Chapter V: Part II: Norwest John and the Voyage of the Juno (1)

1--NORWEST JOHN

John De Wolf was born in Bristol on September 6, 1779. His father, Simon, the third son of Mark Anthony, founder of the Bristol family, was lost at sea with his older brother, Mark, in 1779 or ’80, when his only child was but an infant in arms. He was forced by poverty to begin a seafaring life at the age of thirteen. His great ability quickly manifested itself and at the age of twenty-four he was placed in command of a vessel bound on one of the most fascinating as well as one of the most hazardous voyages known to the commerce of that time, a voyage to the Northwest Coast. The story of his experiences he tells in the pages that follow. For some years after his return to his native town he continued in the Russian-American trade for which the knowledge of the language gained during his stay in Russian territory well qualified him. Having attained the age of forty-eight he retired from the sea and for some years lived, like many retired captains, the life of a farmer, upon the farm occupied for years as a summer home by his relative, the late Bishop Howe of Central Pennsylvania. Thence he moved to a farm at Brighton, Massachusetts, and, leaving that, spent the last years of his life with his daughter, Mrs. Downing, at Dorchester. Very delightful must have been those last years. The daring sailor whose nerves had never failed him in moments of greatest peril on the ocean was a man of tender nature and of a most lovable disposition.

Of him his granddaughter penned this beautiful picture:[23]

“I never knew a more beautiful old age. Beloved by those of all ages, he had many friends among the young people and was young with them, and his grandchildren were devoted to him. They called him ‘White Grandpa,’ on account of his silvery hair, to distinguish him from my father. They always knew in just what spot in the room to look for candy and fruits which he always had for them, and if there was anything they particularly wanted they were always sure that ‘White Grandpa’ would give it to them. Like so many old people it was hard for him to adapt himself to modern improvements. And especially the new ideas of shipbuilding were not always to his liking. At a window of a room in our summer home, commanding a fine view of Boston harbor, we would often find him holding his spy-glass at arm’s length, and if sometimes we would ask ‘What do you see, Grandpa?’ he would invariably reply, ‘I was looking at those blasted three masted schooners.’”

In the days of his life at sea a three masted schooner was almost unknown, and the schooner rigged vessel was rarely seen except on the American coast of the North Atlantic Ocean. Everywhere else square sails were the rule. Even the “tub” of twenty-five tons on which Captain De Wolf made his voyage of twenty-five hundred miles to Ochotsk was a brig. At his death no naval constructor had dreamed of a five masted schooner, and a seven master would have been deemed impossible. Today all the great colliers carry five or six masts and there is not a square rigger among them. The schooner rig is distinctively American. The first schooner ever constructed is said to have been built in Gloucester, Massachusetts, about the year 1713, by Captain Andrew Robinson. In two centuries it has driven the square rigged ship from the Atlantic coast of North America. In the great ports upon the Pacific coast square sails are still frequent, though they are seen for the most part upon the masts of foreign ships. The schooner rig has conquered even that former home of most rigid conservatism which was opened to the commerce of the world in 1854, by a Rhode Island naval officer, when Commodore M. C. Perry dropped anchor near the little fishing village of Yokohama, Japan. As one passes through the “Inland Sea” today he notes that all the fleet craft skimming over its waves are rigged in the American way. The schooner has driven the slow moving “junk” out of business as far as those waters are concerned.

Captain De Wolf died in Dorchester, on March 8, 1872, aged ninety-two.

2--VOYAGE OF THE JUNO

A VOYAGE TO THE NORTH PACIFIC AND A JOURNEY THROUGH SIBERIA MORE THAN HALF A CENTURY AGO. BY CAPTAIN JOHN D’WOLF. (CAMBRIDGE, 1861)

_Preface_

My only object in combining the reminiscences and memoranda of my first voyage as a shipmaster into a connected narrative is to leave some slight record of that voyage in my family. Although I am not one of those who regard everything beyond the smoke of their own chimneys as marvellous I think my expedition to the Northwest Coast was made a little remarkable from the circumstance that I met at Norfolk Sound his Excellency Baron von Resanoff, to whom I sold my vessel, and then crossed the Pacific in a little craft of twenty-five tons burden, and after an overland journey of twenty-five hundred miles returned home by way of St. Petersburg. This was a voyage and travels more than half a century ago, and I was probably the first American who passed through Siberia. I know that others have claimed to be the first, and have published descriptions of the country; but I had gone over the same route before any of these claimants were born. I have often regretted that I did not make any note of what I saw, and that I had not the requisite qualifications to write an extended account of it; but business called my thoughts in other directions. I must now be content to give this imperfect sketch, the materials of which are drawn principally from memory.

VOYAGE.

I.

The Ship Juno.--Her Outfit.--And Voyage to the Northwest Coast.

