222 years ago, on March 22, 1803, a teenaged sailor named John R Jewitt from Boston, Lincolnshire was onboard the ship Boston from Boston, Massachusetts when it was captured in Nootka Sound on the west coast of today’s Vancouver Island in Canada by a powerful king of the Nuu-Chah-Nulth people. For almost three years, Jewitt and one other survivor from the Boston were enslaved by the king Maquinna, during which time Jewitt kept a journal that has become an important ethnographic study of indigenous life on the northwest coast of North America. Besides life among the Nuu-Chah-Nulth, this incident helps reveal the importance of Boston’s maritime economy in the years between independence and the war of 1812. It also joins our episodes on the ship Columbia and the Park Street missionaries to Hawaii in illustrating how Boston merchants and whalers had an outsized influence on the culture of the west coast, even before America laid claim to the region. How did John Jewitt ingratiate himself to his captors well enough to survive his ordeal, and how did he manage to concoct an escape long after it seemed that all hope was lost? Listen now!
The Ship Boston from Boston and the Sailor from the Other Boston
- A Journal Kept at Nootka Sound (Jewitt’s original journal, with no co-author)
- The adventures and sufferings of John R. Jewitt, only survior of the ship Boston, during a captivity of nearly three years among the savages of Nootka Sound. With an account of the manners, mode of living, and religious opinions of the natives (The expanded narrative written with Alsop)
- 1896 reprint of the Narrative with an introduction and additional research by Robert Brown
- Howay, F. W. “An Early Account of the Loss of the Boston in 1803.” The Washington Historical Quarterly, vol. 17, no. 4, 1926
- Oakley, Eric Odell, Ph.D. “Columbia at Sea: America Enters the Pacific, 1787-
1793″ (2017) - Review of Jewitt’s narrative, WILLIS, ELIZABETH. Western American Literature, vol. 23, no. 3, 1988
- Monks, Gregory G., et al. “Nuu-Chah-Nulth Whaling: Archaeological Insights into Antiquity, Species Preferences, and Cultural Importance.” Arctic Anthropology, vol. 38, no. 1, 2001
- Harkin, Michael. “Whales, Chiefs, and Giants: An Exploration into Nuu-Chah-Nulth Political Thought.” Ethnology, vol. 37, no. 4, 1998
- John R Jewitt in the Canadian Dictionary of Biography
- Newspapers (paywalled)
- The Charleston (SC) Daily Courier, Thu, May 10, 1804: Jewitt’s capture (reprinted from the Boston Gazette)
- The (Wilkes-Barre PA) Gleaner, Fri, Jun 19, 1807: Samuel Hill’s letter
- (Annapolis) Maryland Gazette, Thu, Apr 17, 1806: Two survivors from the Boston
- The (Greenfield MA) Recorder, Tue, Aug 22, 1815: Ad for John Jewitt’s narrative
- The (NY) Evening Post, Fri, Jan 12, 1821: Obituary of John Jewitt
- Map and Street View of “Friendly Cove” at Nootka Sound
- 1888 map of Vancouver Island with Friendly Cove and Maquinna Point marked at Nootka
Automatic Shownotes
Chapters
0:14 | Introduction to the Boston Story |
4:35 | Jewett’s Captivity Begins |
9:50 | The Attack on the Boston |
42:13 | Life as a Slave among the Nuu-Chah-Nulth |
48:58 | A Hopeful Rescue |
53:42 | Jewett’s Return to Boston |
58:58 | The Legacy of John Jewett |
Transcript
Jake:
Welcome to Hub History, where we go far beyond the freedom trail to share our favorite stories from the history of Boston, the Hub of the Universe.
Introduction to the Boston Story
Jake:
This is episode 323, the ship Boston from Boston and the sailor from the other Boston. Hi, I’m Jake. This week, I’m talking about the trials and tribulations of John R. Jewett. 222 years ago, on March 22, 1803, a teenage sailor named John Jewett from Boston, Lincolnshire, was aboard the ship Boston, from Boston, Massachusetts, when it was captured in the Nootka Sound on the west coast of today’s Vancouver Island in Canada by a powerful king of the Nuu-Chah-Nulth people. For almost three years, Jewett and one other survivor from the Boston were enslaved by the King Maquinna, during which time Jewett kept a journal that’s become an important ethnographic study of indigenous life on the northwest coast of North America.
Jake:
Besides life among the Nuu-Chah-Nulth, this incident helps reveal the importance of Boston’s maritime economy and the years between independence, when Boston was no longer subject to the British mercantile system and the War of 1812, when our freedom of the seas was curtailed. It also joins our episodes on the ship Columbia and the Park Street missionaries to Hawaii in illustrating how Boston merchants and whalers had an outsized influence on the culture of the West Coast, even before America laid claim to the region.
Jake:
How did John Jewett ingratiate himself to his captures well enough to survive his ordeal? And how did he manage to concoct an escape long after it seemed like all hope was lost? We’ll soon find out. But before we talk about the ship Boston from Boston, and the sailor from that other Boston, I just want to pause and thank the sponsors who quite literally make it possible for me to make this show. By committing to supporting Hub History with $2, $5, or in a few cases, $20 or more each month. By committing to supporting the show with $2, $5, or in a few cases, $20 or more each month, this core group of listener supporters takes care of the cost of making this podcast. And there are certainly costs. Podcasting is very attractive because it’s a cheaper medium to break into than many. I don’t need a fancy camera or an expensive video editing deck. I don’t need a publisher’s printing press or the broadcast tower from a radio or TV station.
Jake:
All I really needed when we first started the show back in October 2016 was a cheap USB microphone and a pair of headphones that I already had lying around the house. However, the total tab adds up over time. After we recorded that first episode, I had to find a place to put it, which means paying for podcast media hosting. Not everybody who starts a podcast wants to create a website for it, but for me it was important to have an easy place to point the listener where they could see sources, historic maps, photos, documents, things like that that supported each show. That meant buying a domain name and figuring out a web host. After that website had been up and online for a couple of years, we got hit by a hacker who managed to inject malicious code into the site, and that meant paying for enhanced security from our web host.
