Inspired by the important discoveries of this expedition and by the hope
of a profitable fur trade with China, various Russian traders and
adventurers, known as "promyshleniki," made voyages into the newly
discovered regions, pressing eastward island by island, and year by
year; beginning that long tale of cruelty and bloodshed in the Aleutian
Islands which has not yet reached an end. Men as harmless as the
pleading, soft-eyed seals were butchered as heartlessly and as
shamelessly, that their stocks of furs might be appropriated and their
women ravished. In 1745 Alexei Beliaief and ten men inveigled fifteen
Aleutians into a quarrel with the sole object of killing them and
carrying off their women. In 1762, the crew of the _Gavril_ persuaded
twenty-five young Aleutian girls to accompany them "to pick berries and
gather roots for the ship's company." On the Kamchatkan coast several of
the crew and sixteen of these girls were landed to pick berries. Two of
the girls made their escape into the hills; one was killed by a sailor;
and the others cast themselves into the sea and were drowned. Gavril
Pushkaref, who was in command of the vessel, ordered that all the
remaining natives, with the exception of one boy and an interpreter,
should be thrown overboard and drowned.
These are only two instances of the atrocious outrages perpetrated upon
these innocent and childlike people by the brutal and licentious traders
who have frequented these far beautiful islands from 1745 to the
present time. From year to year now dark and horrible stories float down
to us from the far northwestward, or vex our ears when we sail into
those pale blue water-ways. Nor do they concern "promyshleniki" alone.
Charges of the gravest nature have been made against men of high
position who spend much time in the Aleutian Islands. That these gentle
people have suffered deeply, silently, and shamefully, at the hands of
white men of various nationalities, has never been denied, nor
questioned. It is well known to be the simple truth. From 1760 to about
1766 the natives rebelled at their treatment and active hostilities were
carried on. Many Russians were killed, some were tortured. Solovief,
upon arriving at Unalaska and learning the fate of some of his
countrymen, resolved to avenge them. His designs were carried out with
unrelenting cruelty. By some writers, notably Berg, his crimes have been
palliated, under the plea that nothing less than extreme brutality could
have so soon reduced the natives to the state of fear and humility in
which they have ever since remained--failing to take into consideration
the atrocities perpetrated upon the natives for years before their open
revolt.
In 1776 we find the first mention of Grigor Ivanovich Shelikoff; but it
was not until 1784 that he succeeded in making the first permanent
Russian settlement in America, on Kodiak Island,--forty-three dark and
strenuous years after Vitus Behring saw Mount St. Elias rising out of
the sea. Shelikoff was second only to Baranoff in the early history of
Russian America, and is known as "the founder and father of Russian
colonies in America." His wife, Natalie, accompanied him upon all his
voyages. She was a woman of very unusual character, energetic and
ambitious, and possessed of great business and executive ability. After
her husband's death, her management for many years of not only her own
affairs, but those of the Shelikoff Company as well, reflected great
credit upon herself.
It was the far-sighted Shelikoff who suggested and carried out the idea
of a monopoly of the fur trade in Russian America under imperial
charter. As a result of his forceful presentation of this scheme and the
able--and doubtless selfish--assistance of General Jacobi, the
governor-general of Eastern Siberia, the Empress became interested. In
1788 an imperial ukase was issued, granting to the Shelikoff Company
exclusive control of the territory already occupied by them. Assistance
from the public coffers was at that time withheld; but the Empress
graciously granted to Shelikoff and his partner, Golikof, swords and
medals containing her portrait. The medals were to be worn around their
necks, and bore inscriptions explaining that they "had been conferred
for services rendered to humanity by noble and bold deeds."
Although Shelikoff greatly preferred the pecuniary assistance from the
government, he nevertheless accepted with a good grace the honor
bestowed, and bided his time patiently.
In accordance with commands issued by the commander at Ohkotsk and by
the Empress herself, Shelikoff adopted a policy of humanity in his
relations with the natives, although it is suspected that this was on
account of his desire to please the Empress and work out his own
designs, rather than the result of his own kindness of heart.
[Illustration: Copyright by E. A. Hegg, Juneau
Courtesy of Webster & Stevens, Seattle
STEAMER "RESOLUTE"]
With the clearness of vision which distinguished his whole career,
Shelikoff selected Alexander Baranoff as his agent in the territory
lying to the eastward of Kodiak. In Voskressenski, or Sunday,
Harbor--now Resurrection Bay, on which the town of Seward is
situated--Baranoff built in 1794 the first vessel to glide into the
waters of Northwestern America--the _Phoenix_. At the request of
Shelikoff a colony of two hundred convicts, accompanied by twenty
priests, were sent out by imperial ukase, and established at Yakutat
Bay, under Baranoff. During the years that followed many complaints were
entered by the clergy against Baranoff for cruelty, licentiousness, and
mismanagement of the company's affairs. But, whatever his faults may
have been, it is certain that no man could have done so much for the
promotion of the company's interests at that time as Baranoff; nor could
any other so efficiently have conducted its affairs.
