One of Seward’s great gifts was simplicity—in spite of a wonderfully
complex mental make-up—and sitting in his inner chamber, he related
very simply the international situation which gave Jeff his great
opportunity. Not once did his voice rise above its even tenor. His large
eyes remained quiet, his cheeks showed no trace of the warm hues that
usually accompany inner excitement, and his lean hands hardly ever left
their position on his desk. Nevertheless, Jeff did not for a moment
doubt but that the great American was speaking from his heart.
“Jeff, do you know anything about Russian-America—Alaska, as it is
beginning to be called?” he asked.
“Nothing at all—except that I wouldn’t want to live there. I have heard
that it’s one big iceberg.”
“That’s the general impression—that it is simply an ice-sheet, worth
nothing at all to any one. Fortunately, nothing could be farther from
the truth. Lately, a few of us have obtained the real facts about
Alaska; but unfortunately, we are not the sole possessors of those
facts. If we were, the problem would be greatly simplified—and I would
have no post to offer you.
“Perhaps you know that a party of American surveyors have recently
returned from Alaska, where they were at work in connection with the
laying of the proposed cable between Siberia and Alaska. The project is
now abandoned, but while in the North, these men obtained certain
valuable information concerning the country. I have here in my desk
their reports, verifying what I have always believed to be the case
about that vast northern territory.
“Jeff, did you know that the territory of Alaska is over half a million
square miles, an area much greater than that of the original thirteen
States? Do you know that it has untold wealth in timber and minerals,
fisheries and furs? Its wealth hasn’t been scratched. While it is true a
great part of it is unfit for agriculture, yet without doubt it will
support a population well over a million—a point not to be overlooked
in these days of teeming races.
“It is true that much of the interior has merciless winters, but
thousands of square miles on the coast side of the mountains have
winters as mild as that of Maryland. Its fur alone, not to be compared
in importance with its fisheries and lumbering that will be developed in
the next few decades, makes it the most important international prize in
the world to-day. And there it lies—almost at our doors—ready to be
taken!”
“I thought Russia owned Alaska,” Jeff remarked.
“Russia does own Alaska—by right of exploration. Just the same, Russia
will not own Alaska always; or very much longer, for that matter. And
this brings us to a very delicate international situation.
“In these days of fleets and armies, Jeff, a country must not own
possessions which it can not defend. In a war with any great power
Russia can not defend Alaska. It is too far from the base of supplies.
Up until now none of her enemy nations have thought it worth while to
take Alaska from her; but now, in these days of expansion, more than one
nation is beginning to look northward. And there is one power in
particular that feels a special need of Alaska—to round out her already
tremendous American possessions. Do you know which of the great powers I
mean?”
“I suppose—England. The friend of the South.”
“Not the friend of the South particularly. Rather the enemy of the
Union. At least, such was her attitude during the late war.”
“In other words, her friendship during the war was not due to any
special fondness for us, but simply because she wanted to see the Union
weakened or destroyed? I beg your pardon, sir, but I can’t believe that.
She befriended us because she thought—she knew that the South was
right.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Jeff. Perhaps in years to come, when England
has a more popular government than now, she will be a real friend of the
South and the North too; but she has been a poor friend lately. Her
ruling classes are suspicious of republics. They want to see us fail.
This is not a statesman’s conjecture, Jeff—unhappily it is a fact. Many
English leaders are jealous of our growing power; and their attitude
during the late war could not be mistaken. The fact that England’s
prosperity largely depends on cotton influenced her business people in
the South’s favor, it is true; but her pro-Southern attitude was mostly
due to the fact that her governing set hates us and fears us. And Jeff,
I am bound I’ll make them groan for it now.
“Those men want to see us broken into many little nations on whom
England can impose her will. They want her to be all-powerful in the new
world as well as the old. She needs Alaska to round out her American
possessions they think,—to give her a full sweep on the Pacific. But I
don’t want England to have Alaska, Jeff. I don’t want to see any great
foreign power increase its holdings in America. Russia is an absolute
monarchy, and except for Alexander himself and a few of the more liberal
nobles, her ruling classes have no friendship for us, yet at present I
would rather she kept it than that England should have it. At least she
defended the Union during the war. Russia, however, can not keep Alaska,
simply because she can not defend it. Sooner or later England will see
an opportunity to seize it; on one excuse or another. And the nation
which should have it—that Nation for whom I dream the greatest power in
all the world of nations—is—”
“United States!”
“Yes. We must have Alaska, Jeff. If we do not get it now, we never will
get it. We need it—perhaps not so much now as later—and particularly,
we don’t want our cousin to get it. And Russia, realizing her inability
to defend it from England, has proposed that we buy it from her—for
seven millions of dollars. Jeff, there never was such a bargain in land
values in recent times.
“Why don’t we snap it up, you ask? Because already England is trying to
hook on to it.
