In our last installment, Khvostov and Davydov finally reached their destination, the American headquarters of the Russian-American Company on Kodiak Island, in the Gulf of Alaska, south of present Anchorage. Since they arrived in November, their first task was to secure their ship, the Sta. Elizaveta, in a safe place and make arrangements for their winter quarters. Davydov’s account of how he spent his short days and long nights over that winter gives an unusually detailed view of the conditions that the members of the Company faced wintering in Alaska. From the tone of his account, he doesn’t seem especially worried about the long winter, and if that agrees with our impression of how a Russian might view the coldest parts of the year, it’s probably with good reason.
The previous installment:
What Davydov and his friends did not do is hunker down and remain inert (although other diaries suggest that Khvostov was a heavy drinker and a mean drunk, and Baranov was famous among the Northwest Coast traders for his capacity for rum.)
Davydov makes reference to the destruction of the Company’s establishment at Sitka earlier in 1802. Baranov had set up the Fort of the Archangel Michael there, but the Tlingit of the area burned it, forcing Baranov to retreat to Kodiak. In 1805, two Russian warships came to the Pacific. With that support Baranov was able to re-establish the settlement at Sitka. He called it Novo-Arkhangelsk (“New Archangel”), and it remained the Russian-American Company’s American headquarters until Russia sold Alaska to the United States in 1867.
A couple of translation notes: I have Davydov refer to “Count” Baranov, even though Baranov was not a noble. However, Davydov uses the deferential honorific “Gospodin,” rather than the ordinarily respectful given name and patronymic, and besides, Baranov ran the Alaskan installations of the Russian-American Company as his personal fiefdom, which they pretty much were. Finally, remember that when Davydov refers to “Americans,” he means Alaskan Natives. He often describes them with the adjective дикий dikiy, meaning wild in the sense of savage or untamed. I’ve generally rendered the word as uncivilized, which is bad enough, but I’ve chosen to include it, with this note, rather than pretend Davydov never said such things. I will point out that as Davydov became better acquainted with the Natives, he referred to them in this way less frequently.
DAVYDOV’S NARRATIVE (Continued)
CHAPTER IV.
Meeting with Count Baranov. The state of affairs of the company in America. My employment. Departure to Okhotsk.
So we are in America! So I have set foot on this wild and almost unknown shore, which I so wished to reach! I have already seen crowds of tribes of peoples new to me, called uncivilized, differing from us in everything; but now I will have even more opportunity to see them, and to note the difference between a man illuminated by the light of sciences and one guided by nature.
We barely had time to moor the ship, when Count Baranov arrived to congratulate us on our safe arrival in America. I could not view without respect a man who has devoted his life to improving the state of the trade here. For twelve years now he has lived in America, with uncivilized and rude peoples, surrounded by constant dangers; fighting the inveterate debauchery of the Russians who are here, with incessant toil, always facing shortages and not rarely true hunger; moreover, having hardly a single person capable of assisting him with the same zeal, he was deprived of means not only to spread the local trade, but even to resist the vengeance of some [native] peoples, or to alleviate the fate of others enslaved by the Russian-American Company. It seems as if he was left to himself without any help to find the means to earn his living and support the establishments in America. All these labors, obstacles, sorrows, shortages, and failures did not weaken the spirit of this rare person, although of course they induced a certain gloom in his temper. Baranov is not very talkative, he is dry until he gets to know you well; but when he does express himself it is with warmth, especially regarding what interests him. He does not easily make acquaintances, but he will spare nothing for his friends; he loves to regale visitors with everything he has, and is always happy to help the poor. Perfect unselfishness is not even his greateds virtue. Not only does he lack greed to gather wealth at the expense of his neighbor; but he also willingly gives what he has justly acquired to his absent acquaintances who are in need. His firmness of spirit and constant exercise of reason are the essence of why the uncivilized people, though they do not love him, respect him; and the glory of the name of Baranov thunders among all the barbarian peoples inhabiting the northwestern coast of America, all the way to the Strait of Juan de Fuca [the entrance to Puget Sound]. The uncivilized people living in remote places sometimes come to watch and marvel that such enterprises can be performed by a man of such small stature. Baranov is shorter than the average person, blond, stout, and has very striking facial features, which have not been erased either by work or by years, although he is already fifty-six years old.
Alexsandr Andreevich Baranov. https://www.nps.gov/subjects/islandofthebluedolphins/alexander-baranov.htm
Together with Baranov, we went to his house. We found there perfect simplicity and neatness. An English ship recently came to Kodiak, from which Baranov bought goods and table supplies, so he fed us a decent dinner, at least for this place.