I commenced a seafaring life at the early age of thirteen, and followed it through all its changes, continually rising in rank, until I reached my twenty-fourth year. Then, after a series of long voyages to the eastward of the Cape of Good Hope as chief mate, in the summer of 1804 I returned to my native town, resolved on a short respite of a few months from a close application of eleven years. I had enjoyed this leisure but a little while, however, when my employers, Messrs. Charles, James, and George D’Wolf, purchased a fine ship,[24] called the Juno, of about two hundred and fifty tons burden, and projected a voyage to the Northwest Coast of America to collect furs for the China market. They proposed that I should take the command. I had no expectation of such an offer, since I thought myself too young and inexperienced to enter upon an entirely new branch of trade, and entertained some misgivings of my qualifications for such an enterprise. At the same time I could not so far doubt my abilities as to neglect so advantageous an opportunity, and I therefore accepted the trust.

Having engaged in the undertaking, we lost no time in making the necessary arrangements, in procuring a cargo suitable for traffic, and in preparing the vessel for the voyage. When ready for sea, the Juno and her lading were valued at $35,000. The Juno at that day was considered a crack ship, and her outfit embraced all that was needed for both comfort and convenience. She mounted eight carriage guns, and was otherwise armed in proportion, and when hauled into the stream presented quite a formidable and warlike appearance. Such an equipment was essential in her time for the dangerous business for which she was destined. The crew also would now be considered too large for a craft of the same tonnage,--for it numbered twenty-six men and boys, viz: Samuel G. Newell, First Mate; John A. Thomas, Second Mate; James Moorfield, Clerk; Richard Cammett, Joseph Hooper, Armorers; Thomas Hunt, Boatswain; John Jones, Carpenter; D. Bucklin, E. Bucklin, W. H. Tripp, D. Tatton, J. Stokes, J. Wheeler, W. Foy, J. Marshall, J. D. Cook, W. Phipps, J. Wheesner, J. Powers, S. Patterson, Seamen; J. Hanson, Cook; E. D. Parker, Musician; R. Hitchcock, Tailor; T. Murphy, J. Mahoney, boys. Thus manned and equipped, we took leave of our friends, weighed anchor, and put to sea on the 13th of August, 1804.

Having now fairly embarked again on the ocean, which had become a home to me, I began immediately to attend to those duties which its dangers imposed. Our anchors and cables were soon stowed away, the crew divided, the watch set, and everything prepared for all winds and weathers. We sailed in a southeasterly direction, with light breezes, and for a number of days nothing varied the monotony which the sea wears to those who have been long accustomed to it. On the 20th of September we saw at a distance St. Antonio, one of the Cape de Verde Islands. We then bent our course to the south, and were favored with fine leading winds until we reached that region of the ocean between the northeast and southeast trade-winds, which is doomed to perpetual squalls and calms, thunder, lightning, and rain. This vexatious weather was the source of one advantage, however. It afforded an opportunity for filling our water-casks, which was essential in the long voyage and moderate progress we were making.

On the 9th of November we crossed the equator in longitude 24° W. Fifty-six days to the line! Well, this certainly seems to be a long passage in comparison with those made in more modern times by the straight course pointed out by Lieut. Maury. Yet the difference is not so very extraordinary, when we consider the improvements in the sciences of navigation and naval architecture. Clippers may pursue a route with impunity which was not so safe or practicable for the square-built, seven-knot ships of half a century ago. The straight course was by no means unknown in those days, and it was sometimes followed; but with dull sailing vessels it was necessary to be more cautious, and make their “easting” while in the region of variable winds. That we crossed the Atlantic, in my time, thrice, as it is said, in going to the Cape of Good Hope, I deny. A majority of the passages made by the circuitous track would compare favorably with those made now by the same class of ships, notwithstanding the superior knowledge of winds and currents, and the numerous nautical instruments of which sea-captains avail themselves. At all events, navigation is not now carried on with more, if as much safety as formerly. Inducements are held out, in these go-ahead days, to make quick passages, regardless of ship and cargo, and the interests of the underwriters. Too implicit reliance is placed on instruments and figures at the expense of that most essential point in navigation, a vigilant lookout, and to the neglect of the use of the lead.

October 10th. We fell in with a large Spanish ship from Havana for Rio Janeiro, ninety days out. Being now several degrees in south latitude, the weather was serene and the sea smooth; there was a fine breeze from the southeast. On the 12th, we spoke a Portuguese ship from Oporto, also bound to Rio Janeiro. She had a large number of passengers on board, many of whom were sick, as they were destitute of all kinds of vegetables. I supplied them with potatoes and onions, for which they were very grateful, and presented in return a quantity of Port wine. A continuance of the pleasant weather enabled us to make various repairs in the rigging, which had been drenched and buffeted by incessant tempests to the north of the line. The change seemed to put new life and animation into the whole crew. All hands were actively employed with a good will in their various departments,--the armorers at the forge, the carpenter fitting the boats for service on the coast, the sail-makers upon the sails. Thus the vessel was put in fine condition for meeting the rough gales of Cape Horn. These we began to encounter in lat. 40° S.