Jake:
Eventually, I wised up and realized that people who are deaf or hearing impaired might want to enjoy the show too, so at that point I started adding automated transcription to each episode. And of course, over time, the quality of the research that goes into each episode has increased, and that means paying for access to research databases that we didn’t use at first. Interviewing guests means that I have to pay for a decent multitrack video conferencing service, and those costs do eventually add up. That’s why I’m so grateful to the sponsors who are willing to pay for a free podcast. To everybody who’s already supporting the show, thank you. If you’re not yet supporting the show and you’d like to start, it’s easy. Just go to patreon.com slash hubhistory or visit hubhistory.com and click on the Support Us link. And thanks again to all our new and returning sponsors.
Jewett’s Captivity Begins
Jake:
Now it’s time for this week’s main topic.
Jake:
In the first week of May of 1805, newspapers in Boston carried a most unwelcome update. This version was published in the Boston Gazette and reprinted in papers up and down the East Coast, but the other Boston newspapers had the story around the same time also. The Gazette story notes, It is with regret we are called upon to state, on the authority of a letter received in this town on Saturday last from Canton, that the ship Boston, Captain John Salter, of this port, has been taken on the northwest coast by the natives of Nootka Sound.
Jake:
While this was breaking news in Boston, it wasn’t exactly hot off the presses by our standards. In an era before 5G, smartphones, or even the telegraph, it took over two years for news of the ship Boston’s capture to reach the city of Boston. In a 1926 article about the incident for the Washington Historical Quarterly, F. W. Ho Wei describes how the news got back to Boston. This information, doubtless, was carried from the northwest coast to Canton, meaning China, perhaps the Pearl River or the Guangzhou Province area, in the fall of 1803 by one of the trading vessels, and thence reached Boston. The ships usually left China in December or January, and the voyage home ordinarily occupied about four months.
Jake:
The version of this story that’s captured in the journal of John R. Jewett, the armorer on the Boston, was much more detailed and immediate, but it couldn’t be published until 1807. He conveys that the ship Boston arrived in Nootka Sound, a large, sheltered harbor on the seaward side of Vancouver Island, about 200 miles northwest of today’s Seattle, on March 12th, 1803. You can find this area by searching for Uquot, or Nootka Lighthouse, on Google Maps. There’s even street view of the lighthouse that was taken from a fishing vessel. It’s a rugged, rocky coast with unbroken forests of giant evergreens reaching almost down to the waterline. Fans of the TV survival show alone will remember that the first few seasons were filmed on Vancouver Island, but Nootka Sound and Newquat, or Friendly Cove as it was known in the early 19th century, is on an even more wild and remote part of the coast. The Boston anchored about five miles from a large village of the Nuu-Chah-Nulth or Nutka people that had a reputation as a prosperous center for the trade in valuable sea otter pelts. Captain Salter announced that the ship was open for business when he started making some minor trades with commoners while courting the business of the tribal elite.
Jake:
On the 15th, the most important among these elites, a king named Maquinna, came on board the Boston to have dinner with the captain and allowed himself to be wooed a bit. Along with his journal that was published in 1807, John Jewett would later publish an expanded version of his adventures in 1815, which I’ll refer to as his narrative. In the narrative of John Jewett, he gives a description of the King Maquinna, saying that he was a man of dignified aspect, about six feet in height, and extremely straight and well-proportioned. His features were in general good, and his face was rendered remarkable by a large Roman nose, a very uncommon form of feature among these people. His complexion was of a dark copper hue, though his face, legs, and arms were, on this occasion, so covered with red paint that their natural color could scarcely be perceived. His eyebrows were painted black in two broad stripes like a new moon. His long black hair, which shone with oil, was fastened in a bunch on the top of his head, and strewed or powdered all over with white down, which gave him a most curious and extraordinary appearance. He was dressed in a large mantle or cloak of the black sea otter skin, which reached to his knees and was fastened around his middle by a broad belt of the cloth of the country. Wrought or painted with figures of several colors.
Jake:
This dress was by no means unbecoming, but on the contrary, had an air of savage magnificence.
Jake:
Sea otter skins were extremely valuable due to their high demand in China at that time, so Maquinna’s cloak was a symbol of the richness of his nation, making him a potentially very valuable trading partner. The exchange of gifts was an important step in the dance of diplomacy, so Captain Salter gave the king a double-barreled fouling gun. But the king brought it back four days later, pointing out that the action was broken. Instead of wooing Maquinna with continued diplomacy, the captain blew up, shook the gun in the king’s face, called him a liar, and threw the gun down. This turned out to be a very costly insult.
The Attack on the Boston
Jake:
On the 22nd of March in 1803, King Maquinna came back on board the Boston. After dinner, he told the captain that the salmon were running particularly well, so about ten of the crew headed out in a small boat to catch fish that could be salted for the next phase of their journey. Another small group was on shore doing laundry in the fresh water of a stream, and Jewett noted that he was in the steerage compartment cleaning and repairing the ship’s muskets. About an hour after that first boat left on its salmon fishing trip, the captain ordered another small boat to be hoisted up out of the water. As the sailors worked the pulleys that lifted the boat, Maquinna gave an order, and Jewett’s diary records, When they had got the boat halfway up, the natives seized every man at his tackle fall, and likewise the captain, threw him over the quarter deck, and killed every man with his own knife taken out of his pocket and cut off their heads and threw their bodies overboard.
Jake:
Hearing a noise on deck, I went and got my musket, and ascending the stairs was caught by the hair of the head by three of the natives. One of them struck at me with an axe and cut my forehead, but having short hair, their hands slipped and I fell down the steerage. The chief, observing it was me, told them all not to hurt me, for that I was an armorer and would be of great service to him. He ordered his people to shut over the hatch. I lay in a most deplorable state, being very weak in consequence of the loss of blood from the cut I received. After they had taken the ship, they sent canoes off to murder the men that were in the boat, which they soon did and brought their heads, which amounted to twenty-five, on board, and placed them in a right line on the quarterdeck.
