The Voyage of the Tonquin

In his scheme for controlling the fur trade of the Northwestern coast of America, and from there sweeping the Pacific, John Jacob Astor planned as has been seen, for a great trading post on the Pacific coast, approached by an overland route across the Rockies on the one hand; and by his ships sailing around Cape Horn to reinforce and supply the enterprise on the other.

He also designed to carry supplies to the Russian Fur Company further North, which heretofore, had been dependent on transient trading vessels, which had been reckless in their dealings with the natives.

After collecting a ship-load of furs on the Pacific coast, his vessels were to sail for China, and there exchange furs for teas and other commodities. With a fresh cargo, their final voyage was to New York, with their valuable freight, soon to be turned into money, having been two years in circling the globe. By means of the western posts, Mr. Astor hoped to draw to America the enormous trade of the Orient.

John Jacob Astor knew his principal rival in his great venture would be the Northwest Fur Company. They already had some stations in New Caledonia beyond the Rockies, but these were further North, and Mr. Astor hoped to win their co-operation in his new scheme, rather than enter into a competition, which would only result in the fierce rivalries that had injured the fur companies in the past. The American fur merchant, therefore, invited the Northwest Company to join him in this fresh enterprise, but finding his overtures rejected, he proceeded to interest a group of men, well acquainted with the fur trade, in his project, and formed the Pacific Fur Company in 1810.

The promoter himself was to provide all vessels, provisions, ammunition, arms, goods, and all other things needed for the enterprise, providing they did not exceed the sum of four hundred thousand dollars. One half of the one hundred shares of stock Mr. Astor was to hold, the remaining half to be distributed between his partners. For a trial period of five years, Mr. Astor would also bear all losses, after which they would be borne by the partners according to the number of shares they held. One of the partners, Wilson Price Hunt, a man of sterling qualities of character, and a native born American citizen, had been engaged on the western frontier in furnishing Indian traders with goods and equipment, and had gained much knowledge of Indian tribes, and the country which they inhabited. Mr. Hunt was appointed leader of the overland expedition from Montreal, with the responsibility of establishing posts along the route, and sending out groups of trappers. Eventually, he was to act as Mr. Astor's chief agent at Astoria.

Four other partners, all Scottish Canadians, Alexander McKay, Duncan McDougal, David Stuart and his nephew, Robert Stuart,—all men of experience in the fur trade, and two of them previously connected with the Northwest Company,—were to sail around the Horn, meeting the land party at the mouth of the Columbia. Meanwhile, Duncan McDougal was to act as Mr. Astor's proxy until the arrival of Mr. Hunt.

Captain Jonathan Thorn, an able seaman and skilled navigator, was placed in charge of the Tonquin, in which the four Scottish partners, together with twelve clerks, and a number of artisans, were to sail. The exaggerated reports which were circulated in regard to the wealth to be obtained on the Columbia, induced prominent merchants to seek for their sons appointments in the new company. Indeed, more positions were asked for, than there were openings to be filled, and many desirable young men were turned away.

Added to those already mentioned, were thirteen Canadians, nine of whom, with Mr. McKay as commander, loyal to the traditions of their calling, set out from Montreal to show "the States" a genuine crew of Canadian voyageurs, in one of their picturesque canoes. They embarked on the 26th of July, in gala array, their hats trimmed with ribbons and feathers; and by river and portage reached Lake Champlain, where after "well calking their seams," they traversed the length of the Lake, and again portaged their canoes to the Hudson. One fine summer day they plied their oars merrily down the river, singing their French boat songs past village and farm house, indulging occasionally in a war-whoop to startle the staid Dutch residents along shore. They closed their exhibition as they swept around New York in a still summer evening, with their songs echoing along wharves and docks, and up the intersecting streets. They were full of bravado and recommended themselves as ready "to live hard, lie hard, eat dogs,"—or endure any hardships.

Mr. Astor addressed a letter to the four partners about to embark on the Tonquin, enjoining them to cultivate harmony and unanimity, and suggested that all differences be settled by a majority vote. "If you find the Indians kind," he wrote, "as I hope you will, be so to them. If otherwise, act with caution and forbearance, and convince them that you come as friends."

In a letter of instruction to Captain Thorn, he closed with the sentence: "I must recommend you to be particularly careful on the coast, and not to rely too much on the friendly disposition of the natives. All accidents which have yet happened there, arose from too much confidence in the Indians."