November 12th, lat. 48° S., long. 51° W., we fell in with the ship Mary, of Boston, Capt. Trescott, bound to the Northwest Coast of America, and I agreed to keep company with him until we had doubled the Cape. This arrangement could be no impediment to our progress, as our vessels were nearly equal sailors.--November 15th, we saw the Falkland Islands bearing from southeast to southwest, fifteen miles distant. From our longitude we judged ourselves to be nearer the western extremity, but the wind inclining westward compelled us to pass to the eastward of them.--November 19th, the wind from the westward increased to a gale, with a heavy swell, which brought both ships under short sail. At eight, P. M., the Mary bore upon our weather quarter, about two miles distant. At ten, the wind continuing the same, I left the deck, charging the officer of the watch to be careful that we did not approach each other too near. At daylight it was perceived that she had approached us considerably, though she still held a position on the weather quarter at a sufficient distance to be out of danger. But through inattention of the officer on board the Mary to the steering, she was brought under our lee within hail; of this I was not informed by the mate in command on the deck. The Juno was making but slow progress through the water, being under short sail, with a heavy sea running, and obliged to keep close to the wind in order to avoid a collision. In this way, the ship’s headway would be so checked that she would fall off two or three points, regardless of the helm. While thus situated, the Mary was in the act of coming to, and the Juno falling off, when, before either ship had gained sufficient headway to be under quick command of the helm, our whole broadsides came into contact with a crash that made every timber quake. I immediately rushed on deck, and beheld with amazement our perilous situation. In which, spite of all our efforts to get clear, we remained nearly fifteen minutes, cutting and tearing our bulwarks, channels, and plank-sheer, and making sad work with our rigging. Finally we separated, and without apparently sustaining any injury below our plank-sheer.

This may be an uninteresting matter for record to many, but it is one of those casualties which not infrequently occur from a reckless neglect, or a want of ordinary judgment, and yet where no one is willing to acknowledge himself at fault. They show that caution is to be regarded as a cardinal point of practical navigation. I am bold to say, that, if I had been apprised of our proximity, the collision would never have taken place.

When endeavoring to extricate the two ships, Mr. Stetson, first mate of the Mary, while on a poise upon her railing, to save himself from falling overboard, made a leap for the Juno, and landed on her deck. In the course of the day the weather became more moderate, and we put him aboard his own ship and continued our course without attempting to keep company with her. We were favored with mild weather until the 24th, which brought us into lat. 56° S. Here commenced a series of very severe gales from the westward, which continued with unabated violence for ten days. On the 5th of December the wind veered to the southward, which enabled us to make some progress, so that on the 10th I judged myself fairly to the north and west of the Cape, and a fine southwest wind was carrying us fast from it. On the 13th, as luck would have it, we fell in again with our old consort, the Mary, and sailed along with her until the 29th. Being then in lat. 44° S. and long. 85° W., I deemed it expedient to hold a consultation with my officers on the propriety of touching upon the coast of Chili, in preference to the Sandwich Islands, which was our previous intention. This was thought advisable on account of the damage sustained during our boisterous passage of one hundred and thirty-eight days. The copper on the ship’s bottom, which had been worn as thin as paper during a previous long voyage of three years, had now become full of holes, and was torn off in many places by whole sheets. This and other injuries which could not be repaired at sea, in addition to the fact that all our fuel was consumed except that stowed under the cargo, and on this account we had for some time been obliged to dispense with cooking oftener than once a week, induced us to part company again with the Mary, and shape our course for Concepcion. I was well aware of the natural and deep-rooted jealousy of the Spaniards; but while I apprehended trouble on this score, I was determined to find admittance to some port, after having relinquished my original scheme of visiting the Sandwich Islands.

On the 1st of January, 1805, at 2 P. M., we saw land bearing from southeast to northeast, fifteen miles distant, and shortly after the island of St. Maria. At the same time we saw a ship standing out from the shore, which we spoke. She was a whaler from New Bedford. The wind was blowing so hard that we could learn nothing further. At sunset it had died away, and left us still four or five miles off Concepcion. As it was not practicable to make the harbor in the night-time, we tacked ship and stood out from the coast, with a view to holding our situation to the windward until morning, and at midnight we tacked and stood in again. At daybreak, however, we found the current had set us a considerable distance north of our port. I accordingly resolved to make sail for Valparaiso; since that was the principal port in Chili, we had reason to anticipate a better reception than at any place of less note, where our presence might have excited unjust suspicions of unlawful trade. Our sole object was to repair our vessel and obtain supplies for our voyage, and these by the laws of humanity they could not in justice refuse us.

The weather continued remarkably serene and pleasant, with light breezes and frequent calms; and as we coasted along within eight or ten miles of the shore, we had a most splendid view of the Andes, towering far above the clouds. On the morning of the 8th, we entered the bay of Valparaiso. Before we reached a safe anchorage, we were visited by an officer from the Governor, who requested to know who we were, whence we came, and the object of our visit,--all of which I explained to his apparent satisfaction. The boat then returned to the shore with a message to the Governor, while the officer remained on board, saying that he could not suffer us to anchor until he received orders. But before the boat returned, the ship had reached the anchorage ground, and we came to immediately, notwithstanding his remonstrances. The boat brought a peremptory command to leave the bay; but this was out of the question, and so I as peremptorily refused. I was summoned before the Governor to present my papers for examination, and account for my conduct. After examining my invoices and other documents, and listening to a candid explanation of the reasons which induced me to come into port, he was convinced that my destination was the Northwest Coast. I was accordingly permitted to remain until I received further orders from the Governor-General, at St. Jago, to whom a messenger was despatched. In the mean time I was allowed to take on board as much wood and water, and fresh provisions, as I chose. The harbor was too rough and exposed, to make the repairs we needed, and therefore we weighed anchor and sailed for Coquimbo, where we arrived on the 20th, and dropped anchor in six fathoms of water, on the west side of the bay, about eight miles from the town. Here we remained until the 28th, when, having completed our repairs as far as practicable, we put to sea with a fine breeze from the south.

