In 1792 Baranoff having risen to the command of the Shelikoff-Golikoff
Company, decided to transfer the settlement of Three Saints to the
northern end of the island, as a more central location for the
distribution of supplies. To-day only a few crumbling ruins remain to
mark the site of the first Russian settlement in America--an event of
such vital historic interest to the United States that a monument should
be erected there by this country.
The new settlement was named St. Paul, and was situated on Pavlovsk Bay,
the present site of Kadiak. The great warehouse, built of logs, and
other ancient buildings still remain.
It was during the year of Father Juvenal's death--1796--that the first
Russo-Greek church was erected at St. Paul. It was about this time that
the conversion of twelve thousand natives in the colonies was reported
by Father Jossaph. This amazing statement could only have been made
after one of Baranoff's banquets--to which the astute governor, desiring
that a favorable report should be sent to St. Petersburg, doubtless bade
the half-starved priest.
* * * * *
For the Russian-American Company the Kadiaks and Aleuts were obliged to
hunt and work, at the will of the officers, and to sell all their furs
to the company, at prices established by the latter.
Baranoff, for a time after becoming Chief Director, resided in Kodiak.
All persons and affairs in the colonies were under his control; his
authority was absolute, his decision final, unless appeal was made to
the Directory at Irkutsk; and it was almost impossible for an appeal to
reach Irkutsk.
To-day in Kodiak, as in Sitka, the old and the new mingle. Some of the
old sod-houses remain, and many that were built of logs; but the
majority of the dwellings are modern frame structures, painted white and
presenting a neat appearance, in striking contrast to many of the
settlements of Alaska where natives reside.
The Greek-Russian church shines white and attractive against the green
background of the hill. It is surrounded by a white fence and is shaded
by trees.
I called at the priest's residence and was hospitably received by his
wife, an intelligent, dark-eyed native woman. The interior of the church
is interesting, but lacks the charm and rich furnishings of the one at
Sitka. There is a chime of bells in the steeple; and both steeple and
dome are surmounted by the peculiar Greek-Russian cross which is
everywhere seen in Alaska. It has two short transverse bars, crossing
the vertical shaft, one above and one below the main transverse bar, the
lower always slanting.
The natives of Kodiak are more highly civilized than in other parts of
Alaska. The offspring of Russian fathers and native mothers have
frequently married into white or half-breed families, and the strain of
dark blood in the offspring of these later marriages is difficult to
discern.
I travelled on the _Dora_ with a woman whose father had been a Russian
priest, married to a native woman at Belkoffski. She had been sent to
California for a number of years, and returning, a graduate of a normal
school, had married a Russian. She had a comfortable, well-furnished
home, and her husband appeared extremely fond and proud of her. Her
children were as white as any Russian I have ever seen.
A Russian priest must marry once; but if his wife dies, he cannot marry
again.
This law fills my soul with an unholy delight. It persuades a man to
appreciate his wife's virtues and to condone her faults. Whatever may be
her sins in sight of him and heaven, she is the only one, so far as he
is concerned. It must be she, or nobody, to the end of his days. She may
fill his soul with rage, but he may not even relieve his feelings by
killing her.
The result of this unique religious law is that Russian priests are
uncommonly kind and indulgent to their wives.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," said one who was on the _Dora_, in answer to
a question, "I have a wife. She lives in Paris, where my daughter is
receiving her education. I am going this year to visit them. Yes, yes,
yes."
However, with all the petting and indulgence which the Russian priest
lavishes upon his wife, if what I heard be true,--that he is permitted
neither to cut nor to wash his hair and beard,--God wot she is welcome
to him.
The old graveyard on the hill above Kodiak tempts the visitor, and one
may loiter among the old, neglected graves with no fear of snakes in the
tall, thick grasses.
At first, a woman receives the statement that there are no snakes in
Alaska with open suspicion. It has the sound of an Alaskan joke.
When I first heard it, I was unimpressed. We were nearing a fine field
of red-top, already waist-high, and I waited for the gentleman from
Boston, who believed everything he heard, and imagined far more, to go
prancing innocently through the field.
He went--unhesitatingly, joyously; giving praise to God for his
blessings--as, he vowed, he loved to ramble through deep grass, yet
would rather meet a hippopotamus alone in a mire than a garter-snake
five inches long. The field was the snakiest-looking place imaginable,
and when he had passed safely through, I began to have faith in the
Alaskan snake story.
The climate of Kadiak Island is delightful. The island is so situated
that it is fully exposed to the equalizing influences of the Pacific.
The mean annual temperature is four degrees lower than at Sitka, and
there is twenty per cent less rainfall.
The coast of Alaska is noted for its rainfall and cloudy weather. Its
precipitation is to be compared only to that of the coast of British
Columbia, Washington, and Oregon; and it will surprise many people to
learn that it is exceeded in the latter district.
