Arrival of the Ship "Albatross."--Reasons for the Non-Appearance of
the Beaver at Astoria.--Fruitless Attempt of Captain Smith on a
Former Occasion.--Astonishment and Regret of Mr. Hunt at the
Resolution of the Partners.--His Departure.--Narrative of the
Destruction of the Tonquin.--Causes of that Disaster.--Reflections.
On the 4th of August, contrary to all expectation, we saw a sail at the
mouth of the river. One of our gentlemen immediately got into the barge,
to ascertain her nationality and object: but before he had fairly
crossed the river, we saw her pass the bar and direct her course toward
Astoria, as if she were commanded by a captain to whom the intricacies
of the channel were familiar. I had stayed at the Fort with Mr. Clapp
and four men. As soon as we had recognised the American flag, not
doubting any longer that it was a ship destined for the factory, we
saluted her with three guns. She came to anchor over against the fort,
but on the opposite side of the river, and returned our salute. In a
short time after, we saw, or rather we heard, the oars of a boat (for it
was already night) that came toward us. We expected her approach with
impatience, to know who the stranger was, and what news she brought us.
Soon we were relieved from our uncertainty by the appearance of Mr.
Hunt, who informed us that the ship was called the _Albatross_ and was
commanded by Captain _Smith_.
It will be remembered that Mr. Hunt had sailed from Astoria on board the
"Beaver," on the 4th of August of the preceding year, and should have
returned with that vessel, in the month of October of the same year. We
testified to him our surprise that he had not returned at the time
appointed, and expressed the fears which we had entertained in regard to
his fate, as well as that of the Beaver itself: and in reply he
explained to us the reasons why neither he nor Captain Sowles had been
able to fulfil the promise which they had made us.
After having got clear of the river Columbia, they had scudded to the
north, and had repaired to the Russian post of Chitka, where they had
exchanged a part of their goods for furs. They had made with the
governor of that establishment, Barnoff by name, arrangements to supply
him regularly with all the goods of which he had need, and to send him
every year a vessel for that purpose, as well as for the transportation
of his surplus furs to the East Indies. They had then advanced still
further to the north, to the coast of _Kamskatka_; and being there
informed that some Kodiak hunters had been left on some adjacent isles,
called the islands of St. Peter and St. Paul, and that these hunters had
not been visited for three years, they determined to go thither, and
having reached those isles, they opened a brisk trade, and secured no
less than eighty thousand skins of the South-sea seal. These operations
had consumed a great deal of time; the season was already far advanced;
ice was forming around them, and it was not without having incurred
considerable dangers that they succeeded in making their way out of
those latitudes. Having extricated themselves from the frozen seas of
the north, but in a shattered condition, they deemed it more prudent to
run for the Sandwich isles, where they arrived after enduring a
succession of severe gales. Here Mr. Hunt disembarked, with the men who
had accompanied him, and who did not form a part of the ship's crew; and
the vessel, after undergoing the necessary repairs, set sail for Canton.
Mr. Hunt had then passed nearly six months at the Sandwich islands,
expecting the annual ship from New York, and never imagining that war
had been declared. But at last, weary of waiting so long to no purpose,
he had bought a small schooner of one of the chiefs of the isle of
Wahoo, and was engaged in getting her ready to sail for the mouth of the
Columbia, when four sails hove in sight, and presently came to anchor in
_Ohetity bay_. He immediately, went on board of one of them, and learned
that they came from the Indies, whence they had sailed precipitately, to
avoid the English cruisers. He also learned from the captain of the
vessel he boarded, that the Beaver had arrived in Canton some days
before the news of the declaration of war. This Captain Smith, moreover,
had on board some cases of nankeens and other goods shipped by Mr.
Astor's agent at Canton for us. Mr. Hunt then chartered the Albatross to
take him with his people and the goods to the Columbia. That gentleman
had not been idle during the time that he sojourned at Wahoo: he brought
us 35 barrels of salt pork or beef, nine tierces of rice, a great
quantity of dried _Taro_, and a good supply of salt.