Jake:
Jewett’s skull was fractured from the axe blow that he had received, and he lay unconscious in the steerage compartment for some hours, until he was able to summon the strength to climb up on deck. One of his eyes was swollen shut from the injury, and the other was full of blood. But Maquinna called for some water so that Jewett could wash the blood away. When he could see, he realized that he was surrounded by six of Maquinna’s warriors with drawn daggers. At that moment, Maquinna stepped forward and spoke to him in English, saying, John, I speak. You no say no. You say no. Daggers come. In the later, expanded version of his narrative, Jewett continues, He then asked me if I would be his slave during my life, if I would fight for him in his battles, if I would repair his muskets and make daggers and knives for him, with several other questions, to all of which I was careful to answer yes. He then told me that he would spare my life and ordered me to kiss his hands and feet to show my submission to him, which I did.
Jake:
Maquinna then ordered Jewett to make the ship ready to sail and run it aground on the beach in front of the village. With the assistance of some of the Nuu-Chah-Nulth and a favorable wind, Jewett was able to follow this order, and the ship was beached by 8 p.m. On that first evening of Jewett’s captivity. That night, as some of Maquinna’s warriors were searching the ship, they found one more crew member alive. He turned out to be the sailmaker, whose name was John Thompson. When Maquinna learned that Thompson had survived, he put the man’s fate up to a vote among his warriors. They unanimously voted to kill Thompson at first light, but John Jewett threw himself in the king’s mercy and threw his body at the king’s feet, claiming that Thompson was his father and begging Maquinna to spare his life. Instead of killing either man, Maquinna put him to work and forced him to strip the ship of anything valuable or useful. During which effort, Jewett managed to save the ship’s papers, logbook, and account books, including the blank account book that he wrote a journal in during his captivity.
Jake:
The attack was more than it seemed, however. It wasn’t a simple robbery, or even revenge for the slight that Captain Salter had committed against the king. Maquinna wanted the ship. He and a rival king to the south, named Wiccan Inish, had been trading with the Europeans and Americans for nearly three decades by this time. The Spanish had visited Nutka in 1774, then the British, under Captain Cook, visited in 1778. and they established a base for trade on the Sound in 1786.
Jake:
By that time, Russian merchants were trading a Nootka from their colony in Alaska, and the Spanish claimed exclusive rights to the West Coast, extending from their base of power in Mexico and their outposts in Northern California. By the time the first American ship, the Columbia, arrived in the Northwest in 1788, there was a full-blown international crisis underway, as the Spanish, British, and Nuchanil vied for control over the region. The Americans built a small fort, traded with Maquinna’s people, and generally stayed out of the fray while Britain and Spain almost went to war. You can hear more about Boston’s role in the Nootka crisis that gave Britain control of the Oregon country in episode 233. This long experience trading and negotiating with great European powers given Maquinna and his rival leaders a desire for power that would put them on equal footing with the English and Spanish, while also growing their wealth and letting a few key chiefs consolidate power. In a 2017 dissertation, Eric Oakley describes how this desire to compete with their colonizers made the Nuchanulf turn to seizing the Boston.
Jake:
Rivalries between paramount chiefs, such as Wiccaninish and Maquinna, prompted them to imagine a world of indigenous sea power. If canoes symbolized wealth and a successful whale hunt legitimized a chief, then possession of a western vessel represented the ultimate expression of chi, the supernatural force that provided each chief with its temporal power. Indians made keen observation of Columbia, Washington, and other vessels originating in Europe or America. Ships conferred a spiritual potency upon their commanders, not least because of the prominence of metal in their hulls, armaments, and navigational instruments. Furthermore, their size implied physical strength of the sort belonging to large mythological creatures such as giants and thunderbirds.
Jake:
In 1793, Wick and Ninnish attempted to purchase the schooner Resolution from Captain Josiah Roberts, but the Bostonian refused. Later, Maquinna decided to take what Wick and Ninnish had been unable to buy. After seizing control of the ship, Maquinna’s group took all the muskets, cannons, and gunpowder off of the Boston, along with its cargo of trade goods and the clothing and other personal items that had belonged to the crew. Any hope he had of training his warriors to be sailors and putting the Boston back to sea as an indigenous navy were dashed after only a week, however. On the night of March 29th, one of the Nuchanoth had gone on board with a torch to see if there was anything left to loot, and he accidentally set the ship on fire, which resulted in a total loss.
Jake:
Somewhere in Massachusetts, a maritime insurance company would have wept. In his narrative, John Jewett recalled the history of the ship Boston. In the summer of 1802, during the peace between England and France, the ship Boston, belonging to Boston in Massachusetts, and commanded by Captain John Salter, arrived at Hull, whither she came to take on board a cargo of such goods as were wanted for the trade with the Indians on the northwest coast of America. From whence, after having taken in a lading of furs and skins, she was to proceed to China, and from thence, home to America.
Jake:
F. W. Hohe’s 1926 article notes, Of the crew of 27, ten were from the United States. The remainder were principally English, with a smattering of other races. This diverse crew was preparing to take on a challenging voyage. By the turn of the 19th century, the most ambitious captains wanted to be part of the China trade, and these American captains were learning to follow the pattern set forth by the Columbia in the 1780s. Trade goods were loaded in their home ports on the U.S. East Coast. Then the ships would sail for Cape Horn and the Straits of Magellan, at the southern tip of South America. Depending on the prevailing winds and the richness of their cargoes, some would stop off in Europe or on the west coast of Africa before heading to the Cape. After rounding the horn, they’d head to the northwest, trading manufactured goods for sea otter pelts along the coast of northern California, Oregon, and far up the coast of British Columbia.
Jake:
Early Spanish and English merchants could get away with offering beads, combs, mirrors, and other cheaply made goods in exchange for otter skins. But those days had passed long before the voyage of the Boston. In his dissertation, Eric Oakley explains how Maquinna and his rivals around New Cassano came to demand cold hard cash in exchange for their skins.