It was during his governorship that the rose of success bloomed
brilliantly for the Russian-American Company in the colonies. He was a
shrewd, tireless, practical business man. His successors were men
distinguished in army and navy circles, haughty and patrician, but
absolutely lacking in business ability, and ignorant of the unique
conditions and needs of the country.
After Baranoff's resignation and death, the revenues of the company
rapidly declined, and its vast operations were conducted at a loss.
It was in 1791 that Baranoff assumed command of all the establishments
on the island of the Shelikoff Company which, under imperial patronage,
had already secured a partial monopoly of the American fur trade. Owing
to competition by independent traders, the large company, after the
death of Shelikoff, united with its most influential rival, under the
name of the Shelikoff United Company. The following year this company
secured an imperial ukase which granted to it, under the name of the
Russian-American Company, "full privileges, for a period of twenty
years, on the coast of Northwestern America, beginning from latitude
fifty-five degrees North, and including the chain of islands extending
from Kamchatka northward to America and southward to Japan; the
exclusive right to all enterprises, whether hunting, trading, or
building, and to new discoveries, with strict prohibition from
profiting by any of these pursuits, not only to all parties who might
engage in them on their own responsibility, but also to those who
formerly had ships and establishments there, except those who have
united with the new company."
In the same year a fort was established by Baranoff, on what is now
Sitka Sound. This was destroyed by natives; and in 1804 another fort was
erected by Baranoff, near the site of the former one, which he named
Fort Archangel Michael. This fort is the present Sitka. Its
establishment enabled the Russian-American Company to extend its
operations to the islands lying southward and along the continental
shore.
We now come to the most fascinating portion of the history of Alaska.
Not even the wild and romantic days of gold excitement in the Klondike
can equal Baranoff's reign at Sitka for picturesqueness and mysterious
charm. The strength and personality of the man were such that to-day one
who is familiar with his life and story, entering Sitka, will
unconsciously feel his presence; and will turn, with a sigh, to gaze
upon the commanding height where once his castle stood.
There were many dark and hopeless days for Baranoff during his first
years with the company, and it was while in a state of deep
discouragement and hopelessness that he received the news of his
appointment as chief manager of the newly organized Russian-American
Company. Most of his plans and undertakings had failed; many Russians
and natives had been lost on hunting voyages; English and American
traders had superseded him at every point to the eastward of Kodiak;
many of his Aleutian hunters had been killed in conflict with the savage
Thlinkits; he had lost a sloop which had been constructed at
Voskressenski Bay; and finally, he had returned to Kodiak enduring the
agonies of inflammatory rheumatism, only to be reproached by the
subordinates, who were suffering of actual hunger--so long had they been
without relief from supply ships.
In this dark hour the ship arrived which carried not only good tidings,
but plentiful supplies as well. Baranoff's star now shone brightly,
leading him on to hope and renewed effort.
In the spring of the following year, 1799, Baranoff, with two vessels
manned by twenty-two Russians, and three hundred and fifty canoes, set
sail for the eastward. Many of the natives were lost by foundering of
the canoes, and many more by slaughter at the hands of the Kolosh, but
finally they arrived at a point now known as Old Sitka, six miles north
of the present Sitka, and bartered with the chief of the natives for a
site for a settlement. Captain Cleveland, whose ship _Caroline_, of
Boston, was then lying in the harbor, describes the Indians of the
vicinity as follows: "A more hideous set of beings in the form of men
and women, I had never before seen. The fantastic manner in which many
of the faces were painted was probably intended to give them a more
ferocious appearance; and some groups looked really as if they had
escaped from the dominions of Satan himself. One had a perpendicular
line dividing the two sides of the face, one side of which was painted
red, the other black, with the hair daubed with grease and red ochre,
and filled with the down of birds. Another had the face divided with a
horizontal line in the middle, and painted black and white. The visage
of a third was painted in checkers, etc. Most of them had little
mirrors, before the acquisition of which they must have been dependent
on each other for those correct touches of the pencil which are so much
in vogue, and which daily require more time than the toilet of a
Parisian belle."