The heaviest annual rainfall occurs at Nutchek, with a decided drop to
Fort Tongass; then, Orca, Juneau, Sitka, and Fort Liscum. Fort Wrangell,
Killisnoo, and Kodiak stand next; while Tyonok, Skaguay, and Kenai
record only from fifteen to twenty-five inches.
Kadiak Island is a hundred miles long by about forty in width. Its
relief is comparatively low--from three to five thousand feet--and it
has many broad, open valleys, gently rounded slopes, and wooded dells.
Lisiansky was told that the Kadiak group of islands was once separated
from the Aliaska Peninsula by the tiniest ribbon of water. An immense
otter, in attempting to swim through this pass, was caught fast and
could not extricate itself. Its desperate struggles for freedom widened
the pass into the broad sweep of water now known as the Straits of
Shelikoff, and pushed the islands out to their present position. This
legend strengthens the general belief that the islands were once a part
of the peninsula, having been separated therefrom by one of the mighty
upheavals, with its attendant depression, which are constantly taking
place.
A native myth is that the original inhabitants were descended from a
dog. Another legend is to the effect that the daughter of a great chief
north of the peninsula married a dog and was banished with her
dog-husband and whelps. The dog tried to swim back, but was drowned, his
pups then falling upon the old chief and, having torn him to pieces,
reigning in his stead.
In 1791 Shelikoff reported the population of Kadiak Island to be fifty
thousand, the exaggeration being for the purpose of enhancing the value
of his operations. In 1795 the first actual census of Kadiak showed
eighteen hundred adult native males, and about the same number of
females. To-day there are probably not five hundred.
I have visited Kadiak Island in June and in July. On both occasions the
weather was perfect. Clouds that were like broken columns of pearl
pushed languorously up through the misty gold of the atmosphere; the
long slopes of the hillside were vividly green in the higher lights, but
sank to the soft dark of dells and hollows; here and there shone out
acres of brilliant bloom.
To one climbing the hill behind the village, island beyond island
drifted into view, with blue water-ways winding through velvety
labyrinths of green; and, beyond all, the strong, limitless sweep of the
ocean. The winds were but the softest zephyrs, touching the face and
hair like rose petals, or other delicate, visible things; and, the air
was fragrant with things that grow day and night and that fling their
splendor forth in one riotous rush of bloom. Shaken through and through
their perfume was that thrilling, indescribable sweetness which abides
in vast spaces where snow mountains glimmer and the opaline palisades of
glaciers shine.
It is a view to quicken the blood, and to inspire an American to give
silent thanks to God that this rich and peerlessly beautiful country is
ours.
After the transfer, the village of Kodiak was the headquarters of the
Alaska Commercial Company and the Western Fur and Trading Company. The
former company still maintains stores and warehouses at this point. The
house in which the manager resides occupies a commanding site above the
bay. It is historic and commodious, and large house-parties are
entertained with lavish hospitality by Mr. and Mrs. Goss, visitors
gathering there from adjacent islands and settlements.
There are dances, "when the boats are in," in which the civilized native
girls join with a kind of repressed joy that reminds one of New England.
They dress well and dance gracefully. Their soft, dark glances over
their partners' shoulders haunt even a woman dreamily. A century's
silently and gently borne wrongs smoulder now and then in the deep eyes
of some beautiful, dark-skinned girl.
Kodiak is clean. One can stand on the hills and breathe.
For several years after the transfer a garrison of United States troops
was stationed there. Bridges were built across the streams that flow
down through the town, and culverts to drain the marshes. Many of these
improvements have been carelessly destroyed with the passing of the
years, but their early influence remains.
So charming and so idyllic did this island seem to the Russians that it
was with extreme reluctance they moved their capital to Sitka when the
change was considered necessary.
We were rowed by native boys across the satiny channel to Wood Island,
where Reverend C. P. Coe conducts a successful Baptist Orphanage for
native children. Mr. Coe was not at home, but we were cordially
received by Mrs. Coe and three or four assistants. Wood Island, or
Woody, as it was once called, is as lovely as Kadiak; the site for the
buildings of the Orphanage being particularly attractive, surrounded as
it is by groves and dells.
There was a pale green, springlike freshness folded over the gently
rolling hills and hollows that was as entrancing as the first green mist
that floats around the leafing alders on Puget Sound in March.
The Orphanage was established in 1893 by the Woman's American Baptist
Home Mission Society of Boston, and the first child was entered in that
year. Mr. Coe assumed charge of the Orphanage in 1895, and about one
hundred and thirty children have been educated and cared for under his
administration. They have come from the east as far as Kayak, and from
the west as far as Unga. At present there is but one other Baptist
Mission field in Alaska--at Copper Centre.
The purpose of the work is to provide a Christian home and training for
the destitute and friendless; to collect children, that they may receive
an education; and to give industrial training so far as possible.
There were forty-two children in the home at the time of our visit, and
there was a full complement of helpers in the work, including a
physician.
The regular industrial work consists of all kinds of housework for the
girls. Everything that a woman who keeps house should know is taught to
these girls. The boys are taught to plough and sow, to cultivate and
harvest the crops, to raise vegetables, to care for stock and poultry.