Baranov quite sincerely admitted how glad he was for the unexpected arrival of Sta. Elizaveta. For five years running not a single vessel has come here from Okhotsk; last summer, the galiot Alexander Nevsky was sent, which lost about 15 people on the way in some infectious fever, which started back in Okhotsk; then wintered on the island of Atka, where the victims transmitted the illness to the inhabitants. They consumed all the food supplies, and arrived at Kodiak about a month before us with an empty ship, and with a small number of sick or infirm people. The master of this galiot said that Sta. Elizaveta was being built in Okhotsk and would come here next year. So, Baranov did not in any way expect us now, especially since the ships of the company never remain at sea until November, except when in a special case they are involuntarily detained. The arrival on Sta. Elizaveta of a fair quantity of different supplies and healthy people (one died at sea) brought peace to Kodiak, where the uncivilized people were inclined to follow the example of other peoples who exterminated the Russians’ establishment on the island of Sitka with all its people this summer. And on Kodiak, the uncivilized ones, having not seen a single ship coming from Okhotsk for five years, began to think that all the Russians had already come to them, and that it was only necessary to exterminate the latter in order to free themselves forever from their power. Shelekhov [Grigory Ivanovich Shelekhov, the founder of the firm that became the Russian-American Company], took several boys from here to Irkutsk to train them in various skills. When they came back, these people told their fellow countrymen that there are lots of Russians, but the uncivilized ones did not want to believe that, and answered: You are deceiving us, or they have bewitched you, and have shown you something that really does not exist and cannot be.
Harbour of St Paul on the Island of Cadiack, Russian sloop-of-war Neva, published by John Booth, Duke Street, Portland Place, London, 1 March 1814. Drawn by Capt Lisiansky, engraved by I. Clark. https://www.digitaljournal.com/tech-science/shipwrecked-in-alaska-a-story-of-survival-200-years-ago/article/487379
Last year, several promyshlenniks who had previously visited Kodiak came here from Unalashka; for which reason the uncivilized ones, seeing men they knew from before, were convinced that they were already the last Russians, and it took the arrival of our two ships to persuade them. For all these reasons, our arrival in America was of great importance for the affairs of the company, especially since in the Kodiak storehouses there were up to sixteen thousand skins of sea otters, and a lot of other soft goods [furs]. Baranov was afraid to entrust such a rich cargo to some inexperienced person for transport to Okhotsk, and he was afraid to keep it all here because such a treasure could become the prey of some pirate if he found out about it; and therefore he told us he was very glad to know he will have the opportunity to send this cargo next year. We were also pleased – first, by the fact that to satisfy our curiosity we can spend the whole winter on Kodiak; second, that we will soon return to Russia; and third, that we will render the company an important service by quick delivery of a cargo worth about two million rubles. And so, at the first meeting, it was proposed that we would leave here in May, to arrive to Okhotsk not before June 20; for any earlier it is not possible to approach those shores, because of the many icebergs there. This ice is brought from the Yamsk and Gizhiginsk bays, usually by the northeastern current near these shores.
7 November.
When we put our ship, after unloading it, in a safe place, and took all possible precautions to preserve it from the severe storms that happen here in winter. Then I was free to take various journeys around Kodiak.
Wherever the company starts a new village, or fortress, it always takes Amanats [hostages] from the residents of that place, who serve as a guarantee of loyalty. For Amanats the usually choose children of leaders and people who have the power to speak for the people, based on intelligence or enterprise. These children are taken to Kodiak, as it is the headquarters of the company’s establishments and the safest place for the Russians, who have been here for so long and conditioned the inhabitants to patient obedience. Amanats were also taken from the Kolyuzha of Bering Bay, or Yakutat, as the indigenous inhabitants call this place. These Amanats, among whom are some adults, sometimes amused us with their dances, which will be described below. The war dance of Kolyuzha is such that one truly cannot look at it without horror.
The people living along the coast of northwestern America, from Bering Bay to Sitka Island and beyond, are called Kolyuzha. Their language is similar, but otherwise every tribe has its own chief. These peoples are generally of a cruel disposition, prone to war and murder, consider it a pleasure to torture captured enemies, and in almost everything they resemble the peoples living in northeastern America, a description of which can be found in Raynal, Kampa and others. I said, that this summer Kolyuzha exterminated the Company fortress on the island of Sitka. There were more than 200 Kodiak islanders there, who suffered the same fate as the Russians; but some of them fled and came here. And now 6 Alyaksin people have arrived from among those who survived in Sitka.
16 November.
In the morning it was snowing, and in the evening, with an east wind, it rained, which drove away all the snow that remained only on the tops of the mountains.
19 November.
The windows of the house in which we lived were facing the bay, and we often fired from them at seagulls and at ducks that swam up to the cliff on which the house stood. On this day I picked a gun, which someone else had loaded with a very large charge without my knowledge, so that it recoiled and knocked me off my feet, but did no more harm.
20 November.
At night the storm was so fierce, and the gusts of wind so strong, that our house trembled severely and seemed ready to fall.
The large huts made by the Americans for Kodiak plays are called Kazhims; and in the harbor the round wooden building is known by this name, in which the Mushers, that is, the company's employees, live. In the middle of this Kazhim, there is an open platform for various occupations, around which small enclosures are made for the Americans to live. Here they perform their plays.