Jake:
In 1790, following the return of Columbia to Boston, Captain Robert Gray advised Joseph Barrow to make copper the centerpiece of a second expedition. The decision had larger implications than merely setting Columbia on a course for financial success. Copper consolidated a trade network that connected the northwest coast to Boston, and Boston to the copper mines of southwest England. The copper served, of course, to purchase otter skins, and in this respect it was a stunning success. More importantly, though, furs tell a reciprocal story, in which the northwest coast became intensively connected to the ancient markets of Canton and China. Together, copper and fur became the engines of change for chiefs such as Maquinna and Wiccaninish, who utilized their status as middlemen to become the principal power brokers on Vancouver Island. Moreover, their new wealth, distributed to followers through the institution of the Potlatch, triggered local adaptations that improved, undermined, and otherwise changed traditional ways of life. Copper was a commodity with universal value, so the ship Boston was carrying precious metal that cost more, and thus was insured for much more, than other European and American trade goods that were brought on board.
Jake:
Jewett’s narrative catalogs the remaining cargo as English cloth, Dutch blankets, looking glasses, beads, knives, razors, some sugar and molasses, rum, a great quantity of ammunition, cutlasses, pistols, and 3,000 muskets and fouling pieces, or shotguns.
Jake:
Assuming a successful trade could be made on the northwest coast, the ships would turn west, sailing to the Kingdom of Hawaii to trade for logwood or provisions for the Pacific crossing, then on to southern China, where otter skins could be exchanged for tea and porcelain. And finally, they’d complete their circumnavigation, coming back to the U.S. East coast to sell the goods that had been purchased in China. Now, the ship Boston may have been from Boston, Massachusetts, but our protagonist, John R. Jewett, was not. Jewett opens his narrative with this autobiographical note. I was born in Boston, a considerable borough town in Lincolnshire in Great Britain, on the 21st of May, 1783. My father, Edward Jewett, was by trade a blacksmith, and esteemed among the first in his line of business in that place.
Jake:
I’ll note here that their last name is spelled with an I-T-T, which doesn’t seem to be as common as Jewett with an E-T-T. When he was three years old, young John’s mother died in childbirth, leaving John, a younger sister, and a half-brother from his father’s previous marriage. Edward the blacksmith valued education and sent John to an academy to learn Latin, higher mathematics, navigation, and surveying, but John begged to follow in his father’s footsteps, so he apprenticed at his father’s forge. After the family moved to Kingston-upon-Hull in Yorkshire, John got a lot of business from sailors, and he started to obsess over the idea of going to sea himself.
Jake:
In the summer of 1802, John Salter and the ship Boston came into Hull for repairs. Edward Jewett was hired to craft the fittings that would be needed, and the captain ended up spending many evenings at the Jewett house, regaling the 19-year-old John with tales of his adventures on the high seas and stories about the prosperous town of Boston, Massachusetts, where an enterprising young man could certainly make a better start in life than he could in Kingston-upon-Hull.
Jake:
With Edward’s permission, John signed on as the ship’s armorer, a master smith who could repair the Boston’s muskets and cannons, as well as making iron hatchets and knives for trade, as was needed. He agreed to be paid $30 a month, which would be payable as a share of the otter skins they purchased on the coast, giving him the attractive possibility of making more when the skins were sold in China. They also agreed that at the end of this voyage, Captain Salter would use his influence to help Jewett establish himself as a smith in Boston. Boston, Massachusetts, that is. With this agreement, the younger Jewett was on the Boston when it left England on September 3, 1802. It took them 29 days to reach the coast of Brazil, during which time Jewett got over his initial seasickness, marveled at the open ocean, and worked at his forge, helping the common sailors from time to time when they needed an extra set of hands to heave a rope.
Jake:
In Brazil, they purchased firewood, fresh water, and enough food to allow them to sail straight to the Oregon country instead of stopping off in Hawaii first. It took 36 days to round Cape Horn in the face of ferocious winds and opposing seas, but they finally made it on Christmas Day. From there, they proceeded without stopping to Nootka Sound on Vancouver Island, which was their goal for the fur trade. They dropped anchor at Friendly Cove, just feet from today’s Nootka Lighthouse on March 12, 1803. Ten days later, John Jewett was staring at the decapitated heads of his crewmates and kissing Maquinna’s feet in submission. The attack must have left John Jewett wondering who his captors really were. Maquinna was the king of the Moachat Nation, which was one of 15 nations making up the new Chonalth Cultural Group that stretched up and down the west coast of Vancouver Island. The Moachat were the first nation along the northwest coast that came into contact with Europeans. First the Spanish, and then Captain Cook and the British. They leveraged their excellent deepwater anchorage and the relationships they fostered into a dominant trading position. Maquinna might not have been king yet at the time of that first contact, but his star rose as trade with the English grew.
Jake:
In a 1998 article on the politics of the New Chonalth published in the journal Ethnography, Michael Harkin describes this period of early contact along the northwest coast. New Chonalth culture reached a pinnacle of development in the early fur trade period. Observers recorded an elaborate material culture, a large slave class, and powerful chiefs. During this period, chiefs such as Wiccaninish of the Clioquat and Makenna of the Moachat gained in wealth and power. They frequently launched attacks on European vessels and persons, and were in a position to dominate the fur trade. Alliances arose during this period, the result of the concentration of power in a few chiefs who dominated the fur trade, and the loss of population in certain local groups. After 1795, when the Spanish withdrew from Vancouver Island, the British and Americans came to dominate the fur trade.
Jake:
Over the course of the first century after European contact, the total population of the Nuchanulf fell by almost 90%. Before smallpox and other epidemics decimated their numbers, each nation lived in large, fortified villages of longhouses, mostly along the coast. Entire villages would pick up and move a few times a year. From their main village, to better salmon fishing grounds in the fall, to coves with plentiful herring in the winter, and back to the main village in the spring. In the same article, Harkin describes the seasonal patterns of life among the new Chonulf. Seals were highly valued. Salmon, as elsewhere on the coast, were extremely important, and when dried, provided the mainstay of winter substance. Groups were transhuman, moving to outer islands and beaches in the spring, and sheltered inlets in the fall. The spectacular wealth of maritime and sylvan resources was exploited with the help of a significant slave class. The society of the free was divided into two groups. Chiefs, Queel, including village chiefs and their close Patrican, and commoners, Meshem. Chiefs were the owners of all resources, including beached whales and other salvage that came within territorial waters.