When we reached 4° S. lat., we had series of calms, with pleasant weather, and a very smooth sea. In this neighborhood we saw great numbers of green turtle, and by capturing several we added a delicacy to our larder. February 20th, between 9 and 11 A. M., I obtained several distances of the sun and moon, the mean of which made the long. 108° W.; at meridian, I found we had crossed the equator into north latitude. The wind continued very light and variable until the 4th of March, when it inclined to the northeast. On the 16th, we crossed the Tropic of Cancer. At this point the winds again became variable and squally. On the 7th of April, we had strong gales and threatening sky, with rain at intervals. At 8 P. M. of that date I put the ship under short sail, and hauled upon the wind to the northward, deeming it imprudent to continue on our course through the night, because, by my calculations, we were in the vicinity of land. In the morning the weather moderated, and at 5 A. M. we saw land bearing from north-northeast to east, which proved to be the northern part of Vancouver’s Island. At 2 P. M. we saw Scott’s Island bearing north-northwest, sixteen miles distant. At nightfall the clouds wore an ugly look; so we hauled by the wind to the westward, under short sail. At midnight we had a heavy blow, but it died away by light, and we saw Scott’s Island again; at 9 A. M. it bore south, five miles. The wind beginning again to rise, I determined if possible to make a harbor before night. With this intention I shaped my course for Newettee.

Newettee was a small inlet in the northwestern promontory of Vancouver’s Island, and sheltered from the sea by a long island running nearly east and west. Between the two was a strait, through which we must enter to gain our port. As we drew near the entrance, the wind became very light, and at sunset we were still three miles from it. Being myself entirely unacquainted with the coast, I was inclined to lay off until morning; but my officers were all more or less familiar with it, and so positive of their knowledge that I concluded to proceed. At eight in the evening we crossed the bar at the mouth of the strait, and entered. The wind had fallen now to a dead calm, and left us exposed to a very strong current, which carried us toward an inlet in the island to the north of us; and at the same time it was evident that we were approaching the shore very fast. Nothing could surpass the terrific appearance of the scenery; perpendicular cliffs towered from the water’s edge to a lofty height, against which the sea beat with great violence. The ship getting no steerage-way from her sails, and being in fact entirely unmanageable, we hoisted out our boats to tow. The long-boat, which was of the most consequence, sunk alongside; the yawl and the whaleboat were both got ahead, but were so light that they had very little effect on the vessel. We were now within three rods of a high projecting point, and the soundings showed forty-five fathoms of water. We let go the kedge-anchor to keep the bow off, and it had the desired effect. By great exertions in the boats, assisted in the ship by the application of all the oars we had, we barely succeeded in keeping clear of the rocks, which could now be reached with an oar. As the tide swept us along, we were threatened with destruction by every sea which dashed against them. At length, by the aid of a light air which sprung up, we got out of the irregular current near the shore, and, slipping our cable and leaving our anchor, moved towards the harbor on the south side of the straits. When about two thirds of the way across, I despatched a boat with an officer to find the entrance. The boat not returning in due time, I discharged a musket as a signal. It was answered from a vessel lying within, and shortly after one of the officers came aboard her, and informed us that it was the ship Pearl of Boston, Capt. Ebbets.[25] He very politely offered to pilot us in, and by his assistance we were soon brought safely to anchor in fifteen fathoms of water. This was the 10th of April, 1805.

II.

Newettee and the Natives.--Kygarney.--Norfolk Sound.--Sell
Part of my Cargo to the Russians.--Governor Baranoff.--Chatham
Straits.--Newettee again.--Return to Chatham Straits.--Trade
with the Indians.--On the Rocks.--Sail to Norfolk Sound for
Repairs.--Arrival of Resanoff and Party.--The Juno sold to the
Russians.--Departure of my Crew for Canton.

At last I was at anchor on the Northwest Coast. Newettee was one of the southernmost harbors frequented by American fur-traders, being in lat. 51° N., and long. 128° W. It was nothing more than a nook, as I said before, in the northern end of Vancouver’s Island. We found it tolerably well sheltered from all winds except those from the north and northeast; on this quarter it was exposed to a reach of about three miles. As the prevalent wind during our stay of ten days was from the south and southwest, we lay in perfect safety, notwithstanding it was one continued gale, accompanied with hail and rain. Everything around us, the sea, the sky, and the precipitous shore, covered with a forest of heavy timber, wore a most gloomy aspect. The Indians had no permanent residence here, but made it merely a place of resort for traffic on the arrival of ships. For this purpose it was considered at certain seasons one of the best harbors on the coast, as there are many large villages in its vicinity. We were visited daily by a great number of the Indians, who generally brought with them a few sea-otter skins, but not enough to make trade brisk. They were exceedingly sharp in all their intercourse with us, being great beggars, withal. It seemed impossible to satisfy them for their skins, and they were ready to grasp at everything they saw. They were a very stout and robust people, and in some things not destitute of skill. Their boats were hewn from a single log, and varied in size from sixteen feet in length and three in breadth, to thirty-five in length and six in breadth. Their paddles were made and ornamented with a great deal of neatness.

