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CHAPTER XIX.
THE SITKA MASSACRE.
1802.
Baranof’s hope that the Kolosh were at length finally
pacified proved to be ill founded. Although he was not aware of it,
disaffection had long been rife among the warlike nations of Sitka and of the
mainland, in the vicinity of the Yakutat settlement. It is said that the
hostile spirit was fostered by the English and American traders, who supplied
the savages with fire-arms, ammunition, and intoxicating drink. Rumors had
reached the commanders of both Sitka and Yakutat that an organized attack was
contemplated on the Russian strongholds; but as the chiefs in their vicinity
continued to profess friendship, and as traffic was carried on as usual, the
agents paid little heed to the repeated warnings. No change was made in the
daily routine about the settlement. Parties were sent out to cut timber in the
forests, and to hunt on the islands and bays. Sentries were posted in
accordance with Baranof’s instructions, but as the force was small in either
place, only the sick and disabled were selected for such duty, and it was
therefore performed in the most inefficient manner. In the meantime, the
savages had matured their plans. Allies had been secured from all the villages
throughout the Alexander Archipelago, and from the populous valley of the Stakhin River, and during the summer of 1802 the blow was
struck which swept from earth the infant colony.
The exact date of the Sitka massacre is not known; the
only survivors were Russian laborers and natives, who were so terrified as to
have taken no note of time. It is certain, however, that the event occurred in
the month of June. The best statements of this incident are contained in
depositions made by the few survivors in the office of the company’s agent at
Kadiak. They were rude, ignorant men, and their ideas and words are crude; but
they are better for the purpose than mine would be, and I will not mar their
testimony by another rendering.
Abrossin Plotnikof, a hunter, who was among those who
were rescued, testified as follows: “In this present year, 1802, about the 24th
day 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 after 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 points of rocks. 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 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 the commander Medvednikof and
the hunters, the savages were throwing to the ground from the balcony on the
water side, while others seized them and carried them to the canoes, which were
close to the fort.”
After mentioning that there were sixteen men in the
barracks, and giving the names of others who were absent on hunting or fishing
expeditions, he continues: “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 blood-thirsty 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 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, Kadiak, with an infant on her breast, and a man from 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 to the ruins of the fort with my companions, and bewailed the
fate of the slain. In this miserable condition we remained for eight days,
without anything 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 hope 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. When I reached the beach I saw behind a
small island a vessel which looked to me like our Ekaterina, but when I
came to our harbor which overlooked the entire bay I found that it was not the Ekaterina,
but an English ship.
“I then ascended the rock where a tent had been set up
when the chief manager was present, and shouted for help. Some Kolosh, who were
near the river, heard my voice, and six of them had almost reached me before I
saw them, and I barely succeeded in escaping from them and hiding in the woods.
Thus I had been chased three times by the savages. They drove me to another
point on the beach, near the cape, where again I hailed the ship, and to my
great joy a boat put off from the vessel to the place where I was standing. I
had barely time to jump into it when the Kolosh in pursuit of me came in sight
again, but when they saw I was already in the boat, they went away again. The
commander of the vessel was in the boat, and when we had got on board, I gave
him a full account of the sad disaster, and asked him to save the girl with her
infant son, and the man whom I had left ashore, and showed them the place where
I had told the girl and man to hide. The captain at once despatched an armed yawl, and fortunately we hit upon the very spot where they were
hiding, and they were taken into the boat and brought on board the ship. The
boat was sent off again immediately to the other side of the bay, and soon
returned, to my great astonishment, with Baturin,
another Russian, whom I recognized with unspeakable joy, and we soon related to
each other our experience.
“We asked the commander of the ship to escort us to
the site of the destroyed fort, to see if anything had been spared by the
savages. He very kindly consented, had the yawl manned again, got in himself,
and took me with him. When we arrived at the ruins he examined the bodies of
the dead, all of which were without heads, except Kabanof,
and we buried them. Of property, we found nothing but the melted barrel of a
brass gun, and a broken cannon, which we picked up and brought to the ship.