These savages were known to be treacherous and dangerous, but they
pretended to be friendly, and fears were gradually allayed by continued
peace. The story of the great massacre and destruction of the fort is of
poignant interest, as simply and pathetically told by one of the
survivors, a hunter: "In this present year 1802, about the twenty-fourth
of June--I do not remember the exact date, but it was a holiday--about
two o'clock in the afternoon, I went to the river to look for our
calves, as I had been detailed by the commander of the fort, Vassili
Medvednikof, to take care of the cattle. On returning soon after, I
noticed at the fort a great multitude of Kolosh people, who had not only
surrounded the barracks below, but were already climbing over the
balcony and to the roof with guns and cannon; and standing upon a little
knoll in front of the out-houses, was the Sitka toyon, or chief,
Mikhail, giving orders to those who were around the barracks, and
shouting to some people in canoes not far away, to make haste and assist
in the fight. In answer to his shouts sixty-two canoes emerged from
behind the points of rocks." (One is inclined to be sceptical concerning
the exact number of canoes; the frightened hunter would scarcely pause
to count the war canoes as they rounded the point.) "Even if I had
reached the barracks, they were already closed and barricaded, and there
was no safety outside; therefore, I rushed away to the cattle yard,
where I had a gun. I only waited to tell a girl who was employed in the
yard to take her little child and fly to the woods, when, seizing my
gun, I closed up the shed. Very soon after this four Kolosh came to the
door and knocked three times. As soon as I ran out of the shed, they
seized me by the coat and took my gun from me. I was compelled to leave
both in their hands, and jumping through a window, ran past the fort and
hid in the thick underbrush of the forest, though two Kolosh ran after
me, but could not find me in the woods. Soon after, I emerged from the
underbrush, and approached the barracks to see if the attack had been
repulsed, but I saw that not only the barracks, but the ship recently
built, the warehouse and the sheds, the cattle sheds, bath house and
other small buildings, had been set on fire and were already in full
blaze. The sea-otter skins and other property of the company, as well as
the private property of Medvednikof and the hunters, the savages were
throwing from the balcony to the ground on the water side, while others
seized them and carried them to the canoes, which were close to the
fort.... All at once I saw two Kolosh running toward me armed with guns
and lances, and I was compelled to hide again in the woods. I threw
myself down among the underbrush on the edge of the forest, covering
myself with pieces of bark. From there I saw Nakvassin drop from the
upper balcony and run toward the woods; but when nearly across the open
space he fell to the ground, and four warriors rushed up and carried him
back to the barracks on the points of their lances and cut off his head.
Kabanof was dragged from the barracks into the street, where the Kolosh
pierced him with their lances; but how the other Russians who were there
came to their end, I do not know. The slaughter and incendiarism were
continued by the savages until the evening, but finally I stole out
among the ruins and ashes, and in my wanderings came across some of our
cows, and saw that even the poor dumb animals had not escaped the
bloodthirsty fiends, having spears stuck in their sides. Exercising all
my strength, I was barely able to pull out some of the spears, when I
was observed by two Kolosh, and compelled to leave the cows to their
fate and hide again in the woods.
"I passed the night not far from the ruins of the fort. In the morning I
heard the report of a cannon and looked out of the brush, but could see
nobody, and not wishing to expose myself again to further danger, went
higher up in the mountain through the forest. While advancing cautiously
through the woods, I met two other persons who were in the same
condition as myself,--a girl from the Chiniatz village, Kodiak, with an
infant on her breast, and a man from the Kiliuda village, who had been
left behind by the hunting party on account of sickness. I took them
both with me to the mountain, but each night I went with my companions
to the ruins of the fort and bewailed the fate of the slain. In this
miserable condition we remained for eight days, with nothing to eat and
nothing but water to drink. About noon of the last day we heard from the
mountain two cannon-shots, which raised some hopes in me, and I told my
companions to follow me at a little distance, and then went down toward
the river through the woods to hide myself near the shore and see
whether there was a ship in the bay."
He discovered, to his unspeakable joy, an English ship in the bay.
Shouting to attract the attention of those on board, he was heard by six
Kolosh, who made their way toward him and had almost captured him ere he
saw them and made his escape in the woods. They forced him to the shore
at a point near the cape, where he was able to make himself heard by
those on the vessel. A boat put off at once, and he was barely able to
leap into it when the Kolosh, in hot pursuit, came in sight again. When
they saw the boat, they turned and fled.
When the hunter had given an account of the massacre to the commander of
the vessel, an armed boat was sent ashore to rescue the man and girl who
were in hiding. They were easily located and, with another Russian who
was found in the vicinity, were taken aboard and supplied with food and
clothing.
The commander himself then accompanied them, with armed men, to the site
of the destroyed fort, where they examined and buried the dead. They
found that all but Kabanof had been beheaded.
Three days later the chief, Mikhail, went out to the ship, was persuaded
to go aboard, and with his nephew was held until all persons captured
during the massacre and still living had been surrendered. The prisoners
were given up reluctantly, one by one; and when it was believed that all
had been recovered, the chief and his nephew were permitted to leave the
ship.
The survivors were taken to Kodiak, where the humane captain of the ship
demanded of Baranoff a compensation of fifty thousand roubles in cash.
Baranoff, learning that the captain's sole expense had been in feeding
and clothing the prisoners, refused to pay this exorbitant sum; and
after long wrangling it was settled for furs worth ten thousand roubles.
Accounts of the massacre by survivors and writers of that time vary
somewhat, some claiming that the massacre was occasioned by the broken
faith and extreme cruelty of the Russians in their treatment of the
savages; others, that the Sitkans had been well treated and that Chief
Mikhail had falsely pretended to be the warm and faithful friend of
Baranoff, who had placed the fullest confidence in him.