Jake:
Territories were bounded with markers, and boundaries were defended. Commoners’ exploitation of resources such as salmon streams was always at the chief’s pleasure.
Jake:
The total population at the time of Maquinna’s rule isn’t clear, but as one of the two most prominent kings of the Nuchanulf, he commanded about 300 or 400 warriors. Early in Maquinna’s reign, an English captain ordered a massacre among the Nuchanulf, which contributed to the decline in peaceful relations between European traders and indigenous groups in the vicinity of Nootka Sound. The massacre was reported to be 20 or 25 years before the attack on the Boston, which coincides with the time when the tribes started demanding precious metals and firearms in trade, instead of the cheap trinkets that early ships had carried. It also coincides with the sudden militarization of the nations led by Maquinna and Wiccaninish, as Eric Oakley described in his dissertation on American exploration of the northwest coast.
Jake:
Wiccaninish established a terrifying reputation as a modernizing warlord, one whose investment in firearms enabled him to resist foreign encroachment. Muskets represented a clear improvement over traditional arms, such as stone and whalebone clubs. Moreover, their range and destructive force exceeded that of the bow and arrow. Concentrated in villages along the coast, firearms enabled Wick and Inish to guard against foreign encroachment upon the inlets, rivers, and coves of Clioquat Sound. Tactics enhanced its defense of strategic points. Fur traders soon reported that Wiccaninish should have mastered the musket volley, a development that made his warriors every bit as dangerous as Europeans. Armed and emboldened, the chief became more demanding and aggressive toward outsiders. In 1795, Wiccaninish participated in the last peaceful trade to be documented at Clioquat Sound, with Englishman Charles Bishop. Meanwhile, Maquinna amassed a similar arsenal, and his armed resistance became a significant factor in the Spanish withdrawal from Nootka Sound, also in 1795.
Jake:
The significant slave class among the Neuchonalth that Harkin described went far beyond captured Americans and Europeans. When John Jewett agreed to become Maquinna’s slave to save his life, he was sent to live in Maquinna’s own longhouse. Along with the king’s extended family, this household included about 50 Neuchonalth who had been enslaved during Maquinna’s battles with the other nations in the region. They were obviously there against their wills, but their physical safety was actually much more secure than Jewett’s. Because so many of Maquinna’s followers had voted to kill Jewett in retaliation for past offenses by the crews of other ships, Jewett had to go to sleep each night, surrounded by Maquinna’s children, to try to protect himself from assassins in the night. Within days of the attack on the ship Boston, two more ships from Boston came into Nootka Sound, trying to investigate rumors that a ship was on shore there. They were the Mary and the Juno. With the wreck of the Boston still smoldering on the beach, though, it was immediately clear that something was wrong. Maquinna’s warriors fired on the ships from the shore with some of their captured muskets, and one of the ships returned fire with grape shot from its cannons. The two sides were too far apart to do any damage, but it was enough to warn the two ships from Boston away.
Jake:
Soon canoes arrived, carrying several hundred members of at least 20 villages that were tributaries of Maquinna and led by lesser chiefs. Maquinna put on a show, dressing his warriors in the clothing captured from the Boston and having them fire volleys from their captured muskets. After a grand ceremonial feast or potlatch, the king sent these vassals home with lavish gifts of guns, gunpowder, and cloth. Soon, Jewett, Thompson, and the other slaves in Maquinna’s household were put to work cutting firewood and hauling water for the village. On June 1st, Jewett noted in his journal that he and his fellow slaves were busy cutting firewood while Maquinna was out whaling, though the king returned empty-handed. A 2001 article in the journal Arctic Anthropology explains the importance of whaling in Maquinna’s culture, and the role of chiefs like him in particular. The long-standing importance of whales and whaling in Nuu-Chah-Nulth culture seems clear. Even if whaling met only with occasional success, the dietary impact of just a few animals would be significant.
Jake:
Trade in whale products between Nuu-Chah-Nulth communities also appears to have been common, fostering intergroup alliances and resource distribution. Whaling may have been the key adaptation that allowed intensive occupation of the outer coast, enabling the initial movements of the various Nuu-Chah-Nulth, Dididat, and Maka groups into their historic homelands. The evidence indicates that whaling has played a significant role in the development of Nuu-Chah-Nulth culture over at least the past 3,000 to 4,000 years.
Jake:
In Jewett’s narrative, he describes the harpoons that Maquinna and his men would use when pursuing a whale. The barbs are formed of bone, which are sharpened on the outer side and hollowed within, for the purpose of forming a socket for the staff. These are then secured firmly together with a whale sinew, the point being fitted so as to receive a piece of muscle shell, which is ground to a very sharp edge and secured in its place by means of turpentine. To this head or prong is fastened a strong line of whale sinew about nine feet in length, to the end of which is tied a bark rope from 50 to 60 fathoms long, having from 20 to 30 sealskin floats or buoys attached to it at certain intervals, in order to check the motion of the whale and obstruct his diving. That kind of reminds me of the yellow barrels that Quint used on the shark in Jaws. Jewett continues, In the socket of the harpoon, a staffer pole of about 10 feet long, gradually tapering from the middle to each end, is placed. This the harpooner holds in his hand in order to strike the whale, and immediately detaches it as soon as the fish is struck.
Jake:
Jewett’s diary details the many times Maquinna-led whaling expeditions out of the harbor that returned with no whale. Often, a failure of the harpoon was to blame. Jewett describes ropes breaking, a harpoon shaft breaking, a harpooned whale escaping when the bone barbs failed, and the sharpened muscle shell point on the harpoon breaking and keeping the weapon from piercing the whale’s skin.
Jake:
When whaling was unsuccessful, the prisoners and their enslavers would eat preserved whale blubber, boiled salmon, porpoise steaks, dried clams, herringspawn, or wild blackberries. When times got really tough, the slaves in Maquinna’s household were sent out to beg for food door-to-door in the village. Michael Harkin’s article on Neuchanalth politics suggests that Maquinna might have blamed any failures on his shortcomings as a king. Wailing ritual was one of the most important powers held by a chief. It was carried out in special shrines in the woods or in caves. It required a state of ritual purity, achieved through bathing, sexual abstinence, and morally pure thoughts. The outcome of this ritual determined the success or failure of the whaling expedition. Failure often meant the death of all hands. Success provided the meat and blubber with which to give a large feast for the mashem, or commoners, of one’s own and other villages, thus consolidating and augmenting chiefly power.
