Morning of Fire

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by Scott Ridley


  For the next two weeks intermittent storms chased them as they shifted back and forth along the coast. They cruised around the mouth of Juan de Fuca, along the coastline of what would become Washington State, and north again to Barkley Sound and Poverty Cove. They gathered furs, but did not extend their exploration into the strait any deeper than twenty miles. Gray’s interest was in the challenges of trading, not discovery. On April 22, after a voyage of five weeks, they left the mouth of the strait for Nootka to reprovision and load more trading goods. At Friendly Cove a surprise was waiting for them.

  William Douglas was at anchor in the Iphigenia. The Columbia was nowhere to be seen. Douglas had arrived three days earlier after wintering over at Hawaii. He told them that Kendrick had taken the Columbia six miles up the western shore to a cove known as Mawina. Gray borrowed a ship’s boat from Douglas and under thickening clouds and haze went to report to Kendrick. But when he reached Mawina he was stunned to see that Kendrick had not readied the Columbia for trading. Instead he had constructed an outpost.

  During his hunting expeditions, Kendrick was taking full stock of the inlets and coves in the sound. Mawina had a beautiful sandy beach and an island protecting it, and was less exposed than Yuquot. It offered fresh water from two streams and deep anchorage fifty feet from shore. Moreover, the cove was away from Maquinna’s direct oversight and from rival British ships. From here, small boats were free to trade through the whole sound. Although there was a village nearby, it may also have been easier to limit the men’s dealings with the Mowachaht. Kendrick had settled in and built a “Good house,” with a gun battery, a blacksmith forge, and outbuildings to store provisions on the island at the mouth of the cove—the first American-built structures on the Pacific coast. He named the island St. Clair and the outpost Fort Washington.

  ALTHOUGH KENDRICK HAD NOT SHARED his plan with Gray, the outpost was to be the expedition’s cornerstone for trade and a longer-term American presence. The sight of the rough-hewn log buildings and the flag flying over the island only intensified Gray’s and Haswell’s frustrations with Kendrick. The Columbia, Haswell observed, “was now mearly a Hulk.” She had not been hauled out to have her bottom graved and caulked. Her topmasts were still down. Kendrick had judged her to be too unwieldy for close sailing and trading along the shoal-ridden coast and bays, where currents and sudden winds off steep slopes could ground her. They would prepare for sea in good time, but her main function was to be a storehouse. Trade could proceed quite well at the outpost with her anchored here. The Washington, which had a shallower draft and much greater maneuverability, would be the primary trading vessel for coastal inlets and bays.

  Gray burned with suppressed rage as the Washington was brought up to Mawina from Friendly Cove and prepared for a second voyage. But he did not have long to stew, because the need for a quick departure soon became urgent.

  The schooner Northwest American, the Iphigenia’s sister ship, had followed Douglas into port on April 23. The two British ships found that Kendrick had already taken the winter’s furs and secured advance trading commitments from Nootka Sound villages. Douglas also realized that the Washington had gathered furs to the south and would soon head north, so he hurriedly sent the schooner northward to trade in the Queen Charlotte Islands. The Washington set off after her on May 2.

  After the sloop passed through the entrance to Nootka Sound on the tide, the wind shifted head-on from the northwest, and the crew spent the night beating back and forth without making much headway. The following day they were still making slow progress under winds from the northwest when, at four in the afternoon, a strange ship appeared inshore. She fired a gun to bring them around. Through his glass Gray could see that she was a warship, and she was running up the red and yellow colors of Spain.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Seizure

  Nootka

  MAY– JUNE 1789

  THE SPANISH SHIP TACKED into the wind and made for the Washington. She was a black tar–washed frigate of twenty-four guns, about the same size as the Columbia. Within a short time she came within speaking distance, her cannons trained on the sloop. Gray was apparently stunned. Contending with a Spanish warship was something he and Kendrick may have spoken of, but the reality threw him into confusion.

  A voice called across the short, heaving distance between the two ships, instructing the American captain to put down a boat and come on board. Either Gray did not understand the order or was purposefully evasive. He sent first mate Davis Coolidge and another officer.