Baranoff was well-nigh broken-hearted by his new and terrible
misfortune. The massacre had been so timed that the most of the men of
the fort were away on a hunting expedition; and Baranoff himself was on
Afognak Island, which is only a few hours' sail from Kodiak. Several
Kolosh women lived at the fort with Russian men; and these women kept
their tribesmen outside informed as to the daily conditions within the
garrison. On the weakest day of the fort, a holiday, the Kolosh had,
therefore, suddenly surrounded it, armed with guns, spears, and daggers,
their faces covered with masks representing animals.
About this time Krusenstern and Lisiansky sailed from Kronstadt, in the
hope--which was fulfilled--of being the first to carry the Russian flag
around the world. Lisiansky arrived at Kodiak, after many hardships,
only to receive a written request from Baranoff to proceed at once to
Sitka and assist him in subduing the savages and avenging the officers
and men lost in the fearful massacre. On the 15th of August, 1804, he
therefore sailed to eastward, and on the twentieth of the same month
entered Sitka Sound. The day must have been gloomy and Lisiansky's mood
in keeping with the day, for he thus describes a bay which is, under
favorable conditions, one of the most idyllically beautiful imaginable:
"On our entrance into Sitka Sound to the place where we now were, there
was not to be seen on the shore the least vestige of habitation. Nothing
presented itself to our view but impenetrable woods reaching from the
water-side to the very tops of the mountains. I never saw a country so
wild and gloomy; it appeared more adapted for the residence of wild
beasts than of men."
Shortly afterward Baranoff arrived in the harbor with several hundred
Aleutians and many Russians, after a tempestuous and dangerous voyage
from Yakutat, the site of the convict settlement. He learned that the
savages had taken up their position on a bluff a few miles distant,
where they had fortified themselves. This bluff was the noble height
upon which Baranoff's castle was afterward erected, and which commands
the entire bay upon which the Sitka of to-day is located. Lisiansky, in
his "Voyage around the World," describes the Indians' fort as "an
irregular polygon, its longest side facing the sea. It was protected by
a breastwork two logs in thickness, and about six feet high. Around and
above it tangled brushwood was piled. Grape-shot did little damage, even
at the distance of a cable's length. There were two embrasures for
cannon in the side facing the sea, and two gates facing the forest.
Within were fourteen large huts, or, as they were called then, and are
called at the present time by the natives, barabaras. Judging from the
quantity of provisions and domestic implements found there, it must have
contained at least eight hundred warriors."
An envoy from the Kolosh fort came out with friendly overtures, but was
informed that peace conditions could only be established through the
chiefs. He departed, but soon returned and delivered a hostage.
Baranoff made plain his conditions; agreement with the chiefs in person,
the delivery of two more hostages, and permanent possession of the
fortified bluff.
The chiefs did not appear, and the conditions were not accepted. Then,
on October 1, after repeated warnings, Baranoff gave the order to fire
upon the fort. Immediately afterward, Baranoff, Lieutenant Arlusof, and
a party of Russians and Aleutians landed with the intention of storming
the fort. They were repulsed, the panic-stricken Aleutians stampeded,
and Baranoff was left almost without support. In this condition, he
could do nothing but retreat to the boats,--which they were barely able
to reach before the Kolosh were upon them. They saved their
field-pieces, but lost ten men. Twenty-six were wounded, including
Baranoff himself. Had not their retreat at this point been covered by
the guns of the ship, the loss of life would have been fearful.
The following day Lisiansky was placed in command. He opened a rapid
fire upon the fort, with such effect that soon after noon a peace envoy
arrived, with promise of hostages. His overtures were favorably
received, and during the following three days several hostages were
returned to the Russians. The evacuation of the fort was demanded; but,
although the chief consented, no movements in that direction could be
discovered from the ships. Lisiansky moved his vessel farther in toward
the fort and sent an interpreter to ascertain how soon the occupants
would be ready to abandon their fortified and commanding position. The
reply not being satisfactory, Lisiansky again fired repeatedly upon the
stronghold of the Kolosh. On the 3d of October a white flag was hoisted,
and the firing was discontinued. Then arose from the rocky height and
drifted across the water until far into the night the sound of a
mournful, wailing chant.
When dawn came the sound had ceased. Absolute silence reigned; nor was
there any living object to be seen on the shore, save clouds of carrion
birds, whose dark wings beat the still air above the fort. The Kolosh
had fled; the fort was deserted by all save the dead. The bodies of
thirty Kolosh warriors were found; also those of many children and dogs,
which had been killed lest any cry from them should betray the direction
of their flight.
The fort was destroyed by fire, and the construction of magazines,
barracks, and a residence for Baranoff was at once begun. A stockade
surrounded these buildings, each corner fortified with a block-house.
The garrison received the name of Novo Arkangelsk, or New Archangel. The
tribal name of the Indians in that locality was Sitkah--pronounced
Seetkah--and this short and striking name soon attached itself
permanently to the place.
Immense houses were built solidly and with every consideration for
comfort and safety, and many families lived in each. They ranged in size
from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet in length, and about
eighty in width, and were from one to three stories high with immense
attics. They were well finished and richly papered. The polished floors
were covered with costly rugs and carpets, and the houses were furnished
with heavy and splendid furniture, which had been brought from St.