Jake:
Above all, whaling success was a sign of chiefly legitimacy, as it indicated moral and ritual purity.
Jake:
When they weren’t hauling water or cutting firewood, the American prisoners plied their trades in service to Maquinna. Thompson repaired the Western-style clothing that he and Jewett preferred to wear, but he would also make clothes for Maquinna’s household and for the king to give as gifts. Sometimes from broadcloth that had been on the Boston as a trade good, sometimes from otter skins, and often from a rough-woven indigenous cloth made from the fiber of pine and cedar bark. As soon as John Jewett had recovered enough from the head wound that he received in the attack on the Boston to swing a hammer, his narrative recalls, I found myself sufficiently well to go to work at my trade, and making for the king and his wives, bracelets, and other small ornaments of copper or steel, and in repairing the arms, making use of a large square stone for the anvil, and heating my metal in a common wood fire.
Jake:
Though he wrote in his diary that he was always looking for a means of escape and secretly hoping that he’d be sold to another king who was in closer contact with American or English ships, Jewett earned a reputation as a cheerful prisoner. In a book on Jewett’s captivity, Robert Brown recalls a description of the young Jewett. One of the new Chanalth, who was a young child during Jewett’s captivity, lived long enough to describe his king’s favorite captive to the British-Canadian Indian agent W.E. Banfield in the 1860s. Of this description, Brown wrote, This old man especially remembered Jewett, who was a good-humored fellow, often reciting and singing in his own language for the amusement of the tribesmen. He was described as a tall, well-made youth with a mirthful countenance, whose dress latterly consisted of nothing but a mantle of cedar bark.
Jake:
After about a year in captivity, when the spring whaling season of 1804 commenced, Jewett traded on his reputation for cheerfulness and his observation of Maquinna’s trouble with harpoons to improve his own status somewhat. After watching the king’s harpoon fail and lose yet another whale on April 14th, Jewett’s journal notes, I told him I could make him a very good one out of steel, and it should be sharp as a knife. He ordered me to go to work upon it immediately, which I did, and fixed it for him. The very next day, he presented Maquinna with a steel harpoon, and the king promised to reward him with food if the weapon worked as advertised. On the 16th, the journal continues, Fine and clear weather. Our chief out whaling. Hard times with us. Eat only once a day. No fish can be caught by the natives. They are afraid there will be a famine amongst them. About 2 o’clock p.m., our chief struck a whale and killed him. About 5 o’clock, he was towed by 40 canoes into the cove. The chief was very much delighted with the harpoon I had made for him.
Jake:
Maquinna rewarded the blacksmith with a hundred pounds of blubber. Jewett records that he boiled a chunk of it in seawater with some fresh nettle leaves as greens in the stew. Though they quickly became sick of whale blubber, it gave Thompson and Jewett control of their own meals for a short period. As long as their blubber lasted, they didn’t have to depend on scraps from Maquinna’s table or begging to fill their bellies. Seeing how successful the steel harpoon was, neighboring kings and even lesser chiefs within Maquinna’s orbit asked John Jewett to make similar weapons for them. By this time, Jewett was allowed to make and sell metal items for his own profit when he wasn’t busy at the forge working on a project for Maquinna. He could easily sell copper bracelets and iron fishhooks to earn a more stable diet for himself, but Maquinna forbade him from making harpoons for anyone but the king.
Jake:
A year into his captivity, John Jewett had a working command of the Neuchanoth language. His diary records the details of feast days and gift-giving, of religious rituals performed at the close of the year in December, or before a hunt, or during a lunar eclipse, and of the ceremonial dances performed by Maquinna’s son during most of these events. That son had taken an early liking to Jewett, and sometimes protected him from abuse at the hands of Maquinna’s warriors, who always seemed to want the prisoners dead.
Life as a Slave among the Nuu-Chah-Nulth
Jake:
When John Jewett turned 21 years old a little over a year into his captivity, he wrote that he and Thompson were losing all hope of rescue. Maquinna started insisting that they adopt the local customs as if they intended to spend the rest of their lives among the Nuchanalth. The pair were forbidden from wearing western clothing and forced to go on warlike raids against rival chiefdoms, where they were armed and expected to fight for Maquinna.
Jake:
The final step in their assimilation was marriage. Jewett’s journal and his narrative disagree on how willingly he entered into a union with the daughter of a tributary chief. In his journal, he says that he only consented because to refuse would mean death, and that Maquinna picked out a bride for him. In the later narrative, he gives himself more agency, saying that there was still a threat if he would have refused marriage, but that he was given his choice of any single woman living under the king’s rule. In this version, he chose the eldest daughter of a chief who had Maquinna’s favor and who would provide better food and clothes for his new son-in-law than he enjoyed as a mere slave.
Jake:
Maquinna paid the dowry for Jewett’s new bride, performed the wedding ceremony, and gave Maquinna and his bride an apartment on the upper floor of his own longhouse. Soon after the couple moved into these new rooms, Maquinna’s son chose to live with them, showing just how closely these captives had been incorporated into the royal family. Despite his adoption into the new Chanalth culture, and his fading prospects of rescue, John Jewett held out hope. From time to time, he’d get news of a ship that was trading with another village along the coast. He would always ask if their crews were aware that he was a prisoner. Almost invariably, they knew that he, or someone from an American ship at least, was being held at Nutka, but because of Maquinna’s successful attack on the Boston, other captains were afraid to approach the harbor.