Deriving but little benefit from our traffic, we employed ourselves in putting the ship in good order for beating about the coast. By the 20th we had completed our work, and weighed anchor, and put to sea in company with the Pearl, directing our course to the northward of Kygarney, a harbor in lat. 54°30′ N., which, from its central situation, is considered the best place of resort for ships on their first arrival, to obtain information for establishing a rate of trade. For several days we sailed in a thick fog, which, lifting at intervals, showed us different points of Queen Charlotte’s Island. We gained our port on the 27th, and found there the ships Vancouver, Captain Brown, and Caroline, Captain Sturgis, both of Boston; the latter, having obtained her cargo, about to leave the coast for Canton.

During our stay here we got in a new mizzen-mast in place of the old one, which was sprung, and furnished our vessel with such other spars as we thought we should need. We were daily visited by the Indians, who generally brought a few skins; but they were so extravagant in their demands for them that it was impossible to trade. We frequently had thirty or forty lying about the decks the whole day long, endeavoring to extort unreasonable prices for their furs, at the same time affecting the utmost indifference whether they sold them or not. Occasionally they were quite insulting; but policy induced us to put up with insults, in hopes of driving a bargain.

The numerous inlets in the vicinity abounded with salmon, and every other variety of fish, and wild game was very plenty. But on the whole the harbor was poor and unsafe. The land here, as at Newettee, was exceedingly elevated, rising abruptly from the shore, and covered with heavy timber, chiefly of the fir kind. The water is very deep, which compelled a vessel to anchor so near the land as to be exposed to any hostile demonstration on the part of the savages.[26] Attacks were not rare when only one ship was in port. From long intercourse with American traders, the natives had become extremely expert in the use of the musket, in the choice of which they showed great judgment and sagacity, and invariably selected a king’s arm in preference to the most finished fowling-piece. On account of the many instances of bloodshed by them, they were not allowed to come on board armed, but it was necessary to show them every indulgence within the bounds of prudence.

Not being likely to receive much benefit from a longer stay here, I resolved to proceed at once to the settlement of the Russians on Norfolk Sound, since a great part of my cargo consisted of articles adapted to their use. We had rum, tobacco, molasses, sugar, rice, wooden ware, duffels,[27] &c., which the Indians will take only as presents, as well as those commodities intended for trade with them, viz. blankets, muskets, powder, and balls.

On the 7th of May we put to sea, with pleasant weather and a moderate breeze from the west, and directed our course to the northward. On the 8th, the wind increased to a gale, and veered to the south, which brought thick fog and rain. On the 9th it became clear, and we obtained a good view of the land, and discovered that we were near the entrance of the sound, about mid-channel, with Mount Edgecombe bearing northwest, ten miles distant. We stood in under a press of sail, and at about eleven came to anchor in Magee’s Harbor, as it was called, on the west side of the sound. We found erected on the shore a guide-post, pointing out the direction of the village, and the date of its establishment. We were soon visited by several baidarkas[28] with Kodiak Indians, from whom we endeavored to obtain information. The only word they used, which we could understand, was Baranoff, which we knew to be the name of the governor or superintendent of the settlement. As soon as the news of our arrival in the sound reached there, a pilot was despatched to our assistance, and, the wind being favorable, he brought us round to the village, and we anchored on the 10th of May abreast of the fort.

Mr. Abraham Jones, an American in the Russian service, immediately came on board, with the Governor’s compliments, and kind offers of protection, and any aid we might need which it was in his power to give. Accompanied by Mr. Moorfield, I accepted an invitation to go on shore and have an interview with him. Mr. Jones officiated as interpreter. I was introduced by him to his Excellency, and received with every mark of friendship and hospitality. After exchanging the usual compliments, we were ushered into an apartment where we found a table spread with all the luxuries the place afforded. While we regaled ourselves with the sumptuous fare, the conversation turned to the subject of my cargo. The Governor appeared willing and desirous to exchange furs on fair terms for such articles as they needed. We returned on board in the evening, well pleased with our reception, I might say agreeably disappointed, as I had been led to believe from various reports that we should find the Russians little advanced from the savage state.

As the success of my voyage depended on the utmost possible despatch, no time was lost in establishing a rate of exchange with our new friends; which being adjusted to our mutual advantage, I was enabled to disencumber the vessel of a large portion of the bulkiest part of my cargo,--such as has been mentioned on a preceding page.

From the kind treatment received from the Governor, I was induced to form a very favorable opinion of him. He was sixty-five years of age, and had spent the last eighteen years of his life at different stations on the coast, in the capacity of agent and officer of the Russian American Company,--excluded, as it were, from all civilized society, except that of a few of his fellow-adventurers. He possessed a strong mind, easy manners and deportment, and was apparently well fitted for the place he filled. He commanded the greatest respect from the Indians, who regarded him with mingled feelings of love and fear.