Petersburg. The steaming brass samovar was everywhere a distinctive
feature of the hospitality and good cheer which made Sitka famous.
To the gay and luxurious life, the almost prodigal entertainment of
guests by Sitkans from this time on to 1867, every traveller, from
writers and naval officers down to traders, has enthusiastically
testified. At the first signal from a ship feeling its way into the dark
harbor, a bright light flashed a welcome across the water from the high
cupola on Baranoff's castle, and fires flamed up on Signal Island to
beacon the way.
The officers were received as friends, and entertained in a style of
almost princely magnificence during their entire stay--the only thing
asked in return being the capacity to eat like gluttons, revel like
roisterers, and drink until they rolled helplessly under the table; and,
in Baranoff's estimation, these were small returns, indeed, to ask of a
guest for his ungrudging and regal hospitality.
Visions of those high revels and glittering banquets of a hundred years
ago come glimmering down to us of to-day. Beautiful, gracious, and
fascinating were the Russian ladies who lived there,--if we are to
believe the stories of voyagers to the Sitka of Baranoff's and
Wrangell's times. Baranoff's furniture was of specially fine workmanship
and exceeding value; his library was remarkable, containing works in
nearly all European languages, and a collection of rare paintings--the
latter having been presented to the company at the time of its
organization.
Baranoff had left a wife and family in Russia. He never saw them again,
although he sent allowances to them regularly. He was not bereft of
woman's companionship, however, and we have tales of revelry by night
when Baranoff alternately sang and toasted everybody, from the Emperor
down to the woman upon his knee with whom he shared every sparkling
glass. He had a beautiful daughter by a native woman, and of her he was
exceedingly careful. A governess whom he surprised in the act of
drinking a glass of liquor was struck in sudden blind passion and turned
out of the house. The following day he sent for her, apologized, and
reinstalled her with an increased salary, warning her, however, that his
daughter must never see her drink a drop of liquor. When in his most
gloomy and hopeless moods, this daughter could instantly soothe and
cheer him by playing upon the piano and singing to him songs very
different from those sung at his drunken all-night orgies.
That there was a very human and tender side to Baranoff's nature cannot
be doubted by those making a careful study of his tempestuous life. He
was deeply hurt and humiliated by the insolent and supercilious
treatment of naval officers who considered him of inferior position,
notwithstanding the fact that he was in supreme command of all the
Russian territory in America. From time to time the Emperor conferred
honors upon him, and he was always deeply appreciative; and it is
chronicled that when a messenger arrived with the intelligence that he
had been appointed by the Emperor to the rank of Collegiate Councillor,
Baranoff, broken by the troubles, hardships, and humiliations of his
stormy life, was suddenly and completely overcome by joy. He burst into
tears and gave thanks to God.
"I am a nobleman!" he exclaimed. "I am the equal in position and the
superior in ability of these insolent naval officers."
In 1812 Mr. Wilson P. Hunt, of the Pacific Fur Company, sailed from
Astoria for Sitka on the _Beaver_ with supplies for the Russians. By
that time Baranoff had risen to the title and pomp of governor, and was
living in splendid style befitting his position and his triumph over
the petty officers, whose names are now insignificant in Russian
history.
Mr. Hunt found this hyperborean veteran ensconced in a fort which
crested the whole of a high, rocky promontory. It mounted one hundred
guns, large and small, and was impregnable to Indian attack unaided by
artillery. Here the old governor lorded it over sixty Russians, who
formed the corps of the trading establishment, besides an indefinite
number of Indian hunters of the Kodiak tribe, who were continually
coming and going, or lounging and loitering about the fort like so many
hounds round a sportsman's hunting quarters. Though a loose liver among
his guests, the governor was a strict disciplinarian among his men,
keeping them in perfect subjection and having seven guards on duty night
and day.
Besides those immediate serfs and dependents just mentioned, the old
Russian potentate exerted a considerable sway over a numerous and
irregular class of maritime traders, who looked to him for aid and
munitions, and through whom he may be said to have, in some degree,
extended his power along the whole Northwest Coast. These were American
captains of vessels engaged in a particular department of trade. One of
the captains would come, in a manner, empty-handed, to New Archangel.
Here his ship would be furnished with about fifty canoes and a hundred
Kodiak hunters, and fitted out with provisions and everything necessary
for hunting the sea-otter on the coast of California, where the Russians
had another establishment. The ship would ply along the California
coast, from place to place, dropping parties of otter hunters in their
canoes, furnishing them only with water, and leaving them to depend upon
their own dexterity for a maintenance. When a sufficient cargo was
collected, she would gather up her canoes and hunters and return with
them to Archangel, where the captain would render in the returns of his
voyage and receive one-half of the skins as his share.
Over these coasting captains the old governor exerted some sort of sway,
but it was of a peculiar and characteristic kind; it was the tyranny of
the table. They were obliged to join in his "prosnics" or carousals and
his heaviest drinking-bouts. His carousals were of the wildest and
coarsest, his tempers violent, his language strong. "He is continually,"
said Mr. Hunt, "giving entertainment by way of parade; and if you do not
drink raw rum, and boiling punch as strong as sulphur, he will insult
you as soon as he gets drunk, which is very shortly after sitting down
at table."