“This is the situation, Jeff. Perhaps you know that the Czar has leased
all of Alaska to a certain Russian corporation, known as the
Russian-American Company. It is semi-imperial, and is an absolute
monopoly. These people have been running Alaska to suit themselves,
until lately. They have had their capital at Sitka, and by enslaving the
Aleuts, they have until recently reaped a tremendous profit in furs.
Lately, however, the Czar put certain restrictions on them that
interfered with their profits, but they hoped that when their charter
was renewed some of these restrictions would be done away with. Their
old charter has at present expired; and they have requested that it be
renewed.
“For several reasons the Czar did not wish to renew it. The principal
one was that he wants to sell Alaska to us, to avoid having it taken
away from him later. A second reason is, perhaps, that he is
dissatisfied with the way the Company has been operating the territory.
He is a liberal monarch and he does not approve of enslaving the native
population; and besides, he seems to be suspicious of his agents in
general. Perhaps he thinks they may be playing into the hands of his
enemies. However, pressure was brought to bear upon him, and he did
offer to renew the Russian Company’s contract, but his terms included
not only those restrictions which had lately cut down the Company’s
profits, but many others. Indeed, he purposely made the terms so
unfavorable that the Company could not ordinarily afford to accept them.
“It didn’t quite work out as he thought, however. The Company did not
want to lose their gold mine. So they planned a little deal with
England.
“You see, Jeff, the Russian-American Company had subleased, by the
treaty of 1839, certain parts of Alaska to the Hudson’s Bay Company, the
great English semi-imperial corporation. Practically all of the mainland
of the Panhandle is already in English hands. Now the Russian-American
Company’s officials conceived of even a closer union with the English
company, the terms of which would be so favorable that they could well
afford to renew their charter with the Czar. In other words, their
acceptance of the Czar’s charter was contingent upon whether they could
make the right kind of a treaty with England as to the operation of the
territory.
“Right now, Jeff, the Hudson’s Bay Company and the Russian-American
Company are trying to get together. If they do get together, the latter
will accept the Czar’s terms as to the renewal of the charter, and the
United States will not get Alaska. It is easy to see who will get
Alaska, however. The English Hudson’s Bay Company will spread throughout
the territory, English people will colonize it; and it will soon be one
of England’s colonial possessions in title as well as in fact.
“Jeff, I want to fool them. I don’t want England to have Alaska. I want
it to be United States territory. And if that deal between the two great
monopolies does not go through before February first of next year, we
_will_ have Alaska.
“On February first the Russian ambassador to America will leave St.
Petersburg with authorization to accept our terms of seven millions of
dollars. The Czar is giving the Russian-American Company until that date
to accept the new charter. Meanwhile, both this Company and the English
officials are taking their time about the matter; they don’t realize
that there is another finger actively in the pie. They have only
contempt for us, the Yankee nation. They think we are a mob-ruled nation
of peasants that can’t begin to lift our head in an international game
between such mighty powers as Russia and England. They don’t know of our
offer or of the Czar’s attitude toward us; and they must not know.
Otherwise they would close their deal and accept the contract at all
costs.
“The rumor of it, however, may leak out. And now, Jeff, I am ready to
talk business.
“We want a man to represent America in this matter. Of course, we have
representatives in Petersburg; but we want to send a secret agent with
secret orders, to Sitka—the capital of Alaska and the seat of the
monopoly. We want a young man, a soldier—one who will take a chance.
“In thinking about whom to send, you came to my mind. You were a Rebel,
but you can’t stay a Rebel all your life. You have a tough frame for all
your pampering by your mother; steady hands and eyes; clean, long,
active muscles. You are somewhat of a gentleman, so you can fit in any
company. You are a handsome devil, in case you have to worm any secrets
out of the ladies. You inherited the makings of a diplomat from your
distinguished father—one of the ablest representatives America ever
had—and your people have always gone in for the consular service and
foreign appointments. Most of all, if you are the same boy you used to
be, nothing pleases you quite so much as an adventure or a fight.
“Jeff, I want you to block that deal between England and Russia. That is
your main instruction. Of course, you can report to me from time to time
how things are going, and any news that has a bearing on the question;
but your main work is—to stop that deal!”
“But how in the world can I stop it, if they want to make it?” Jeff
demanded.
Seward smiled dimly. “How did British-built privateers stop our
merchantmen, the rascals! Jeff, you will have to decide that for
yourself. Living at the Alaskan capital you will see how things are
going, and by watching your chance, you can occasionally throw a monkey
wrench into the Russo-British machinery.
“You don’t have to be afraid of hurting England’s feelings. She needs a
few setbacks to teach her respect for her country cousin. I don’t want
you to get us into war—only the worst of blunderers does that. Her
attitude during the late Rebellion was actually responsible for many
deaths; but we must not repay her in kind. However, there is not much
else that you can’t do, if necessary, according to the secret-service
code that Great Britain understands perfectly well.”