Owing to frequent storms of rain, which unavoidably retarded the progress of our business, my stay at this place was prolonged until the 27th of May. With pleasant weather and a moderate breeze we then weighed anchor, and sailed from Norfolk Sound. We proceeded up Chatham Straits as high as Lynn Canal, in lat. 59° N., thence southward to Newettee in lat. 51° N., touching at as many of the intermediate harbors as we found it practicable, and making some trade. We arrived at Newettee on the 28th of June, at the same time with the brig Lydia and the ships Vancouver and Athawalpa. The latter had been attacked by the Indians, who killed Capt. Porter and all the officers, and wounded many of the sailors. She had fallen in with the other ship and brig, belonging to the same owners, and had proceeded to this place for assistance. Here we found the Pearl and the Mary.

I shall not attempt a detail of the occurrences, or give a description of the harbors and inlets we visited in our voyage from Norfolk Sound. While here we rendered all the assistance in our power in manning and equipping the Athawalpa for Canton, and then, on the 11th of July, again left Newettee and sailed northward for Chatham Straits. Touching at a number of places on our passage, on the 27th we entered the mouth of the straits, and proceeded up as far as Point Retreat in lat. 58° N. Here the Indians were very numerous, and appeared to have a great number of skins for sale, but declined trading, unless we brought the ship to anchor, which was unnecessary, as the wind was light and the sea smooth. There was nothing to interrupt a traffic if they really felt willing to open one; but, in order to comply with their wishes as far as possible, I made several attempts to get an anchorage, and was only prevented by the depth of the water. Still the Indians kept round us in great numbers, there being at least thirty or forty canoes of them. At the same time we perceived that they were all armed, and this, with their obstinacy, gave us strong suspicions that they were bent on mischief more than commerce. As it was nearly sunset, and there was no prospect of bringing them to terms, I concluded to make the best of my way down the straits. The wind was light, and the tide against us. The Indians, seeing plainly that we could make but little progress in the course of the night, went on shore, and returned at daylight. They came with the apparent determination to board us; but in their absence we had made ample preparations to meet in a hostile as well as a friendly manner. Seeing the impossibility of obtaining access to the ship by force, they changed their tactics, and were inclined to trade with us in a peaceable way. We therefore admitted one of the chiefs at the gangway, and through him commenced a brisk traffic, which continued until we had bought their whole stock of furs. They then left us to continue our course down the straits without molestation.

On the 5th of August we came to anchor in an extensive harbor, situated near the entrance of Chatham Straits, between Points Sullivan and Ellis. Here we were detained several days by calms and light westerly winds, which blew directly into the harbor, while the entrance was so narrow that we found it impossible to beat out. On the 10th we got under weigh, with the boats ahead to tow; but the ebb tide began to run very strong, and drift the ship towards a small island lying midway in the channel. Notwithstanding our utmost efforts to avoid it by the use of oars and letting go an anchor, in the darkness which had come on we had approached nearer the shore than we supposed, and finally the keel struck upon the rocks. The stream anchor was carried out with all possible despatch in order to heave the vessel off, but in vain. The falling tide had left her too fast. The only alternative left was to secure her in the best manner possible before she began to keel over, and to prepare ourselves for defence in case of an attack from the savages. Having furled all the sails, sent down the top-gallant yards and masts, and lashed our heavy guns amidship, we equipped our three boats with arms, ammunition, and provision, lest the ship should bilge, which we had great reason to apprehend, as we had still on board about two thirds of our cargo. But as the tide left her we found that she did not lie so much on her beam-ends as we had anticipated, but was supported by three sharp rocks, one about midships, and the other two abreast the fore and mizzen chains; her keel had also taken the rocks in several places.

At sunrise the Indians began to assemble about us. At first they kept aloof, and seemed to entertain some suspicions as to our movements; but after going round the ship and examining her situation very carefully, we prevailed upon some of them to come alongside. We gave them to understand that we had hauled on shore to mend the copper; and to convince them, I employed a gang of hands under the ship’s bottom for that purpose. At 9 A. M. we had low water, and as the perpendicular rise and fall of the tide was about fifteen feet, we could now walk all round the vessel, and under the keel in some places. In the mean time some of the officers were employed in trading with the Indians for their furs; and to make ourselves secure in case they had any hostile intentions, we succeeded in enticing one of the chiefs on board, whom we detained as a hostage. Thus relieved in a measure from any apprehension of an attack from the natives, and having done everything in our power to ease the ship, we lost no time in caulking and stopping in the best possible manner such places as had been strained open by her ponderous weight upon the rocks. The two seams below the plank-sheer were nearly an inch wide, as likewise every butt from the fore to the mizzen-mast. To clear the bilge of the ship we rigged one of our pumps in the main hatchway, and drew out a considerable quantity of molasses and water. After some brisk work, we had the satisfaction of finding that the vessel righted with the flowing tide, and at high water, to our great joy, she floated. When we hauled into the stream again, we were happy to find that she did not leak so badly as we had reason to anticipate. The only perceptible injury was on the side which laid on the rocks, and that was bent or hogged up, as the phrase is, about half a foot. We now liberated our hostage, after making him a very liberal present for his detention.