A "temperance captain" who stood fast to his faith and kept his sobriety
inviolate might go elsewhere for a market; he was not a man after the
governor's heart. Rarely, however, did any captain made of such unusual
stuff darken the doors of Baranoff's high-set castle. The coasting
captains knew too well his humor and their own interests. They joined
with either real or well-affected pleasure in his roistering banquets;
they ate much and drank more; they sang themselves hoarse and drank
themselves under the table; and it is chronicled that never was Baranoff
satisfied until the last-named condition had come to pass. The more the
guests that lay sprawling under the table, upon and over one another,
the more easily were trading arrangements effected with Baranoff later
on.
Mr. Hunt relates the memorable warning to all "flinchers" which occurred
shortly after his arrival. A young Russian naval officer had recently
been sent out by the Emperor to take command of one of the company's
vessels. The governor invited him to one of his "prosnics" and plied him
with fiery potations. The young officer stoutly maintained his right to
resist--which called out all the fury of the old ruffian's temper, and
he proceeded to make the youth drink, whether he would or not. As the
guest began to feel the effect of the burning liquors, his own temper
rose to the occasion. He quarrelled violently with his almost royal
host, and expressed his young opinion of him in the plainest
language--if Russian language ever can be plain. For this abuse of what
Baranoff considered his magnificent hospitality, he was given
seventy-nine lashes when he was quite sober enough to appreciate them.
With all his drinking and prodigal hospitality, Baranoff always managed
to get his own head clear enough for business before sobriety returned
to any of his guests, who were not so accustomed to these wild and
constant revels of their host's; so that he was never caught napping
when it came to bargaining or trading. His own interests were ever
uppermost in his mind, which at such times gave not the faintest
indication of any befuddlement by drink or by licentiousness of other
kinds.
For more than twenty years Baranoff maintained a princely and despotic
sway over the Russian colonies. His own commands were the only ones to
receive consideration, and but scant attention was given by him to
orders from the Directory itself. Complaints of his rulings and
practices seldom reached Russia. Tyrannical, coarse, shrewd, powerful,
domineering, and of absolutely iron will, all were forced to bow to his
desires, even men who considered themselves his superiors in all save
sheer brute force of will and character. Captain Krusenstern,
a contemporary, in his account of Baranoff, says: "None but
vagabonds and adventurers ever entered the company's services as
Promishleniks;"--uneducated Russian traders, whose inferior vessels were
constructed usually of planks lashed to timbers and calked with moss;
they sailed by dead reckoning, and were men controlled only by animal
instincts and passions;--"it was their invariable destiny to pass a life
of wretchedness in America." "Few," adds Krusenstern, "ever had the good
fortune to touch Russian soil again."
In the light of present American opinion of the advantages and joys of
life in Russia, this naive remark has an almost grotesque humor. Like
many of the brilliantly successful, but unscrupulous, men of the world,
Baranoff seemed to have been born under a lucky star which ever led him
on. Through all his desperate battles with Indians, his perilous voyages
by sea, and the plottings of subordinates who hated him with a helpless
hate, he came unharmed.
During his later years at Sitka, Baranoff, weighed down by age, disease,
and the indescribable troubles of his long and faithful service, asked
frequently to be relieved. These requests were ignored, greatly to his
disappointment.
When, finally, in 1817, Hagemeister was sent out with instructions to
assume command in Baranoff's place, if he deemed it necessary, the
orders were placed before the old governor so suddenly and so
unexpectedly that he was completely prostrated. He was now failing in
mind, as well as body; and in this connection Bancroft adds another
touch of ironical humor, whether intentional or accidental it is
impossible to determine. "One of his symptoms of approaching
imbecility," writes Bancroft, "being in his sudden attachment to the
church. He kept constantly about him the priest who had established the
first church at Sitka, and, urged by his spiritual adviser, made large
donations for religious purposes."
The effect of the unexpected announcement is supposed to have shortened
Baranoff's days. Lieutenant Yanovsky, of the vessel which had brought
Hagemeister, was placed in charge by the latter as his representative.
Yanovsky fell in love with Baranoff's daughter and married her. It was,
therefore, to his own son-in-law that the old governor at last gave up
the sceptre.
[Illustration: Copyright by F. H. Nowell, Seattle
"OBLEUK," AN ESKIMO GIRL IN PARKA]
By strength of his unbreakable will alone, he arose from a bed of
illness and painfully and sorrowfully arranged all the affairs of his
office, to the smallest and most insignificant detail, preparatory to
the transfer to his successor.
It was in January, 1818, that Hagemeister had made known his appointment
to the office of governor; it was not until September that Baranoff had
accomplished his difficult task and turned over the office.