Seward shut his teeth with a click. “The main thing is, Jeff, we want
Alaska. Get it for us by stopping that Russian-American—Hudson’s Bay
Company treaty. Operations will be carried on in Sitka; and you ought to
see a chance to break up their poker game!”
“You mean for me to use _force_?” Jeff demanded incredulously.
“By Heaven, of course use force—in small quantities when it is
absolutely necessary. It is all in the secret-service game. Remember,
however, that guile is better than force any day. I said to you to block
that deal, and I don’t care how you block it, as long as you don’t get
us into an international dispute. I hope you do give England some of her
own medicine: we owe it to her. Of course, if you get caught in some
questionable deal it is at your own risk, because we will have to punish
you to satisfy England and to save our face. That is the risk a
gentleman takes—the risk of the international spy.”
“What will I give as my apparent mission to Alaska?”
“You are to be, outwardly, a special correspondent to one of our great
publications. This is an old joke, of course, but they will think they
see through you, if you show a great interest in the proposed cable and
our fishing rights in Alaskan waters. I will give you a batch of
instructions to look over on your way to Sitka, but, my friend, your
real business concerns a bigger fish than halibut! By Heaven, we’ll
teach England to build privateers to sink our ships! We’ll show her that
the despised Yankee nation—always belittled, always snubbed with
well-bred English snobbery—can play this international game as well as
any of ’em! And if you win”—and Seward’s soft voice dropped a
tone—“America will be your debtor beyond any hope of payment.”
“If I lose?”
“You must not lose. America must never lose; the world’s future is in
our keeping.”
“And aren’t you afraid to offer this post to me, a Rebel?” Jeff asked
soberly.
“Of course I am not. I’m not a fool, either. Do you take the job?” His
tone was casual, unexcited, seemingly almost indifferent.
For a long moment Jeff sat dreaming. Once more his eyes were dark with
inner visions; even beyond Seward’s farseeing eyes to follow. Dead men
came to life; voices long stilled rang in his ears. Jeff was reliving
again the four black years just gone.
The scenes changed with lightning rapidity. He saw the flower of the
South going to war. He felt the glory of their early victories; he heard
the cheers almost drowning out the faint cry of the wounded and dying.
He saw the tide slowly turning as the North gave more and more of her
mighty strength; as the frightful drain on Southern manhood began to
tell. He was with Pickett in his hopeless charge—he walked in the path
of ruin behind Sherman’s invaders. Once more he saw the tall, lonely
figure of the immortal Lee, after the hopeless day at Appomattox; and
the image of the tears the young major had shed on that bitter day
burned in his eyes still.
As Seward sat waiting, Jeff’s expression changed. This was no time for
dreams now: this was his moment of opportunity. His eyes were now hard
and bright, scarcely revealing the warm and gallant heart that Seward
had always understood so well. The Secretary of State was a man of
far-reaching vision; but could he have read the black and bitter
thoughts beyond those glittering eyes he would have withdrawn his offer
in an instant. He thought he knew this youth, and now, through failing
to know him, he had risked a great cause.
His words on Americanism had fallen on deaf ears. He had acted on what
he supposed was actual inspiration; and it was beyond his conception
that he might be playing into the hands of the enemy. To Jeff, this
seemed his moment of tremendous opportunity; but not that for service to
America, or yet for building up his own depleted fortunes. Suddenly he
knew that it was in his power to deal the hated Union a stinging blow,
and at the same time repay England for her late friendship to his
homeland. Seward had blundered, he thought; and why should he not take
advantage of that blunder? He could atone, in some slight degree, for
Southern wrongs.
He was a Rebel still! Seward might not believe that fact now, but he
could be easily convinced! The great statesman had been prepared to
forsake all scruples in dealing with an enemy—as was the code—and now
he might find that a conquered enemy could play the same game. It had
been Jeff’s intention to renounce his United States citizenship,
disavowing forever a people’s government, and take up his residence in
some foreign land. Here was a chance to let flow the poisoned flood of
bitterness and hatred that filled his heart.
“I’ll take the offer,” he replied, looking Seward in the eyes. “I am
only too glad to get it.”
This was true. He was white with exaltation.
Seward smiled happily. “I thought you would, my boy. I usually don’t
make many mistakes in human nature. There can’t be any North or South,
or East or West from now on, Jeff—there can only be America. We must
all believe that and look to it. There alone lies greatness.”
“I am to start at once?”
“At once—as soon as I can fit you out with credentials and an order
from the treasury. You are to go overland, by stage and railroad, as far
as San Francisco; then take ship from there. I have arranged by
telegraph for you to sail on the _Ethan Allen_, with Captain Skinner.”
“Any further instructions?”
“None—only this. Just remember all the time, Jeff, that you are an
American. Not a North Carolinian—just an American. I want you to know
the full meaning of the word.”