While we were aground, we had a favorable opportunity to examine the copper on the ship’s bottom, which proved to be in a very shattered condition; and as we had reason to apprehend more damage than was visible, I deemed it advisable to proceed at once to the Russian settlement at Norfolk Sound, where, under protection from the Indians, we might discharge our cargo, and make repairs in peace. Accordingly, on the 12th of August we put to sea, and made the best of our way for that place. On our route we fell in again with the Mary, and, in company with her, arrived on the 14th, and anchored abreast the village. I was again received by Governor Baranoff with that kind and obliging hospitality which made him loved and respected by every visitor.

No time was lost in preparing to lay the Juno on shore, in order to ascertain the extent of the damage. In this I was greatly facilitated by the Governor, who allowed me to occupy an old hulk, into which I shifted my cargo, with the exception of the furs. We had collected about a thousand sea-otter skins, and these I sent to Canton by the Mary, which sailed on the 20th. Notwithstanding our utmost exertions, our preparations were not completed until the 1st of September, and then, to my great surprise and regret, I found twenty of the floor timbers broken, and the copper in a very ragged condition. I was, however, gratified to find the planks all sound and good except in one place, where the carpenter cut out a large fragment of the rock, which had penetrated the bottom, and adhered so closely as to prevent the admission of water. By the 6th of September we had completed such repairs as were practicable and hauled into the stream, knowing no other alternative than to make the best of our crippled ship, and endeavor to prosecute the remainder of our voyage with more caution.

Having again adjusted the rigging, replenished our stores of wood and water, and put everything in the best possible trim for sea, I submitted to Governor Baranoff a project of an expedition to the southern coast of New Albion and California, which he readily accepted. My idea was to take on board fifty or sixty Kodiak Indians, with their canoes, for the purpose of catching sea-otter, those animals being very numerous on that coast. Everything in this new plan being agreed upon and settled, we were to wait until the 1st of October for the Indians, who were out on a hunting expedition, under the protection of two small vessels, and expected to return by the last of the month.

While we were waiting, the Russian brig Maria arrived at the settlement. She was under the command of Andrew W. Maschin, a lieutenant in the navy, and had on board as passenger Nicholas Resanoff, a nobleman, who, after an unsuccessful embassy to Japan, returned to Kamtchatka _en route_ to the posts on the Northwest Coast belonging to the Russian American Company, in which he was himself a large proprietor. With him came also two other lieutenants in the Russian navy, Nicholas Schwostoff and John Davidoff, Doctor Geo. Langsdorff, and two ship-carpenters, Messrs. Korükin and Popoff, who were to build a ship at this place. To all these new-comers I was formally introduced by my friend the Governor, and received the assurances of his Excellency, Baron von Resanoff, that he would facilitate, in every way in his power, the execution of my California scheme. Several days after this arrival were passed in festivity and mirth, and business was entirely suspended. The appearance of so distinguished a personage, whose authority was for a time to supersede even that of the Governor, was an event of great moment.

In conversation with Dr. Langsdorff on the inconvenience of building and equipping a large vessel where the necessary materials were so difficult to procure, I observed to him, jocosely, that I would sell them my ship, which would obviate the necessity of building. The conversation being communicated to his Excellency, he wished to know whether I would really sell my ship, and if so, what would be the price. This was a subject on which I had not reflected, and which required some deliberation on several accounts. Having about two thirds of my cargo on board, it was necessary to ascertain of what it consisted to estimate its value, being well aware that I could not dispose of my vessel by itself alone. How my officers and crew were to leave the coast was another serious difficulty. But while I was deliberating on the expediency of the measure, the two small vessels, the Yermerk and Russisloff, which I mentioned above, returned from the hunting expedition. The former, a craft of forty tons, appeared to be suitable for my purpose, and I therefore availed myself of the opportunity, and offered my ship, and the remainder of my cargo, for the sum of $68,000, payable in the following manner, viz.: bills of exchange on the Directors of the Russian American Company at St. Petersburg for the sum of $54,638; 572 sea-otter skins for the sum of $13,062; and $300 in cash; together with the fore-named vessel, the Yermerk, completely rigged, two suits of sails, four carriage guns, thirty muskets, with ammunition for the same, and provisions for my crew for one hundred days. This offer was accepted, and the Juno passed into the hands of the Russian American Company. On the 5th of October, I delivered her up, under a salute from the fort and the ship, when I hoisted the stars and stripes on the Yermerk, which had become my property.

Having consummated our bargain by delivering up our ship, and taking possession of our little craft, we set to work immediately to put her into a condition to transport ourselves and the sea-otter skins to Canton. This work was completed by the 15th; and while we were waiting for favorable weather to put to sea, his Excellency suggested to me the advisability of despatching the Yermerk for Canton, and remaining myself at the settlement until spring, and then embarking with himself and suite for Ochotsk, and proceeding to St. Petersburg by land. The kind and courteous manner in which this proposition was made to me was too flattering to be received with indifference. After duly considering the subject, having in view the probable advantage of presenting my bills of exchange in person the next winter, in accordance with the advice of my friends, I concluded to avail myself of his Excellency’s generous offer. I therefore gave the command of the Yermerk to my first officer, Mr. George W. Stetson, and the superintendence of the business to Mr. James Moorfield. Storms and adverse winds prevented them from sailing until the 27th, when, with a favorable breeze, they took their departure from Norfolk Sound, with our most fervent prayers for their welfare and safe arrival at Canton.