  On board the Princesa, Estevan Martinez was taken off guard as well. He had started out from San Blas on January 17 on his mission to secure the Spanish Empire in the North Pacific. He expected to encounter four Russian frigates, not this small American sloop, although he was aware from the warnings received in Mexico that the Washington might be on the coast. Viceroy Flores had given Martinez broad latitude to use “powerful arguments” against the Americans. Trading in Spanish waters without a license from the king was just cause to seize the sloop and imprison her crew.

  When Coolidge arrived on the Princesa’s deck, he found fifteen soldiers fully armed. Also on board were four friars, and a crew of eighty-nine. Lashed to the quarterdeck was an Eskimo kayak. In the hold, Martinez was hauling supplies and armament for a garrison that would be the heart of Spain’s defense in the North Pacific. After rapidly endorsing Martinez’s plan in December, Viceroy Flores had sent it on to Madrid. Final approval from Foreign Minister Floridablanca was forthcoming; the official communication would take months. In the meantime, Martinez was to make his outpost appear like a permanent settlement. The Spanish captain was confident the plan would succeed. He had endured his years of humble service in the backwaters of the empire awaiting such a mission. Martinez envisioned ships exploring and making claims from San Lorenzo de Nuca into the Gulf of Alaska, and south to the California missions. Through careful exploration he was confident the Northwest Passage would be found and secured. He also believed that a private commercial company could be formed by Spanish merchants to monopolize the fur trade. And to the west, he proposed that an outpost be established in the Sandwich Islands, making them a valuable Spanish possession.

  It was a grand scheme, born of an earlier time in Spain’s glory, and hampered by San Blas’s meager resources. During the voyage, Martinez found that the port commissary had shortchanged him on supplies, and many of the men enlisted to fill out the crew were native Mexicans who suffered in the cold climate. A significant number of them had venereal disease, and two men, including his “leech,” or bloodletter, died on the passage from San Blas. When Martinez was told that a “dropsical” ship’s boy was covered in sores, he ordered his officers to “get rid of him” in open sea.

  As in his last voyage north, Lopez de Haro and the support ship San Carlos once again had difficulty keeping company with him and had become separated in a storm off the California coast nearly a month earlier. The Princesa was alone. Although the ship was well armed, Martinez had no support onshore. His plan was highly vulnerable at this point and he needed time. He had to find a way to stall these American interlopers until he could become established.

  BURLY AND OFFICIOUS IN HIS BLUE CAPTAIN’S COAT, Martinez informed the two young American officers through his translator, Gabriel del Castillo, that they were trespassing in Spanish waters and demanded to know their business. Standing on the deck of a foreign warship and ignorant of what was being said around them, the two young Americans were reluctant to reveal their mission. They showed him the Washington’s passport, which Martinez noted was signed by John Kendrick and General Washington. He asked for their instructions, and their reply was a weak half-truth: their water casks had been stolen and they were seeking materials to replace them. Martinez concealed his disbelief. He held the two men and sent his pilot and del Castillo on board the Washington to question Gray and examine the ship’s papers.

  Del Castillo demanded that Gray explain his presence in Spanish wat
ers, and also asked if they had come across any Russian or British vessels. Although no Russians had been sighted, Martinez learned from Coolidge that their command ship, the American brig Columbia, lay at anchor in Nootka Sound. Also moored there, Coolidge told him, was a British ship, the Iphigenia. The Iphigenia’s captain “was a Portuguese, the first mate a Scotchman, and the crew English” and she was engaged in collecting sea otter skins. Martinez made no comment on the Columbia, but mused that the British ship would make him a good prize.

  Though he knew Gray and his officers were lying about their mission, Martinez let their shoddy dissembling go. The American command ship was trapped, and there would be more time for him to decide what to do with the sloop. Martinez charmed the crew by sending aboard presents of brandy, wine, hams, and sugar. Gray responded by giving him an assortment of artifacts, including two precious red feather robes from Hawaii, and bows, arrows, and harpoons from Nootka. Haswell naively observed, “this gentleman endeavored to do everything to serve us.” Martinez’s generosity guaranteed that the Washington would remain unsuspecting and return soon. Parting with him, Gray fired a seven-gun salute, which the Princesa answered.