Twenty-five acres are under cultivation, and the hardier grains and
vegetables are grown with fair success.
Potatoes yield two hundred and fifty bushels to the acre; and barley,
forty bushels. Cattle and poultry thrive and are of exceeding value,
fresh milk and vegetables being better than medicines for the welfare
of the children. Angora goats require but little care and yield
excellent fleece each year.
The most valuable features of the work are the religious training; the
furnishing of a comfortable home, warm clothing, clean and wholesome
food of sufficient quantity, to children who have been rescued from vice
and the most repulsive squalor; the atmosphere of industry, cleanliness,
kindness, and love; and the medical care furnished to those who may be
suffering because of the vices of their ancestors.
This excellent work is supported by offerings from the Baptist Sunday
Schools of New England, and by contributions from the society with the
yard-long name by which it was established.
We were offered most delicious ginger-cake with nuts in it and big
goblets of half milk and half cream; and we were not surprised that the
shy, dark-skinned children looked so happy and so well cared for. We saw
their schoolrooms, their play rooms, and their bedrooms, with the little
clean cots ranged along the walls.
The children were shy, but made friends with us readily; and holding our
hands, led the way to the dells where the violets grew. They listened to
stories with large-eyed interest, and were, in general, bright,
well-mannered, and attractive children.
It was on Wood Island that the famous and mysterious ice-houses of the
American-Russian Ice Company, whose headquarters were in San Francisco,
were located. Their ruins still stand on the shore, as well as the
deserted buildings of the North American Commercial Company, whose
headquarters were here for many years--the furs of the Copper River and
Kenai regions having been brought here to be shipped to San Francisco.
[Illustration: Copyright by E. A. Hegg, Juneau
ONE AND A HALF MILLIONS OF KLONDYKE GOLD]
The operations of the ice company were shrouded in mystery, many
claiming that not a pound of ice was ever shipped to the California
seaport from Wood Island. Other authorities, however, affirm that at one
time large quantities of ice were shipped to the southern port, and that
the agent of the company lived on Wood Island in a manner as autocratic
and princely as that of Baranoff himself. The whole island was his park
and game preserve; and one of the first roads ever built in Alaska was
constructed here, comprising the circuit of the island, a distance of
about thirteen miles.
There is a Greek-Russian church and mission on the island.
* * * * *
Not far from Wood Island is Spruce.
"Here," says Tikhmenef, "died the last member of the first clerical
mission, the monk Herman. During his lifetime Father Herman built near
his dwelling a school for the daughters of the natives, and also
cultivated potatoes."
Bancroft pokes fun at this obituary. The growing of potatoes, however,
at that time in Alaska must have been of far greater value than any
ordinary missionary work. Better to cultivate potatoes than to teach a
lot of wretched beings to make the sign of the cross and dabble
themselves with holy water--and it is said that this is all the average
priest taught a hundred years ago, the poor natives not being able to
understand the Russian language.
The Kadiak Archipelago consists of Kadiak, Afognak, Tugidak, Sitkinak,
Marmot, Wood, Spruce, Chirikoff (named by Vancouver for the explorer who
discovered it upon his return journey to Kamchatka), and several smaller
ones. They are all similar in appearance, but smaller and less fertile
than Kadiak. A small group northwest of Chirikoff is named the Semidi
Islands.
There is a persistent legend of a "lost" island in the Pacific, to the
southward of Kadiak.
When the Russian missionaries first came to the colonies in America,
they found the natives living "as the seals and the otters lived." They
were absolutely without moral understanding, and simply followed their
own instincts and desires.
These missionaries were sent out in 1794, by command of the Empress
Catherine the Second; and by the time of Sir George Simpson's visit in
1842, their influence had begun to show beneficial results. An Aleutian
and his daughter who had committed an unnatural crime suddenly found
themselves, because of the drawing of new moral lines, ostracized from
the society in which they had been accustomed to move unchallenged. They
stole away by night in a bidarka, and having paddled steadily to the
southward for four days and nights they sighted an island which had
never been discovered by white man or dark. They landed and dwelt upon
this island for a year.
Upon their return to Kadiak and their favorable report of their lone,
beautiful, and sea-surrounded retreat, a vessel was despatched in search
of it, but without success.
To this day it is "Lost" Island. Many have looked for it, but in vain.
It is the sailor's dream, and is supposed to be rich in treasure. Its
streams are yellow with gold, its mountains green with copper glance;
ambergris floats on the waters surrounding it; and all the seals and
sea-otters that have been frightened out of the north sun themselves,
unmolested, upon its rocks and its floating strands of kelp.
One day it will rise out of the blue Pacific before the wondering eyes
of some fortunate wanderer--even as the Northwest Passage, for whose
sake men have sailed and suffered and failed and died for four hundred
years, at last opened an icy avenue before the amazed and unbelieving
eyes of the dauntless Amundsen.