundreds of other merchant ships. She was roughly 125 feet from bow to stern (according to the Lloyd’s of London survey report for 1843, she was 117.8 feet, which could be a stem-to-sternpost dimension), and displaced about 430 tons, her moulded breadth was about 24 ‘, suggesting her overall width was greater. She was sturdily built, of a bewildering variety of woods, from all over the British Empire and beyond: African and American Oak, Quebec Rock Elm, Red and Yellow pine. Well-squared English and Welsh oak predominated. Unlike the later clipper ships, she was designed for economical transportation of goods, not speedy passages. Her bows were bluff, her proportions were generous (to incorporate capacious cargo holds) and her lines were simple. She was rigged as a barque–that is to say square sails on the fore and mainmast and a simpler fore-and-aft rigged mizzen mast near the stern. Compared to a fully-rigged ship, this simplified rig had only a small impact on the ship’s performance before the wind, while requiring less crew members.

The Charles W. Morgan whaling ship, a museum ship at Mystic CT, barque-rigged and the most similar surviving vessel to Breadalbane. She was built two years earlier, and is slightly smaller, with the specialized features of a whaler-tryworks stoves for melting down blubber and davits for more whale-catching boats. Credit: Ken Mist, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Breadalbane’s career thus far had involved routine voyages to transport goods to and from British India. She had been meticulously maintained. Upon an 1848 return from one such voyage, she had to be set right after a minor accident in Calcutta. She was repaired with teak sections and classed again at the highest level of Lloyd’s of London assessment, A1 for ten years, with the surveyor writing ” The barque is in good condition and eligible for the safe conveyance of dry and perishable cargos to and from all parts of the World.”2

Taken up for Admiralty service in March 1853 and given a refit and modifications for Arctic service (which we will describe in a future post), Breadalbane departed from the Thames Estuary 19 May 1853, fully loaded with provisions for the search expeditions, commanded by Captain Edward Belcher, which were then scouring the Arctic for traces of the Franklin Expedition and HM Ships Erebus and Terror. It was eight years to the day since Franklin’s ships had started off on their own fateful passage. Breadalbane arrived off Disko Island, Greenland, 8 July. After meeting up with her powerful consort, HMS Phoenix, a steamship, she proceeded along the western coast of Greenland and on up the Davis Strait. Breadalbane was not updated with steam engines and screw propellers like Erebus and Terror had been in 1845. Instead, she was towed through adverse winds and dangerous ice by Phoenix.

Breadalbane under tow off Disko, Greenland. This is the only representation we have ever seen that shows both the figurehead and the deckhouse at the base of the mizzen. Detail of E.A. Inglefield’s view of HMS Phoenix towing the ship, with HMS Diligence store ship aft. Credit Library and Archives Canada mikan 2837866.

Phoenix’s Captain, Edward A. Inglefield, commanded the resupply effort. He also kept a visual record, in the form of well-executed sketches of the major events of the 1853 passage. Despite worsening ice conditions, the ships continued to make progress with Phoenix in the lead, employing her steam power and reinforced bows in the novel role of icebreaking, cutting a path for Breadalbane while simultaneously towing her.

Inglefield took a photographic record of a later resupply mission, in mid-1854, which saw HMS Phoenix (right) again leading a storeship, HMS Diligence, to resupply the Belcher expedition (1852-1854) looking for Franklin. They were photographed at Godhavn, (Qeqertarsuaq) Disko Island, Greenland. Diligence was a similar barque to Breadalbane, of earlier vintage. It appears that Diligence had been upgraded with partially reinforced ice channels under the fore, main and mizzen chains. Credit: Captain Edward Augustus Inglefield, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

The ships arrived near Beechey Island off the southwest coast of Devon Island, 8 August. Beechey already had a special significance, as the spot where the Franklin crews had spent their first winter of 1845-46, onboard their frozen-in ships. It was now being used as a staging base for the Belcher expedition ships, with HMS North Star depot ship victualling the widely-dispersed search ships. For the isolated Royal Navy crews confined to Beechey for many months, Breadalbane and Phoenix’s arrival was a joyous time. News of home, new faces, and new supplies boosted spirits. Breadalbane’s goods were sustaining the largest of the Franklin searches.

Beechey is an island of lost explorers, graves, monuments, shipwrecks, and house wrecks made from shipwrecks. These are the ruins of Northumberland House, constructed in 1852-53 under the direction of HMS North Star‘s Captain, Cmdr. W.J.S. Pullen. It was provisioned with supplies in case Franklin’s crews or others returned. The mast of a whaling ship (still standing in the 1980s), whose timbers also wound up incorporated into the house, can just be seen on the beach, with a view out to Cape Riley, Devon Island, across Erebus and Terror Bay. Credit: Ansgar Walk, CC BY-SA 3.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Navigating the ice-chocked waters off Beechey proved to be challenging, so the next day the ship manoeuvred across Erebus and Terror Bay and in close to the bluffs at Cape Riley on Devon Island. Crew members begun shifting coal ashore. Ice remained a hazard, but the transport worked back inshore to discharge more cargo on 16 August.