  The encounter made Martinez aware of how little he knew of what was transpiring at Nootka. While his orders focused on halting Russian colonization, he would soon find that the most immediate threat to Spanish dominion would come from the British ships of John Meares.

  DURING THE WINTER AT MACAO, Meares had formed a new business partnership, merging his ships, which were veiled under a Portuguese flag, with those of a competing group, the King George’s Sound Company. The new venture was called the “Company of Free Commerce of London,” and it gave Meares financial leverage, legitimacy, and a unified British presence. Meares’s new business partner, Richard Cadman Etches, was a well-connected London merchant whose ships had been among the first to arrive at Nootka and were captained by former officers of James Cook: Nathaniel Portlock, George Dixon, and James Colnett. Through Etches, the powerful group had ties to members of Parliament and possessed licenses to trade in the Pacific from the British East India Company and the South Sea Company. Etches was also said to be associated with the British secret service. The new company was ready to provoke a confrontation by aggressively proposing trade “in all the territories that are looked upon as belonging to the Crown of Spain” and by taking “possession of all new discovered parts for the King and Crown of Great Britain.” At Nootka, they sought to turn Meares’s previous camp into a permanent settlement for fur trading, and they authorized their ships to engage and capture any opposing vessels.

  Meares directed the venture from Macao. Two of his ships, the Princess Royal and the Argonaut, were already en route from Macao to spearhead the British settlement. The commander was a blunt and volatile British navy lieutenant, James Colnett, who had been a junior officer with Cook at Nootka in 1778 and had traded in the waters around Nootka for Etches for the last two seasons. On board the Argonaut with him were thirty British and Portuguese seamen and officers and twenty-nine Chinese tradesmen: carpenters, bricklayers, blacksmiths, shoemakers, and others who would form the core of the commercial outpost, which was to be called Fort Pitt after the British prime minister.

  THE ARGONAUT WAS STILL A MONTH AWAY as Martinez approached Nootka Sound early on the morning of May 5. In the harbor at Friendly Cove, shortly after sunrise, Douglas, who was ill in his cabin on the Iphigenia, received word of an unknown vessel. After wintering over in the Sandwich Islands, he was unaware of Meares’s ambitious new venture. Nonetheless, Douglas was expecting Meares’s ships. He was desperately in need of supplies, and assuming that this was the vessel carrying them, he sent a boat to pilot her into the harbor. At some point during the next two hours, Douglas realized that the ship was a Spanish war frigate. The Iphigenia’s crew went on alert. Before noon, the Princesa rounded the point and entered Friendly Cove, led by Douglas’s boat and a Spanish launch. The black-hulled ship dropped anchor in the lee of one of the islets, known as Hog Island. The deck was crowded with men, including soldiers at arms. Douglas’s crew and the Mowachaht people watched in astonishment as the Spaniards raised banners and a cross and held a religious ceremony on deck.

  Martinez wrote, “We sang the Salve to Our Lady of the Rosary, the patroness of this frigate for having conducted us prosperously to the port of our destination.” They followed with a fifteen-gun salute and three cheers for his Catholic Majesty King Carlos III. Douglas concealed the nationality of his ship by unfurling the Portuguese flag and responding with fifteen guns. Kendrick most likely heard the distant cannon fire and soon saw Callicum, who had been dispatched by Douglas, approaching Mawina in a canoe.

  Haswell later recorded: “On the morning of the [5th] of May they saw an Indion Canoe paddled by six naked natives coming towards them with grate haste. When she came alongside they found our Friend Calecum in her with a letter from Captain Douglas to Captain Kendrick …” Learning of the Spanish warship, Kendrick may have feared that the American expedition’s base at Nootka would need to be abandoned. It was one thing to anchor a vessel in these waters, and quite another to have a gun emplacement, a house and outbuildings, and a flag flying. On the way down to Friendly Cove, he must have pondered what plausible explanation he might offer.

  The Spanish ship was in a flurry of activity. Kendrick found Douglas and the Iphigenia’s nominal Portuguese captain, Francisco José Viana, at lunch on board the Princesa. Martinez generously made a place for Kendrick. As he had done with Robert Gray and the Washington, Martinez plied the captains with delicacies and hospitality. Through his translator, del Castillo, Martinez told them he was waiting for two other ships to catch up, and that he had encountered Kendrick’s Lady Washington less than a day to the north.