Jake:
News of the attack on the ship Boston had reached the city of Boston by May of 1805. As we saw in the article that I quoted in the Boston Gazette, it was based on an account of Jewett and Thompson’s captivity from the fall of 1803. Word of the two American captives at Nootka Sound spread quickly along the northwest coast, so more details filtered into Boston in the months after the initial story ran. In April of 1806, papers around the country carried this story, based on a letter from China that had been received in Boston. Perhaps it may alleviate affliction by your giving notice that two of the crew of the late ship Boston, captured at Nootka, were living with the natives of that place in September 1804. If my memory serves me, one is named Thompson, the other Jewett Rogers. Both, I believe, belong to Boston. The former, I understand, is the son of a boat builder living at the north end of the town. Every other person on the ship was massacred. The above mentioned were badly wounded in the attack, but after the natives got possession of the ship and learned these two were mechanics, they were spared. Shortly after, they were covered.
Jake:
This article comes close to the truth, but misses some key details. There was no Jewett Rogers, but John Rogers Jewett was from Boston. Just the other Boston. The one in England. John Thompson may or may not have been the son of a boat builder, but he was from Philadelphia. One of the dead men was also named Thompson, but he wasn’t from Boston either, though five of the dead men were. In his article examining early accounts of Jewett’s captivity, F.W. Hoey notes, More particulars must have arrived later, for Captain Samuel Hill, of the Boston ship Lydia, told Jewett that before he sailed from Boston, it was known that there were two survivors, and that Messrs. Amory, the owners of the ill-fated ship, had offered a reward for their release.
Jake:
When Captain Hill returned to Boston, he published a long, detailed account of the attack on the Boston and the capture of Thompson and Jewett. While Hill would eventually meet Jewett, the initial report that he sent back to East Coast newspapers was based on a letter. Since he had plenty of paper, and he knew that his captors couldn’t read English, Jewett wrote letters to every captain whose ship came within sight of Vancouver Island, sending them through intermediaries in the villages surrounding Nootka, where rival groups might have had reason to undermine Maquinna’s power. Among the many details that Hill’s account gives us is that the ships Juno and Mary, commanded by Bowles and Gibbs, who, it seems, had intelligence of the situation of the Boston, and were then coming for the express purpose of taking the ship Boston from the Indians by force.
Jake:
Again, word spread very quickly up and down the coast, even among rival villages. So these two captains from Boston knew within weeks of the attack on the Boston that something was awry in Newcastle, even if they didn’t know exactly what. The details came from John Jewett’s letters, one of which found its way to Captain Hill while his ship Lydia was trading further up the coast. In his article about Jewett’s captivity, F.W. Howe includes this note on the intermediary who delivered the letter to Hill. This chief, whom Jewett calls Machi Ulatilla, took a great interest in him. Jewett wrote 16 letters, which he dispatched by various chiefs, but that convided to Ulatilla, chief of the Kluschats, a tribe living to the north of Nutka, was the only one that appears to have been delivered. Captain Hill said that this chief had paddled miles out to sea to hand him the letter.
Jake:
After outwardly embracing the cultural practices of the Neuchonalth for almost three years, while at the same time secretly entrusting letters begging for rescue to anybody he thought he could trust, Jewett’s prayers were answered on July 19th, 1805.
A Hopeful Rescue
Jake:
In his journal, he wrote, This day, I was engaged in making chisels as usual. At 9 o’clock a.m., the natives were alarmed to see a brig in the offing. Our chief came and told me to leave my work and go with him to look at the brig. I accordingly went and saw her bearing up for Nootka. My heart leapt for joy at the thought of soon getting my liberty.
Jake:
The brig was the Lydia from Boston. In his narrative, Jewett wrote that he suppressed his joy and cautioned Thompson to do the same. He intuited that their only hope for escape was to convince their captors that they were so closely incorporated into the tribe that they no longer wanted to leave. He wrote that they continued their normal work as if nothing had changed until Maquinna came in and asked him his opinion on the best approach. The king asked if he’d be in danger if he paddled out to the Lydia.
Jake:
Jewett said that he’d be safe, especially if he carried a letter of introduction from Jewett saying what a fine and generous king Maquinna was. The king thought this was a capital idea, and he was soon being paddled out into the sound in his giant canoe, with a few otter skins as a gift to the captain, and this letter in hand. To the captain of the brig, Newtke, July 19, 1805. Sir, the bearer of this letter is the Indian king by the name of Maquinna. He was the instigator of the capture of the ship Boston of Boston in North America. John Salter, captain, and of the murder of 25 men of her crew, the only two survivors being now on shore. Wherefore, I hope you will take care to confine him according to his merits, putting in your deadlights, and keeping so good a watch over him that he cannot escape from you. By so doing, we shall be able to obtain a release in the course of a few hours. Signed, John R. Jewett, armorer of the Boston for himself, and John Thompson, sailmaker of the said ship.
Jake:
Captain Hill accepted the gift of skins and read the letter. Then he invited Maquinna to join him in the cabin for a meal fit for a king. As soon as he was inside and separated from his bodyguards, Hill’s officers held Maquinna at gunpoint and sent his retinue back to the shore. Over the next 24 hours, tense negotiations saw the two sides arrange not only a prisoner exchange, but also the return of the few remaining goods that had been taken off at the Boston. When the Lydia finally left Nootka Sound, Maquinna was safe on shore, and Thompson, Jewett, and the Boston’s logbooks, papers, and a few remaining cannons and anchors were on the Lydia.
Jake:
After 28 months as a prisoner, you can understand why Jewett was eager to get on with his life, but there was no way to rush the Lydia’s voyage. They spent the rest of the summer trading up and down the coast, visiting the lower Columbia River in November to get some timber to repair the ship, and learning that they had just missed the American explorers Lewis and Clark, who spent the winter there. Sailing back up the coast, Lydia actually stopped once again at Nootka and traded with Maquinna for furs, with Jewett acting as a translator. Perhaps giving some insight into how willingly he had entered into the Union, John Jewett didn’t even ask to see his wife and infant son during this brief return to Nootka Sound.
Jake:
Finally, on August 11, 1806, 11 months after the rescue, the Lydia turned west and arrived in China that December. While the officers of the Lydia traded in China, Jewett was surprised by an old friend. In the crew of an English vessel that was also trading there, Jewett discovered his next-door neighbor from his years in Kingston-upon-Hull. The neighbor, named John Hill, told him that news of the Boston’s capture had arrived in England before his departure, so Jewett’s parents believed that he had been killed along with the crew. This old acquaintance gave him some clothes, loaned him a small amount of money, and forwarded a letter from Jewett to his father and stepmother on an outward-bound ship.