On the morning of the 8th of September, 1810, the Tonquin put to sea. Almost from the start there were disagreements between the Captain and the partners. The Captain had a naval officer's contempt for the merchant service, and was annoyed and irritated, as he wrote Mr. Astor, at the daintiness of his cabin passengers with regard to their food; the familiarity between partners and voyageurs; the fresh interest of these scribbling young men in every small detail of the voyage; and their willingness to delay their passage by stopping on any attractive coast. To him, the partners seemed to show but small sense of the great purposes and aims of the voyage, and they in turn, found him crusty and domineering.

Gabriel Franchére, one of the young men who was keeping a journal, speaks frankly of their pleasure in setting their feet on solid land, after continuous storms at sea, and that while stopping at the Falkland Islands, with the hope of obtaining a fresh supply of water, two of the partners and some of the voyageurs, who had been allowed a boat, wandered over the island killing geese and ducks, an agreeable addition to their bill of fare. That they prolonged their pleasure until they came very near being left behind by the Tonquin, was looked upon in vastly different light by Captain Thorn and the hunters.

The vessel made good time, and doubled Cape Horn on Christmas Day, and Franchére mentions that on this date he could "read on deck at midnight, without artificial light." By the early part of February, they sighted the Sandwich Islands. Visits of ceremony were exchanged with the King of the Islands, the partners returning his visit clad in plaids and kilts. It was a part of Mr. Astor's plan to establish friendly relations with the islanders, and at some future date purchase one of the islands as a fur station, since their position made them important stopping places on the way to China, or the Northwest coast of America.

While diplomatic negotations were going on between the partners and the King, Captain Thorn was engaged in laying in supplies of goats, sheep, hogs and poultry, besides water and vegetables; which to his practical mind seemed of greater importance.

Running through severe storms, they arrived safely in sight of their destination on March 22nd, 1811, having sailed twenty thousand miles since they left Sandy Hook, occupying in all one hundred and ninety days.

They found the waves beating in furious surges over the bar at the mouth of the Columbia. In finding a channel through which they might enter, twice over a boat-load of men were lost in the breakers, or carried away by the fierce current,—initial disasters keenly felt by all on board. Though they searched the sea with glasses, and scoured the shore later, only two of their comrades were afterward found alive.

The ship was at length safely anchored in Baker's Bay, within Cape Disappointment, which terminated in a high point of land crowned with pine trees. This promontory formed the north side of the entrance to the Columbia. Four Indian tribes inhabited the near neighborhood, living chiefly by fishing, their canoes cut from the trunks of single trees, sometimes as long as fifty feet. The adventurers selected a site for their establishment, on a tongue of land called "Point George," which had a very good harbor.

"We imagained ourselves in the garden of Eden," wrote Franchére. "The forests seemed to us delightful groves, and the leaves transformed to brilliant flowers."

Goods were landed, trees cut down, thickets cleared away, the angles of the fort traced; after which a residence, store-house, and powder-magazine were erected out of logs covered with bark. They had brought timbers for a coasting vessel, and these were put together, while others of the party made garden and sowed vegetable seed, to supply their future needs.

The post was named "Astoria" after its promoter and supporter, and thus was founded the first United States settlement ever begun on the Pacific, and John Jacob Astor's vast enterprise seemed to be well started.

While looking for a suitable site, McKay and McDougal had visited the village of the Chinooks, the flat-headed tribe who were their nearest neighbors, and made acquaintance with Comcomly, their one-eyed chief. They were hospitably received with a feast of fish and game, after which Comcomly's wife and daughters devoted themselves to the entertainment of their guests.

McDougal had introduced himself and his companion as two chiefs of a great trading company, and Comcomly had sufficient familiarity in trading with the whites, to recognize the value of an alliance with the new establishment.

Three months later the Tonquin sailed on her first business venture. According to Mr. Astor's orders, she was to coast along toward the north, and enter the various harbors, in order to procure as many furs as possible from the Indians, touching at Astoria in the autumn, and picking up such furs as they might have gathered during the summer, before making her way to Canton. Alexender McKay accompanied the ship as supercargo, taking young Lewis with him as ship's clerk. There were twenty others of the party also on board.

The Tonquin had hardly sailed out of sight, when reports reached those at the fort, that a party of white men were building houses at the second rapids of the Columbia. A reconnoitering party was at once sent up the river as far as the falls, meeting with some warlike Indians on the way, whom they were fortunate enough to appease with gifts; but no rival company was discovered, and the little party returned.