  The Spanish commander tested Kendrick on the purpose of his expedition. Uncertain about what Gray might have said, Kendrick told him another half-truth: the Columbia was on a voyage of discovery and had suffered extensive damage and put into Nootka for repairs. A fire on board had delayed them further. With many of his men suffering from scurvy, he had built a house onshore, and a blacksmith forge to repair his ship, and a gun emplacement to protect the crew through the winter. He confirmed that he had sent the Washington north in search of material for barrel hoops, and to look for the Straits of Admiral de Fonte. This comment caught Martinez’s attention, but he said nothing. Kendrick’s story seemed to be acceptable because he readily acknowledged Spanish dominion over the region and said he was prepared to leave as soon as the Columbia was fit for sea.

  Douglas told Martinez a similar story—that the Iphigenia, leaking badly and in need of pitch and tar, had taken refuge at Friendly Cove. Martinez generously offered help to repair the ship. He never mentioned that Gray had told him the Iphigenia was trading for furs but did ask Douglas and Viana to let him see their ship’s papers. The documents were in Portuguese, and Martinez held them for translation.

  Among those at the table, Martinez may have recognized Kendrick as a kindred spirit. They were nearly the same age, and in a time of dandified ship’s officers they had a casual style and a shared dislike of the English. Moreover, Martinez saw this seasoned American captain as a potentially useful ally. Kendrick had gained a great deal of knowledge of the native people and spoke some of their language, which offered an entry to the Mowachaht world.

  After lunch, Martinez accompanied Kendrick and Douglas to Maquinna’s longhouse. As they climbed the embankment onshore, the squad of armed Spanish soldiers that accompanied them provoked strong objections from Maquinna’s men who stood naked in full red and black body paint. After a brief conference, Martinez sent the soldiers back to the ship. Maquinna’s men, presenting a fierce spectacle at the doorway, stepped aside. Inside, slats of daylight fell on the dirt corridor that led between family cubicles along each wall. Kendrick was familiar with this place and the people living here. At the far end, Maquinna, his brother the warrior Quatlazape, and Callicum sat on their raised platform
in the smoky light. Their heads were covered in oil and fine white bird down, from which their black eyes peered at the Spanish commander. After food and dancing and song, there was an exchange of gifts. Maquinna presented Martinez with a beautiful sea otter skin, and Martinez gave him woolen and flannel cloth, glass beads, and a pair of scissors. Their discussion was laboriously translated from Spanish to English to Mowachaht and back again. Martinez and Maquinna recalled the time he had come to this port in 1774 with the expedition led by Juan Perez. Maquinna was just a teenager at the time, but he remembered that Martinez had tossed abalone shells down to the canoe and hit his brother. He still kept the shells in the house as prized possessions and brought them out. Martinez also mentioned silver spoons that had been taken from him, and later found by James Cook. Maquinna recalled these as well, saying that the man who had stolen them was now dead.

  The meeting established warm relations, and the Mowachaht eagerly paddled out to the Princesa the next morning at 6 a.m., calling for Martinez, who gave them small gifts. Kendrick was pleased with how things had begun with the Spanish commander, and saw an opportunity to ingratiate himself and encourage mutual benefit. Before returning to Mawina, he invited Martinez, Douglas, and the Portuguese captain, José Viana, to come dine with him at his outpost.

  Kendrick spared no effort to impress Martinez. During the course of the meal, he offered three toasts to the Spanish monarch, each followed by a thirteen-gun salute. Kendrick presented his ship’s letter from Congress, which Martinez believed was signed by George Washington. He also gave Martinez a letter documenting what he had already told him—"In answer to your request how I came to be riding at anchor in Nootka Sound belonging to the King of Spain …”—where he repeated the conditions that made him settle in the area for the winter and finally assured him, “now as you may Observe we are getting our Ship in readiness for Sea …” Kendrick offered use of his forge and the cove for Martinez to build a schooner. He sold him canvas for sails, and deck fixtures, nails, and caulking. He also loaned Martinez his blacksmith, Jonathan Barber, who was set to the ominous task of making leg shackles.

 

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