There was then, and there is to-day, halfway between the site of the
castle and Indian River, a gray stone about three feet high and having a
flat, table-like surface. It stands on the shore beside the hard, white
road. The lovely bay, set with a thousand isles, stretches sparkling
before it; the blue waves break musically along the curving shingle; the
wooded hills rise behind it; the winds murmur among the tall trees.
The name of this stone is the "blarney" stone. It was a favorite retreat
of Baranoff's and there, when he was sunken in one of his lonely or
despondent moods, he would sit for hours, staring out over the water.
What his thoughts were at such times, only God and he knew,--for not
even his beloved daughter dared to approach him when one of his lone
moods was upon him.
In the first hour that he was no longer governor of the country he had
ruled so long and so royally, he walked with bowed head along the beach
until he reached his favorite retreat. There he sat himself down and for
hours remained in silent communion with his own soul. He had longed for
relief from his arduous duties, but it had come in a way that had broken
his heart. His government had at last listened to complaints against
him, and, ungrateful for his long and faithful service, had finally
relieved him with but scant consideration; with an abruptness and a lack
of courtesy that had sorely wounded him.
Nearly thirty of his best years he had devoted to the company. He had
conquered the savages and placed the fur trade upon a highly profitable
basis; he had built many vessels and had established trading relations
with foreign countries; forts, settlements, and towns had risen at his
indomitable will. Sitka, especially, was his own; her storied splendor,
whose fame has endured through all the years, she owed entirely to him;
she was the city of his heart. He was her creator; his life-blood, his
very heart beats, were in her; and now that the time had really come to
give her up forever, he found the hour of farewell the hardest of his
hard life. No man, of whatsoever material he may be made, nor howsoever
insensible to the influence of beauty he may deem himself to be, could
dwell for twenty years in Sitka without finding, when it came to leaving
her, that the tendrils of her loveliness had twined themselves so
closely about his heart that their breaking could only be accomplished
by the breaking of the heart itself.
Of his kin, only a brother remained. The offspring of his connection
with a Koloshian woman was now married and settled comfortably. A son by
the same mistress had died. He had first thought of going to his
brother, who lived in Kamchatka; but Golovnin was urging him to return
to Russia, which he had left forty years before. This he had finally
decided to do, it having been made clear to him that he could still be
of service to his country and his beloved colonies by his experience and
advice. Remain in the town he had created and ruled so tyrannically, and
which he still loved so devotedly, he could not. The mere thought of
that was unendurable.
All was now in readiness for his departure, but the old man--he was now
seventy-two--had not anticipated that the going would be so hard. The
blue waves came sparkling in from the outer sea and broke on the curving
shingle at his feet; the white and lavender wings of sea-birds floated,
widespread, upon the golden September air; vessels of the fleet he had
built under the most distressing difficulties and disadvantages lay at
anchor under the castle wherein he had banqueted every visitor of any
distinction or position for so many years, and the light from whose
proud tower had guided so many worn voyagers to safety at last; the
yellow, red-roofed buildings, the great ones built of logs, the chapel,
the significant block-houses--all arose out of the wilderness before his
sorrowful eyes, taking on lines of beauty he had never discovered
before.
From this hour Baranoff failed rapidly from day to day. His time was
spent in bidding farewell to the Russians and natives--to many of whom
he was sincerely attached--and to places which had become endeared to
him by long association. He was frequently found in tears. Those who
have seen fair Sitka rising out of the blue and islanded sea before
their raptured eyes may be able to appreciate and sympathize with the
old governor's emotion as, on the 27th of November, 1818, he stood in
the stern of the _Kutusof_ and watched the beloved city of his creation
fade lingeringly from his view. He was weeping, silently and hopelessly,
as the old weep, when, at last, he turned away.
Baranoff never again saw Sitka. In March the _Kutusof_ landed at
Batavia, where it remained more than a month. There he was very ill; and
soon after the vessel had again put to sea, he died, like Behring, a sad
and lonely death, far from friends and home. On the 16th of April, 1819,
the waters of the Indian Ocean received the body of Alexander Baranoff.
Notwithstanding his many and serious faults, or, possibly because of
their existence in so powerful a character--combined as they were with
such brilliant talent and with so many admirable and conscientious
qualities--Baranoff remains through all the years the most fascinating
figure in the history of the Pacific Coast. None is so well worth study
and close investigation; none is so rich in surprises and delights; none
has the charm of so lone and beautiful a setting. There was no
littleness, no niggardliness, in his nature. "He never knew what avarice
was," wrote Khlebnikof, "and never hoarded riches. He did not wait until
his death to make provision for the living, but gave freely to all who
had any claim upon him."
He spent money like a prince. He received ten shares of stock in the
company from Shelikoff and was later granted twenty more; but he gave
many of these to his associates who were not so well remunerated for
their faithful services. He provided generously during his life for his
family; and for the families in Russia of many who lost their lives in
the colonies, or who were unable through other misfortunes to perform
their duties in this respect.
Born of humble parentage in Kargopal, Eastern Russia, in 1747, he had,
at an early age, drifted to Moscow, where he was engaged as a clerk in
retail stores until 1771, when he established himself in business.