After taking a long parting look at the little vessel fading in the horizon, I returned to the village, full of melancholy forebodings of a tedious and dreary winter in that rude and inhospitable region. But it was of no use to repine; the business was settled, and I concluded I would take things as they came, and make the best of them. I had retained in my service, as valet, Edward D. Parker, one of my ordinary sailors, but a very useful man of all work. A barber by trade, he was also a tolerably good tailor, and performer on the violin and clarinet. This latter accomplishment I thought might be useful in dispelling the blues, if we should at any time be troubled with that complaint. An apartment was assigned me by the Governor, adjoining the room of Dr. Langsdorff, to which I removed my goods and chattels. I had a sleeping bunk fitted up in one corner, and made everything as comfortable as possible for a long siege. Having thus taken up my residence among the Russians, I will pause to make some explanations connected with my narrative.

III.

Nicholas Resanoff and the Japan Expedition.--The History of the
Russian Settlement at Norfolk Sound and the Founding of New
Archangel.--The Chinese Project.--Dr. Langsdorff and other New
Friends.--Visit to the Indians driven by the Russians from Archangel.

In September, 1803, an expedition sailed from Cronstadt, Russia, for the Pacific Ocean, consisting of the two ships Nadeschda and Neva, the former commanded by Capt. Krusenstern, and the latter by Capt. Lisiansky, both experienced officers of the Imperial navy. This was the first adventure the Russians ever attempted in the Southern Ocean, and was prompted by the extension of the trade of the Russian American Fur Company. It had the double purpose of supplying the settlements on the Northwest Coast, and negotiating a commercial treaty with Japan, which, being near the settlements, would be a convenient place to obtain provisions and dispose of commodities. Encouragement had been given by a letter received many years previous from the Japanese, granting permission to come to the port of Nangasaki; on the strength of this letter, and in view of the advantages and facilities for intercourse, it was thought expedient by the Imperial government to send an embassy to this strange people. Accordingly, Nicholas Resanoff, a nobleman and Chamberlain to his Majesty, the Emperor of all the Russias, was appointed, and embarked in the Nadeschda, with powers plenipotentiary to negotiate with the Court of Jedo. This part of the undertaking, as is well known, proved a failure. After remaining at Nangasaki six months, subject a part of the time to a partial imprisonment, and throughout to absurd formalities and ridiculous vexations, he despaired of bringing about a favorable result, and was compelled to depart for Kamtchatka, without even obtaining an interview with the Emperor, and, in fact, accomplishing nothing.

Baron von Resanoff was a person of rank and distinction, possessed of many amiable qualities, and highly esteemed by the Emperor Alexander. He was kind and affable to all around him, and always ready to hear complaints, and afford every redress in his power for grievances. He married the daughter of the famous Schelikoff, who was the pioneer in the Russian discoveries and settlements on the Northwest Coast. This circumstance caused him to be largely interested in the Fur Company. His mission to Japan having terminated unfavorably, his intention then was to visit and inspect all the stations of the Company on the coast. He left the Nadeschda therefore at Kamtchatka, and embarked on board the brig Maria. After touching at various Russian establishments, he finally arrived at Norfolk Sound. The Neva, Captain Lisiansky, pursued its course directly to the island of Kodiak, and thence to Norfolk Sound, where it arrived August 20, 1804, and joined, by previous agreement, a small squadron of three vessels under the command of Governor Baranoff.

The Russians had formerly a settlement on the Sound, situated several miles from their present location, called Archangel, which was destroyed by the Indians, and all the inhabitants massacred. The Indians then established themselves on the spot, and erected strong fortifications. The object of assembling the vessels was to chastise and expel them, and this was accomplished after a siege of four days. The Russians then selected an elevated and commanding situation in the immediate vicinity. It was a singular round piece of land with a flat top, standing out in the sea, and bearing the appearance of a work of human hands. The only connection with the shore was by a narrow isthmus. Here they put up several buildings, mounted a considerable battery of heavy guns, and gave the place the name of New Archangel.

The Neva then returned to Kodiak, where she wintered, and in the fall of 1805 proceeded to Canton and rejoined the Nadeschda, which had previously sailed thither. The aim in this movement was to accomplish a third project of the Russian American Company, which, like the Japan scheme, was unsuccessful. They desired to obtain permission from the Chinese government to continue their intercourse with the port of Canton, and so enable their ships to return by sea from the settlements to Russia, with the proceeds of their furs. But the Chinese objected, and insisted on their confining themselves to their inland traffic at the north. Thus commerce for the future with Canton was interdicted. I relate these events because they took place but a short time previous to my sojourn at Norfolk Sound, and account for the presence there of several persons of distinction.