When we had been on board the ship three days, two bidarkas came from the shore
with the Sitkan chief, Mikhail, and his nephew. The former asked the captain if
there were any Russians on board, and whether he wished to trade. The captain
said nothing of our presence, and with friendly words coaxed him on board,
together with his nephew, and the Kolosh girl who had been in Kuzmichef’s service at the settlement. At our request, the
captain seized the chief and his nephew, and ordered them to be kept in
confinement, ironed hand and foot, until all the persons captured at the time
of the destruction of the settlement had been given up. The chief told his men
who had remained in the bidarkas to go and bring them. After that they began to
restore our servant-girls and children, not all at once, however, but one by
one. Finally, the captain told the chief that if he did not give up at once all
the prisoners in his hands, he would hang him, and in order to frighten him,
the necessary preparations for the execution were made.
“In the mean time two other English ships entered the
bay and anchored close to each other. With the captain of one of them we were
somewhat acquainted, as he had once wintered with his vessel near our fort.
This was the Abetz. The Kolosh put off to the two ships in many canoes,
and when the commander of the Abetz learned of our misfortunes, he held
a consultation with the captains of the other vessels. As the savages
approached in their canoes he fired grape-shot at them from the cannon,
destroying several. Some of the occupants reached the shore, while many were
drowned. Several of the Kolosh the captain of the Abetz kept as
prisoners, and by that means succeeded in obtaining the release of a few more
of the captured women. As soon as the Kolosh discovered what had been done,
they would not visit the ships any more; but from the girls we learned that
they held prisoner one of our men, Taradanof. We
asked the captain not to release the chief; and when the Kolosh saw that he and
his nephew were not set at liberty, they brought us Taradanof,
four more women, and a large number of sea-otter skins. After taking Taradanof and the women on board, the captain released the
chief and his nephew, though we entreated him not to do so, but to take them to
Kadiak. Both at Sitka and on the voyage the captain supplied us with clothing
and abundant food. The commanders of the other vessels also made us presents of
clothing, as we had lost everything.”
Of another statement concerning this affair, I will
make an abstract. Ekaterina, wife of the Russian Zakhar Lebedef, testified as
follows: “She was in the street of Fort Sv Mikhail at
noon—the day and month she did not know—near the ladder which led to the upper
story where the commander Medvednikof lived. She
heard a Russian shouting, but could not distinguish the words. A man named Tumakaief ran from the kitchen and told her to hasten to
the barracks, as the Kolosh were coming with guns. While he was still speaking,
all the Russians and women who had been in the street ran into the barracks.
The doors were then barricaded; but from the windows we saw an immense crowd of
Kolosh approaching, and they soon surrounded the barracks, armed with guns and
lances.”
The witness then gives the names of those who were
within the barracks, and also of those who were absent, agreeing in this part
of her statement with Plotnikof, and continues: “When
the Kolosh came up they at once rushed at the windows and began a continuous
fire, while the doors were soon broken down in spite of those inside. Among the
first who were hit were the commander and Tumakof; others were also wounded,
when the rest were ordered to the upper story, but though they kept up a
constant fire, they could not do much. When the Kolosh broke into the building,
Tumakof, though wounded, fired the cannon at the entrance and killed a few
Kolosh; whereupon the remainder retreated a little. It was soon evident that
there was not ammunition enough for the cannon in the lower story, and to get a
new supply, one of the men broke through the ceiling between the upper and
lower stories, when flames came through the opening and suffocating smoke. When
the fire spread in the lower story the women were thrust into the basement; but
soon afterward some of the Russians again fired the cannon, and the concussion
broke the door leading from the basement into the street. The women then ran
out and were seized by the Kolosh and carried to the canoes which lay close by.