Not meeting with success, he four years later emigrated to Siberia and
undertook the management of a glass factory at Irkutsk. He also
interested himself in other industries; and on account of several
valuable communications to the Civil Economical Society on the subject
of manufacture he was in 1789 elected a member of the society.
[Illustration: Copyright by Dobbs, Nome
A NORTHERN MADONNA]
His life here was a humdrum existence, of which his restless spirit soon
wearied. Acquainting himself with the needs, resources, and
possibilities of Kamchatka, he set out to the eastward with an
assortment of goods and liquors, which he sold to the savages of that
and adjoining countries.
At first his operations were attended by success; but when, in 1789, two
of his caravans were captured by Chuckchi, he found himself bankrupt,
and soon yielded to Shelikoff's urgent entreaties to try his fortunes in
America.
Such is the simple early history of this remarkable man. Not one known
descendant of his is living to-day. But men like Baranoff do not need
descendants to perpetuate their names.
Bancroft is the highest authority on the events of this period, his
assistant being Ivan Petroff, a Russian, who was well-informed on the
history of the colonies.
* * * * *
Many secret reasons have been suspected for the sale of the magnificent
country of Alaska to the United States for so paltry a sum.
The only revenue, however, that Russia derived from the colonies was
through the rich fur trade; and when, after Baranoff's death, this trade
declined and its future seemed hopeless, the country's vast mineral
wealth being unsuspected, Russia found herself in humor to consider any
offer that might be of immediate profit to herself. For seven millions
and two hundred thousands of dollars Russia cheerfully, because
unsuspectingly, yielded one of the most marvellously rich and beautiful
countries of the world--its valleys yellow with gold, its mountains
green with copper and thickly veined with coal, its waters alive with
fish and fur-bearing animals, its scenery sublime--to the scornful and
unappreciative United States.
As early as the fifties it became rumored that Russia, foreseeing the
entire decline of the fur trade, considered Alaska a white elephant upon
its hands, and that an offer for its purchase would not meet with
disfavor. The matter was discussed in Washington at various times, but
it was not until 1866 that it was seriously considered. The people of
the present state of Washington were among those most desirous of its
purchase; and there was rumor of the organization of a trading company
of the Pacific Coast for the purpose of purchasing the rights of the
Russian-American Company and acquiring the lease of the _lisiere_ which
was to expire in 1868. The Russian-American Company was then, however,
awaiting the reply of the Hudson Bay Company concerning a renewal of the
lease; and the matter drifted on until, in the spring of 1867, the
Russian minister opened negotiations for the purchase of the country
with Mr. Seward. There was some difficulty at first over the price, but
the matter was one presenting so many mutual advantages that this was
soon satisfactorily arranged.
On Friday evening, March 25, 1867, Mr. Seward was playing whist with
members of his family when the Russian minister was announced. Baron
Stoeckl stated that he had received a despatch from his government by
cable, conveying the consent of the Emperor to the cession.
"To-morrow," he added, "I will come to the department, and we can enter
upon the treaty."
With a smile of satisfaction, Seward replied:--
"Why wait till to-morrow? Let us make the treaty to-night."
"But your department is closed. You have no clerks, and my secretaries
are scattered about the town."
"Never mind that," said Seward; "if you can muster your legation
together before midnight, you will find me awaiting you at the
department."
By four o'clock on the following morning the treaty was engrossed,
sealed, and ready for transmission by the President to the Senate. The
end of the session was approaching, and there was need of haste in order
to secure action upon it.
Leutze painted this historic scene. Mr. Seward is seen sitting at his
table, pen in hand, listening to the Russian minister. The gaslight,
streaming down on the table, illuminates the outline of "the great
country."
When, immediately afterward, the treaty was presented for consideration
in the Senate, Charles Sumner delivered his famous and splendid oration
which stands as one of the masterpieces of history, and which revealed
an enlightened knowledge and understanding of Alaska that were
remarkable at that time--and which probably surpassed those of Seward.
Among other clear and beautiful things he said:--
"The present treaty is a visible step in the occupation of the whole
North American Continent. As such it will be recognized by the world and
accepted by the American people. But the treaty involves something more.
By it we dismiss one more monarch from this continent. One by one they
have retired; first France, then Spain, then France again, and now
Russia--all giving way to that absorbing unity which is declared in the
national motto: _E pluribus unum._"
There is yet one more monarch to be retired, in all kindness and
good-will, from our continent; and that event will take place when our
brother-Canadians unite with us in deed as they already have in spirit.
For years the purchase was unpopular, and was ridiculed by the press and
in conversation. Alaska was declared to be a "barren, worthless,
God-forsaken region," whose only products were "icebergs and polar
bears"; vegetation was "confined to mosses"; and "Walrussia" was
wittily suggested as an appropriate name for our new possession--as well
as "Icebergia"; but in the face of all the opposition and ridicule,
those two great Americans, Seward and Sumner, stood firmly for the
acquisition of this splendid country. They looked through the mist of
their own day and saw the day that is ours.