The report was later confirmed by two Indians, that the Northwest Company was building a trading post on the Spokane Kiver, where it joined the Columbia. Preparations were immediately made to advance a counter check to this post on the Spokane, and David Stuart with eight men and a supply of goods, were nearly ready to set out, when a canoe manned by white men, with the British ensign flying, stopped in front of the fort.

Their leader proved to be David Thompson, who had been despatched by the Northwest Company the previous year, to forestall Mr. Astor on the Columbia. Half of his party had deserted him east of the Rockies, but he had crossed the mountains with eight men. Duncan McDougal received Thompson cordially, entertaining him while he staid, and fitting him out for his return with goods and provisions, to the marked disapproval of other employes of the Astor Company.

Stuart and Thompson set out together on their trip up river. They passed high rocky shores and low marshy islands, wildly dashing falls and rapids, and many bays and indentations. Tall pines lifted themselves to the skies from the uplands, sometimes two or three hundred feet in height, and of large girth. Out of trees such as these the Indians fashioned their longest canoes.

Thompson suggested a number of good sites for a post as they traveled along, but Stuart did not trust his adviser. However, he stopped at one of these favorable points until Thompson was out of sight, then moved on, choosing the position of his own trading post about one hundred and forty miles from the Spokane River. From the drift wood that collected in quantities in the bends of the river, they built a house, and thus established the first interior post of the American Trading Company.

On their way they had passed an interesting fishing center, which afterward became a place of considerable importance in the adventures of the little colony. The "Long Narrows," three miles in length, was the great fishing place of the Indians. Here salmon abounded in the river in large numbers, and Indians, standing on the rocks scooped them up in nets hung from long poles. The village of Wish-ram at the head of the Long Narrows, proved to be an Indian trading mart, from which center, salmon,—dried, cured, and packed,—was exchanged with the tribes from the Rocky Mountains, for horses, bear grease, quamash, and other articles of the interior; and with the tribes from the mouth of the Columbia, for the fish of the sea coast, roots, berries, wappatoo, and goods and trinkets obtained from trading vessels.

The Indians of Wish-ram were a piratical band as well as good traders, given to taking toll of all who passed through the Long Narrows.

Some rumors of a conspiracy among the Indians, caused the Astorians at the fort to hasten their defenses for refuge. In a few days their dwelling house and magazine were surrounded with palisades ninety feet square, flanked by two bastions on which were mounted four, four-pounders.

In the midst of this anxiety, a report reached them of disaster to the Tonquin. The rumor was not credited until repeated later by a second tribe of Indians, who had come to fish for sturgeon at the mouth of the Columbia.

The Tonquin had made her way up the coast buying furs when offered. At one of her stops an Indian, named Lamazee, was engaged as interpreter. About the middle of June the ship entered Nootka Sound, and anchored at a large Indian village called Newity. Though the interpreter warned Captain Thorn against the natives of this section, they at first seemed friendly, and Mr. McKay, who had a wide experience with savage tribes, accepted the invitation of one of the chiefs, and spent the night on the island.

The next morning the Indians came aboard to trade, bringing an abundance of sea-otter skins. Captain Thorn spread out his blankets, knives, beads and fish hooks, but the Indians asked exorbitant prices for the skins, and at last an old chief, following the Captain back and forth with a roll of furs, began to jeer and banter him on the mean prices he offered. Whereupon Captain Thorn lost his last remnant of patience, and grasping the skins, threw them in the Indian's face, ordering him and his companions from the ship. The old chief left in a passion, and the rest of the Indians followed breathing vengance.

Early the next morning they again appeared alongside, their grievances apparently forgotten. They were unarmed and appeared friendly, holding np skins for sale. Mr. Astor's directions to only allow a few Indians on board at a time had been forgotten, and the officer of the watch allowed as many as would to clamber upon deck.

Immediately the buying and selling commenced, the Indians allowing the white men to set the prices. Many of them purchased knives. Canoe load after canoe load arrived till the deck was full of savages, whose friendly aspect began to give place to scowls and menace. Lamazee, the interpreter, suspected that weapons were hidden in bundles of furs. Mr. McKay became alarmed and suggested that the ship be gotten under way at once

The anchor was nearly up and the sails loose, when the Captain ordered the ship cleared. With a fierce yell Indian knives and war-clubs were brandished in every direction. Not a man of the ship's crew was armed. Young Lewis was the first to fall, receiving a deadly blow that knocked him down the companionway. Mr. McKay sprang to his feet, but was knocked over board and killed from the canoes. Captain Thorn made a desperate fight with nothing but his clasp knife for a weapon, but was stabbed to death on his own deck.