Breadalbane’s crew shifting supplies ashore at Cape Riley, Devon Island, in company with HMS Phoenix (at right). (Detail of) Illustrated London News 22 Oct. 1853. Credit: Frederick James Smyth, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Unlike the events leading to final abandonment of Erebus and Terror, the details of Breadalbane’s loss, on 21 August 1853, are well-established. Descriptions by both Inglefield, and Breadalbane’s Second Master, William Fawckner, help chronicle the ship’s end. When most supplies had been unloaded, drifting ice began to descend on the area. The decision was taken to again evacuate the inshore area on the 20th. Sledging trips continued to remove more supplies to North Star. By midnight, Phoenix had worked her way to a position about a half-mile South of Beechey Island. Both ships were moored to a large flow. The ice crowded in, and the crew worked to save boats and to help Phoenix, which was thought to be in more imminent peril.

This remarkable work came up for auction a few years ago. It seems unlikely it was actually sketched by Inglefield, as it contrasts quite strikingly with his other depiction of the sinking. Here Breadalbane is shown heaved up on the ice, with HMS Phoenix nearby. This depiction has some unique features: A more ornate stern with three lights and false galleries (not depicted anywhere else), and lines which seem to indicate the bow sheathing.

The worst of the ice passed aft of Phoenix, smashed the boats, and brutalized Breadalbane, which would have been sitting high in the water, in ballast trim. The ice first pinched the ship, sending tremors throughout, before crashing straight through the lower hull. This opened an enormous gash along the starboard side at the same time as it ground a smaller rent in the port bows. Interior spaces, particularly around the ship’s bows, were devastated, with decks and partitions snapping like matchsticks.

The moment when Breadalbane was crushed by ice, 21 Aug. 1853, by EA Inglefield, who witnessed the events from his command, Phoenix, ahead of Breadalbane. Close visual inspection of the transom seems to indicate that there is indeed a third sealed scuttle or light across the stern, matching a detail of the auction house sketch. Evidence does suggest that Breadalbane had two enormous “2”s painted on each side, to mark her role as a supply ship. Nothing of these markings has been located on the wreck. Credit: Edward Augustus Inglefield, Library and Archives Canada [detail of] mikan 2837463

Inglefield arrived on scene and ordered Fawckner to assess the damage, as the ship settled lower by the bows. A cursory glance down the hatches into the main hold showed him that the ship was doomed. The 21-member crew worked to save a few possessions as the ice momentarily let up. Moments after all crew members had escaped over the ice, the ship plunged straight down with a rapidity that shocked all who witnessed the sorry end of Breadalbane.3 The process may have looked a bit like a sped-up version of Frank Hurley’s 1915 footage of Shackleton’s Endurance sinking in the Weddell Sea, Antarctica.

A World away, the most Southerly shipwreck, Sir Ernest Shackleton’s barquentine RRS Endurance, being gradually crushed by ice during the 1915 Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition. Endurance was located deep under the Weddell Sea in 2022. Credit: Frank Hurley via wikimedia commons.

The shipwrecked crew joined some of the crew of HMS Investigator (one of the search ships that had been beset and had been abandoned at Mercy Bay in April) and were soon on their way back to England on Phoenix. Breadalbane had served the Admiralty’s purpose. The ships of Britain’s far flung merchant marine were routinely lost in seas all over the World, and Breadalbane’s story seemed set to fade into obscurity, amidst the greater drama of the continued disappearance of the Franklin expedition, and the loss of many of the search ships.

A teaser for a future post. Here the model of Breadalbane’s wreck, which we will extensively interpret, is compared to satellite imagery of the Charles W. Morgan…BECAUSE WE CAN!

I would like to acknowledge the assistance and expertise of Jonathan Moore, Underwater Archaeology Team, Parks Canada, and Dr. Joe MacInnis, original team lead of the late 1970s and early 80s efforts to locate and explore Breadalbane.

  1. Jonathan Dore (Facebook group Remembering the Franklin Expedition) and David Mearns (FB group Sir E.H. Shackleton Appreciation Society) have supplied information about the remains of Benjamin Leigh Smith’s exploration ship Eira, in Franz Joseph Land, 6 degrees of latitude higher North. Eira was lost 18 years to the day after Breadalbane, 21 Aug. 1881. Breadalbane was the World’s most northerly located wreck from her discovery by Dr. Joe MacInnis in 1980 until 2018, when substantial evidence was recovered from the Eira wrecksite. Eira’s archaeological assessment is ongoing. ↩︎
  2. The Lloyd’s of London survey reports for Breadalbane from 1843,1844,1849,1853 are a valuable resource for describing her construction, repairs, and substantial modification in early 1853 for Northern service. ↩︎
  3. A detailed description of the sinking is provided by Fawckner, extensively excerpted in Joe MacInnis’s 1983 book: The Search for the Breadalbane. Many of the details of Breadalbane’s journey are taken from this source. I would like to thank Fabiënne Tetteroo for providing me with a copy of the Illustrated London News of 22 Oct. 1853 that excerpted Fawckner’s report. ↩︎