As I knew the channel of the river, I went on board the Albatross, and
piloted her to the old anchorage of the Tonquin, under the guns of the
Fort, in order to facilitate the landing of the goods.
Captain Smith informed us that in 1810, a year before the founding of
our establishment, he had entered the river in the same vessel, and
ascended it in boats as far as Oak Point; and that he had attempted to
form an establishment there; but the spot which he chose for building,
and on which he had even commenced fencing for a garden, being
overflowed in the summer freshet, he had been forced to abandon his
project and re-embark. We had seen, in fact, at Oak Point, some traces
of this projected establishment. The bold manner in which this captain
had entered the river was now accounted for.
Captain Smith had chartered his vessel to a Frenchman named _Demestre_,
who was then a passenger on board of her, to go and take a cargo of
sandal wood at the _Marquesas_, where that gentleman had left some men
to collect it, the year before. He could not, therefore, comply with the
request we made him, to remain during the summer with us, in order to
transport our goods and people, as soon as they could be got together,
to the Sandwich islands.
Mr. Hunt was surprised beyond measure, when we informed him of the
resolution we had taken of abandoning the country: he blamed us severely
for having acted with so much precipitation, pointing out that the
success of the late coasting voyage, and the arrangements we had made
with the Russians, promised a most advantageous trade, which it was a
thousand pities to sacrifice, and lose the fruits of the hardships he
had endured and the dangers he had braved, at one fell swoop, by this
rash measure. Nevertheless, seeing the partners were determined to abide
by their first resolution, and not being able, by himself alone, to
fulfil his engagements to Governor Barnoff, he consented to embark once
more, in order to seek a vessel to transport our heavy goods, and such
of us as wished to return by sea. He sailed, in fact, on the Albatross,
at the end of the month. My friend Clapp embarked with him: they were,
in the first instance, to run down the coast of California, in the hope
of meeting there some of the American vessels which frequently visit
that coast to obtain provisions from the Spaniards.
Some days after the departure of Mr. Hunt, the old one-eyed chief
Comcomly came to tell us that an Indian of _Gray's Harbor_, who had
sailed on the Tonquin in 1811, and who was the only soul that had
escaped the massacre of the crew of that unfortunate vessel, had
returned to his tribe. As the distance from the River Columbia to Gray's
Harbor was not great, we sent for this native. At first he made
considerable difficulty about following our people, but was finally
persuaded. He arrived at Astoria, and related to us the circumstances of
that sad catastrophe, nearly as follows:[P]
"After I had embarked on the Tonquin," said he, "that vessel sailed for
_Nootka_.[Q] Having arrived opposite a large village called _Newity_, we
dropped anchor. The natives having invited Mr. M'Kay to land, he did so,
and was received in the most cordial manner: they even kept him several
days at their village, and made him lie, every night, on a couch of
sea-otter skins. Meanwhile the captain was engaged in trading with such
of the natives as resorted to his ship: but having had a difficulty with
one of the principal chiefs in regard to the price of certain goods, he
ended by putting the latter out of the ship, and in the act of so
repelling him, struck him on the face with the roll of furs which he had
brought to trade. This act was regarded by that chief and his followers
as the most grievous insult, and they resolved to take vengeance for it.