8 December.
Today we were invited to one of those plays, and at 8 o’clock in the evening we came to the Kazhim, where the spectators gathered in one of the side compartments. Having ascended it, we were amazed by the unbearable stuffiness and heat, for in this cramped place up to sixty people of both sexes were sitting around on benches and on the floor. Men, in order not to suffer so much from the heat, were in a state of undress, and many were completely naked.
The action was supposed to represent hunters going out to trap animals. Near a large lighted bowl at the center sat two people with tambourines, or bladders wrapped around a hoop with a handle, so that the tambourine looked like a shuttlecock racquet, only larger. The tambourines are not uniform, and the largest was in the hands of the actor, who represented the chief. On both sides of the bowl stood two girls in kamleikas, dressed in the dandiest way, that is, with a long bone protruding in the nasal cartilage, beads threaded in the lower lip and ears, and a mass of eagle down poured over their heads. Standing beside them were two men with rattles in one hand and kayak oars in the other. The rattles consist of circular double hoops, around which are hung many beaks of birds called hatchets, or known in natural history as sea parrots (Perroquets de mer [the French is in the original, in Roman letters]). On the oars were depicted fish and marine animals. These two characters, smeared with red pencil, also had eagle down on their heads and backs. Instead of hats, they had a kind of cones made of bent twigs, and one such twig passed to each of them in the mouth, like a horse's bit. Various feathers and rock ferns, which remain green in winter, almost completely covered the faces of these Americans. Those sitting with tambourines had feathered headdresses. Several different arrows were suspended from the ceiling above the place of performance, placed crosswise, and tied to them were: 1st a kayak; 2nd stuffed skins, representing various animals; 3rd some hunting tools and stuffed decoys, or Mansiks, which serve the Americans to lure seals. These were deliberately tied with a rope, which a man sitting to the side on the bench, used to swing them to the rhythm of his voice. This man was also among the actors, for he was dressed in a kamleika. To complete the perfect description of this disgraceful place, I must say that its roof was covered with dry grass.
The one representing the chief, with another sitting by the lighted bowl, beat tambourines with sticks; the hunters, with small oars in their hands, shook their rattles in rhythm, and everyone sang in a rather decent voice, occasionally changing the melody, which was controlled by the chief. If the tambourines begin to beat more often, then suddenly everyone would shout, because most of the audience was wound up. The girls all the time were holding on to their kamleikas with both hands and just swaying from side to side. The chief was constantly shouting something, such as: here is the shore, we will moor to it! the beasts will come to the one who has not killed anything yet. And the like. When he uttered: here are the animals! Then suddenly everyone shouted in different voices, imitating the voices of various animals; blew in specially made whistles and in a word made a terrible noise. When the performance was interrupted for a few minutes, the hunters swayed and shook their rattles, in time with one another.
Meanwhile, the actors were brought a variety of food, consisting mostly of berries with fat, and placed around the bowl.
There was also a stone with red spots, representing the coffin of some famous person, in whose memory the next performance was made, but I could not wait for the end of it: my head ached from extreme stuffiness so that I could not have patience to sit longer.
18 December.
This evening I was again in the Kazhim for a play. First, five people came out one after another, all in different costumes, some of which were covered with ferns. They blew pipes hung on threads threaded through the hole in the nasal cartilage, and each grimaced in a special way. One of them was smeared with red pencil, another with coal, two were dressed in parkas, and the fifth in a kamleika, with rattles in hand. Those in kamleikas wore something made of bird skins and hanging down to their knees. Near the lighted bowl were two Americans, not dressed up in any way, but in their usual clothes; what this performance meant, I could not in any way figure out. The interpreter said that these were devils deceiving people, but, incidentally, he himself did not know anything; for the only people who know about legends of these plays, or pretend to be experts, especially about those related to the concept of spirits, are the people the local islanders call Kyasyats; that is, the sages who invent these ideas, talk about the events in the lives of the inhabitants of Kodiak and neighboring islands, about Devils, etc. If an Islander does not know how to give an answer to a question asked him, then he answers: that is something the Kyasyat knows.
When the devils turned and left, the men began to drive out the women and children. This happens with them after their plays, when the islanders gather at the various villages, and at the end discuss public affairs; and for this they send women out. But in this instance that custom could not be the reason; this time it must of course have related to some kind of ritual of superstition, for which I very much desired to know the interpretation. When all the extra people left, a man appeared in a kamleika with excellent game and rattles in his hands, representing an evil spirit. He shouted and ran from place to place, in tune with the song that all the audience sang, and one beat the tambourines. It was then all over. After that there was to have been another performance, but I did not want to stay for it.
Later, I learned the following from the Russians about the reason for the expulsion of women: at the end of the presentation by the spirits, the women, mistaking them for actual Devils, are looking for a place to hide; for these spirits run everywhere and pinch everyone who comes across them. In the past they stabbed people with small knives wrapped in grass for this, except for the very end, so that this wound would not be deep. Nowadays, the Islanders do not do this, but the women are no less afraid of the imaginary spirits, either from superstition, or from the fear of being pinched.
This is the first of what will be three installments during Khvostov and Davydov’s stay on Kodiak. Next time they will attend another play, and explore Kodiak and the surrounding islands.