The Astorians fought bravely and recklessly, but unarmed, they stood no chance in the fierce onslaught. Five sailors who had been aloft, let themselves down by the rigging, and dashed for the steerage hatch. Here they broke through into the cabin, where they found young Lewis. Barricading themselves, they opened a fire with their muskets that soon cleared the deck. The Indians fled leaving their dead behind them. The rest of the day and night all was quiet. The Touquin lay still in the bay, her sails loose and flapping in the wind, no sign of life upon her.

The Indians no doubt meant to avenge the insult that had been offered them, but they had also sworn to be avenged on the next ship that entered the Sound, because of the cruel action of an earlier skipper, who had marooned twelve of their tribe on a barren coast hundreds of miles away. The next ship to enter the Sound was the ill-fated Tonquin.

Cautiously the Indians paddled about the ship once more when day dawned. One man appeared on deck and motioned them aboard, then disappeared. There seemed to be nothing to fear, and the swarming Indians boarded their prize. In the midst of their exultation, with a thundering noise the ship blew up, carrying into eternity, over two hundred savages, and with them any adventurer who may still have been alive upon the vessel.

This terrible revenge has been variously attributed to Lewis, the young secretary, and to Weeks the armorer, who had been mortally wounded while escaping from the rigging. Ross Cox is authority for the statement that the four sailors, who escaped in a boat early in the morning, lighted a slow train before leaving the ship. All four sailors were later captured and killed by the Indians. The interpreter was saved, though made a slave. He escaped months later, and brought the detailed story of the bloody tragedy to Astoria.

The loss of the Tonquin, with all on board, was a grevious blow to the infant trading post. Back in New York, Mr. Astor, remembering his careful instructions, awaited news which did not reach him for many months. When it did, he spoke of it as a "calamity the length of which he could not foresee."

He sought however immediately for a remedy; and the same evening appeared at the theater, strong and composed. A friend expressed his surprise at his calmness, after such disastrous tidings.

"What would you have me do?" was the staunch reply. "Would you have me stay at home and weep, for what I cannot help?"

With the loss of the Tonquin and her crew, it was felt that something must be done to emphasize the strength of the remainder of the post. In this emergency, McDougal gathered the chieftains who were believed to have been in the conspiracy, and told them he had heard of the treachery of some of their Northern brethren toward the Tonquin, and was planning vengeance.

He said their white camp was small in number, but mighty in medicine, "In this bottle," he declared, "I hold the smallpox safely corked. I have but to draw the cork, and let loose the pestilence to sweep man. woman and child from the face of the earth."

The chieftans knew the dire effects of smallpox among their people, and they begged that the wrong doing of other tribes should not be avenged upon them, swearing friendship to the white men.

McDougal promised as long as the whites were unmolested, the vial of wrath should remain sealed, but should enmity be shown, the cork would at once be drawn. This event won McDougal the name of the "Great Smallpox Chief."

A large house of stone cemented with clay, was finished by October. The schooner which they had been building, was also launched and christened "The Dolly," in honor of Mrs. Astor.

A detachment from David Stuart's post arrived with favorable accounts of their camp, but the decision of their leader was to divide the little force, since there might not be provision for all during the winter. David Stuart, with three other stout-hearted men, remained for the winter in the depths of a savage wilderness, seven hundred miles from the main body of the adventurers.

The long rainy season was just ahead, and the Indians drew into the shelter of the forest further inland. With their departure provisions became scanty, and the adventurers had need to depend on the precarious hunt of one of the natives who had not abandoned them, when the rest of their countrymen retired. The ordinary price of a stag, when they were lucky enough to get one, was a "a blanket, a knife, some tobacco, powder and ball, besides supplying the hunter with a musket." The Dolly was also sent on foraging expeditions.

But in spite of all drawbacks, the little post of Astoria kept up its courage, and ushered in the year 1812 with a beating of drums, discharging of cannon and the hoisting of colors. A good dinner was served, and the Canadian voyageurs ended the celebration by dancing till three in the morning.