To arrive more surely at their purpose, they dissembled their
resentment, and came, as usual, on board the ship. One day, very early
in the morning, a large pirogue, containing about a score of natives,
came alongside: every man had in his hand a packet of furs, and held it
over his head as a sign that they came to trade. The watch let them come
on deck. A little after, arrived a second pirogue, carrying about as
many men as the other. The sailors believed that these also came to
exchange their furs, and allowed them to mount the ship's side like the
first. Very soon, the pirogues thus succeeding one another, the crew
saw themselves surrounded by a multitude of savages, who came upon the
deck from all sides. Becoming alarmed at the appearance of things, they
went to apprize the captain and Mr. M'Kay, who hastened to the poop. I
was with them," said the narrator, "and fearing, from the great
multitude of Indians whom I saw already on the deck, and from the
movements of those on shore, who were hurrying to embark in their
canoes, to approach the vessel, and from the women being left in charge
of the canoes of those who had arrived, that some evil design was on
foot, I communicated my suspicions to Mr. M'Kay, who himself spoke to
the captain. The latter affected an air of security, and said that with
the firearms on board, there was no reason to fear even a greater number
of Indians. Meanwhile these gentlemen had come on deck unarmed, without
even their sidearms. The trade, nevertheless, did not advance; the
Indians offered less than was asked, and pressing with their furs close
to the captain, Mr. M'Kay, and Mr. Lewis, repeated the word _Makoke!
Makoke!_ "Trade! Trade!" I urged the gentlemen to put to sea, and the
captain, at last, seeing the number of Indians increase every moment,
allowed himself to be persuaded: he ordered a part of the crew to raise
the anchor, and the rest to go aloft and unfurl the sails. At the same
time he warned the natives to withdraw, as the ship was going to sea. A
fresh breeze was then springing up, and in a few moments more their prey
would have escaped them; but immediately on receiving this notice, by a
preconcerted signal, the Indians, with a terrific yell, drew forth the
knives and war-bludgeons they had concealed in their bundles of furs,
and rushed upon the crew of the ship. Mr. Lewis was struck, and fell
over a bale of blankets. Mr. M'Kay, however, was the first victim whom
they sacrificed to their fury. Two savages, whom, from the crown of the
poop, where I was seated, I had seen follow this gentleman step by step,
now cast themselves upon him, and having given him a blow on the head
with a _potumagan_ (a kind of sabre which is described a little below),
felled him to the deck, then took him up and flung him into the sea,
where the women left in charge of the canoes, quickly finished him with
their paddles. Another set flung themselves upon the captain, who
defended himself for a long time with his pocket-knife, but, overpowered
by numbers, perished also under the blows of these murderers. I next saw
(and that was the last occurrence of which I was witness before quitting
the ship) the sailors who were aloft, slip down by the rigging, and get
below through the steerage hatchway. They were five, I think, in number,
and one of them, in descending, received a knife-stab in the back. I
then jumped overboard, to escape a similar fate to that of the captain
and Mr. M'Kay: the women in the canoes, to whom I surrendered myself as
a slave, took me in, and bade me hide myself under some mats which were
in the pirogues; which I did. Soon after, I heard the discharge of
firearms, immediately upon which the Indians fled from the vessel, and
pulled for the shore as fast as possible, nor did they venture to go
alongside the ship again the whole of that day. The next day, haying
seen four men lower a boat, and pull away from the ship, they sent some
pirogues in chase: but whether those men were overtaken and murdered, or
gained the open sea and perished there, I never could learn. Nothing
more was seen stirring on board the Tonquin; the natives pulled
cautiously around her, and some of the more daring went on board; at
last, the savages, finding themselves absolute masters of the ship,
rushed on board in a crowd to pillage her. But very soon, when there
were about four or five hundred either huddled together on deck, or
clinging to the sides, all eager for plunder, the ship blew up with a
horrible noise. "I was on the shore," said the Indian, "when the
explosion took place, saw the great volume of smoke burst forth in the
spot where the ship had been, and high in the air above, arms, legs,
heads and bodies, flying in every direction. The tribe acknowledged a
loss of over two hundred of their people on that occasion. As for me I
remained their prisoner, and have been their slave for two years. It is
but now that I have been ransomed by my friends. I have told you the
truth, and hope you will acquit me of having in any way participated in
that bloody affair."
[Footnote P: It being understood, of course, that I render into
civilized expressions the language of this barbarian, and represent by
words and phrases what he could only convey by gestures or by signs.
[The _naïveté_ of those notes, and of the narrative in these passages,
is amusing.--ED.]]