Jake:
The Lydia left China in February 1807 and arrived in Boston 114 days later.
Jewett’s Return to Boston
Jake:
Thanks to John Hill’s letter, John Jewett’s parents learned of his survival long before Jewett himself arrived in Boston. When the Lydia finally docked at Long Wharf, Jewett found a letter from his stepmother waiting for him at the post office. She confirmed that they had long since given up hope of his survival, so the letter forwarded by Hill had been a nearly overwhelming surprise.
Jake:
However, she was also skeptical and didn’t want to get her hopes up, so she asked John to write her from Boston with proof of life as soon as possible. He sent this letter nearly immediately, finally putting his parents’ minds at ease. This now left John Jewett with the question of what to do next. He had originally undertaken this voyage in order to get himself set up as a metalsmith in Boston. But that was over five years in the past, and a lot had happened since then. He spent some time in the hub trying to decide what to do with this new lease on life, and writing in his narrative, While in Boston, I was treated with much kindness and hospitality by the owners of the ship Boston, Messrs. Francis and Thomas Amory of that place, to whom I feel myself under great obligations for their goodness to me, and the assistance which they so readily afforded a stranger in distress.
Jake:
Jewett published the first version of his Journal of Captivity in Boston before the end of 1807. One gets the impression that he was desperate for any way to make some money that didn’t involve going back to sea. This first edition was a pamphlet of 48 pages, and it doesn’t seem to have sold very well. By 1931, only nine copies were known to be in existence. After that, the documentary trail goes cold for a while. On Christmas Day in 1809, Jewett married Hester Jones in Boston, and they had three sons named Edward, John, and James, born in 1811, 1813, and 1820.
Jake:
At some point, the family moved from Boston to Connecticut, where Richard Alsup tracked them down in 1814. Alsop was a Hartford-based author who had been one of the very few readers of John Jewett’s published journal. He convinced the former captive to join him in expanding and rewriting the journal into A Narrative of the Adventures and Sufferings of John R. Jewett. The revised narrative was published in 1815, and newspapers around New England were soon carrying advertisements for a narrative of the adventures and sufferings of John R. Jewett, only survivor of the crew of the ship Boston during a captivity of nearly three years among the savages of Nootka Sound, with an account of the manners, mode of living, and religious opinions of the natives.
Jake:
The revised narrative reads like an adventure tale in the tradition of Treasure Island, and it sold much more briskly than the original. Modern scholars value the book for its close observation of the Neuchanoth culture and the brief window of time between their first contact with Europeans and their decimation by disease and cultural assimilation. A 1988 review of Jewett’s 1815 book locates it within a continuum of similar works across the centuries. From the appearance of the first captivity narrative in America, Mary Rowlandson’s was published in 1682, the genre has appealed widely. First, largely because of its affinity with spiritual allegory, but increasingly for its political usefulness in justifying white intolerance of a native presence in the shrinking wilderness. But Jewett attempted to give an egalitarian and anthropologically useful view of Nootka culture. His marginal position within an Indian community appeared to make him, if anything, more sensitive to the plight of Indians in white-appropriated land. He seemed to understand the Indian point of view.
Jake:
The importance of this work to later scholars didn’t translate directly to improved fortunes for the Jewett family. The Canadian Dictionary of Biography describes how John Jewett spent his latter years promoting his life story. Jewett earned a brief and local fame through the narrative, which he hawked around New England on a handcart, entertaining his potential customers by singing The Poor Armorer Boy, a song which may have been composed by Alsup. He took part in three performances, in Philadelphia in 1817, of The Armorer’s Escape, or Three Years at Nutka, a dramatic spectacle illuminated by gas, and based on his book. He also performed Nutkin songs and dances in a circus. His book was republished in New York and London, and even translated into German. It continued to appear in various editions throughout the 19th century.
The Legacy of John Jewett
Jake:
But Jewett himself sank out of fame and died, unregarded and poor in Hartford, not yet 38 years of age. On January 12, 1821, the New York Post carried this brief obituary among its notices of ships departing and cargoes for sale.
Jake:
Died at Hartford, Connecticut, Mr. John R. Jewett, aged 37 years, only survivor of the crew of the ship Boston, lost in Nootka Sound in the year 1802.
Jake:
Oakley’s dissertation notes that Jewett’s former captor outlived him, writing, Maquinna died while raiding a Muchalot village in the late 1820s. His enemies drowned him.
Jake:
To learn more about the ship Boston from Boston, and the captivity of the sailor from that other Boston, check out this week’s show notes at hubhistory.com slash 323. There will be a lot for you to read this week, starting with John Jewett’s original version of his journal, the expanded narrative that Richard Alsup helped him create, and the later edition with additional research by Robert Brown. I’ll also link to the journal article by F.W. Hoeway about early accounts of the Boston’s capture, the 2001 article about indigenous whaling and Arctic anthropology, and Michael Harkin’s article about whales and Neuchanalth politics, as well as Elizabeth Willis’ 1988 review of the narrative, and Eric Oakley’s 2017 dissertation titled, Columbia at Sea, America Enters the Pacific, 1787-1793.
Jake:
I’ll link to the newspaper stories that I quoted from, including the first notices of the attack on the Boston and Jewett’s obituary. Plus, I’ll make sure to include some historical maps and illustrations showing where Nootka Sound is and what the villages there look like. If you want to get in touch with us, you can email podcast at hubhistory.com. I still maintain profiles for Hub History on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram, but lately, I’ve mostly been posting and interacting with listeners on Blue Sky. You can find me on Blue Sky by searching for hubhistory.com. I haven’t been as active on Mastodon, but you can find me over there as at hubhistoryatbetter.boston. If none of that social media stuff’s up your alley, just go to hubhistory.com and click on the Contact Us link. While you’re on the site, hit the subscribe link, and be sure that you never miss an episode. If you subscribe on Apple Podcasts, please consider writing us a brief review. If you do, drop me a line, and I’ll send you a Hub History sticker as a token of appreciation. That’s all for now. Stay safe out there, listeners.