[Footnote Q: A great village or encampment of Indians, among whom the
Spaniards had sent missionaries under the conduct of Signor Quadra; but
whence the latter were chased by Captain Vancouver, in 1792, as
mentioned in the Introduction.]
Our Indian having finished his discourse, we made him presents
proportioned to the melancholy satisfaction he had given us in
communicating the true history of the sad fate of our former companions,
and to the trouble he had taken in coming to us; so that he returned
apparently well satisfied with our liberality.
According to the narrative of this Indian, Captain Thorn, by his abrupt
manner and passionate temper, was the primary cause of his own death and
that of all on board his vessel. What appears certain at least, is, that
he was guilty of unpardonable negligence and imprudence, in not causing
the boarding netting to be rigged, as is the custom of all the
navigators who frequent this coast, and in suffering (contrary to his
instructions) too great a number of Indians to come on board at once.[R]
[Footnote R: It is equally evident that even at the time when Captain
Thorn was first notified of the dangerous crowd and threatening
appearance of the natives, a display of firearms would have sufficed to
prevent an outbreak. Had he come on deck with Mr. M'Kay and Mr. Lewis,
each armed with a musket, and a couple of pistols at the belt, it is
plain from the timidity the savages afterward displayed, that he might
have cleared the ship, probably without shedding a drop of blood.--ED.]
Captain Smith, of the Albatross, who had seen the wreck of the Tonquin,
in mentioning to us its sad fate, attributed the cause of the disaster
to the rash conduct of a Captain Ayres, of Boston. That navigator had
taken off, as I have mentioned already, ten or a dozen natives of
New-itty, as hunters, with a promise of bringing them back to their
country, which promise he inhumanly broke by leaving them on some desert
islands in Sir Francis Drake's Bay. The countrymen of these
unfortunates, indignant at the conduct of the American captain, had
sworn to avenge themselves on the first white men who appeared among
them. Chance willed it that our vessel was the first to enter that bay,
and the natives but too well executed on our people their project of
vengeance.
Whatever may, have been the first and principal cause of this misfortune
(for doubtless it is necessary to suppose more than one), seventeen
white men and twelve Sandwich-Islanders, were massacred: not one escaped
from the butchery, to bring us the news of it, but the Indian of _Gray's
Harbor_. The massacre of our people was avenged, it is true, by the
destruction of ten times the number of their murderers; but this
circumstance, which could perhaps gladden the heart of a savage, was a
feeble consolation (if it was any) for civilized men. The death of Mr.
Alexander M'Kay was an irreparable loss to the Company, which would
probably have been dissolved by the remaining partners, but for the
arrival of the energetic Mr. Hunt. Interesting as was the recital of the
Indian of Gray's Harbor throughout, when he came to the unhappy end of
that estimable man, marks of regret were visibly painted on the
countenances of all who listened.
At the beginning of September, Mr. M'Kenzie set off, with Messrs.
Wallace and Seton, to carry a supply of goods to the gentlemen wintering
in the interior, as well as to inform them of the arrangements
concluded with Mr. Hunt, and to enjoin them to send down all their furs,
and all the Sandwich-Islanders, that the former might be shipped for
America, and the latter sent back to their country.
NOTE.
It will never be known how or by whom the _Tonquin_ was blown up.
Some pretend to say that it was the work of James Lewis, but that
is impossible, for it appears from the narrative of the Indian that
he was one of the first persons murdered. It will be recollected
that five men got between decks from aloft, during the affray, and
four only were seen to quit the ship afterward in the boat. The
presumption was that the missing man must have done it, and in
further conversation with the Gray's Harbor Indian, he inclined to
that opinion, and even affirmed that the individual was the ship's
armorer, _Weeks_. It might also have been accidental. There was a
large quantity of powder in the run immediately under the cabin,
and it is not impossible that while the Indians were intent on
plunder, in opening some of the kegs they may have set fire to the
contents. Or again, the men, before quitting the ship, may have
lighted a slow train, which is the most likely supposition of all.