Thence they could see the Russians jumping down into the street when the fire
drove them out. There they were caught and pierced with lances.”
When all was over, the witness was taken to the winter
village of the Kolosh, where she was treated as a slave. During her presence
there, a messenger was captured, from whom the savages learned of the approach
of a large Aleutian hunting party under Kuskof. An
armed force was sent to overtake and destroy them, but they returned without
having accomplished their object. After many days the widow Lebedef and two
native women, together with fifty sea-otter skins stolen from the Russians,
were placed on board an English ship and finally brought to Kadiak. While on
her way to the ship in a canoe, a savage seated close by the woman whispered to
her that during the attack upon Kuskof’s party only
ten natives had been killed.
On account of the importance of the event, I give one
more narrative of the massacre, that of Baranof’s biographer, Khlebnikof, a patient investigator, though of course
somewhat biased in favor of his countrymen. He relates that “on Sunday, the
18th or 19th of June, after dinner, Medvednikof sent
off a few men to fish, others to look after the nets in the river, and some of
the women went to the woods to pick berries. Only fifteen Russians remained in
the garrison, resting from their labor without the slightest suspicion. A few
of these and some of the women were outside of the barracks.
“The Kolosh women living with the Russians had
informed their countrymen, not only of the number of people in the garrison,
but of all precautionary measures and means of defence,
and the Kolosh chose a holiday for the attack. They suddenly emerged
noiselessly from the shelter of the impenetrable forests, armed with guns,
spears, and daggers. Their faces were covered with masks representing the heads
of animals, and smeared with red and other paint; their hair was tied up and
powdered with eagle down. Some of the masks were shaped in imitation of
ferocious animals with gleaming teeth and of monstrous beings. They were not
observed until they were close to the barracks; and the people lounging about
the door had barely time to rally and run into the building when the savages,
surrounding them in a moment with wild and savage yells, opened a heavy fire
from their guns at the windows. A terrific uproar was continued in imitation of
the cries of the animals represented by their masks, with the object of
inspiring greater terror.
“Medvednikof had only time
to hurry down from the upper story, and bravely attempted to repulse the sudden
attack with the twelve men at his disposal. But the wailing of the women, and
the frightened cries of the children, added to the confusion, and at the same
time nerved the defenders to do their utmost. The assailants broke into the
door of the vestibule, cut through the inside door, and kept up a wild but
continuous fire. Finally the last door of the barracks was broken in, the last
weak barrier which protected the besieged, and in the savages poured. Suddenly
the report of a cannon was heard. Those within range threw themselves down,
while others ran away in terror. A few more well directed and rapid discharges,
and it might have been possible to frighten away the enemy, who were numerous
but cowardly. The bold defenders Medvednikof,
Tumakof, and Shashin were killed, and others dangerously wounded. The women in
the upper story, crazed by fright, crowded with their children to the trap-door
over the stairway. Another cannon-shot was heard, and the trap-door gave way.
The women were precipitated into the street, and in a moment were seized and
carried off to the boats.”
Meanwhile the savages had set fire to the building.
“The flames increased,” continues Khlebnikof, “in the
upper story of the barracks, and the Russians still fighting there, suffocated
in the dense smoke and heat, jumped from the balcony to the ground, in the hope
of gaining the shelter of the woods. But the enraged Kolosh rushed after them
with hideous cries, thrust their lances through them, and dragged them about
for a long time to increase their suffering, and then, with curses and foul
abuse, slowly cut off the heads of the dying men.
“ Skaoushleoot, the false
friend of Baranof, who had been named Mikhailof by
the Russians, stood at the time of the attack upon a knoll opposite the agent’s
house, and having given the signal for the attack, shouted to the canoes with
terrible yells to hasten to the slaughter. Amid fierce outcries, about sixty of
these instantly appeared round the point, filled with armed’ men who, as soon
as they landed, made a rush for the barracks. The number of assailants may be
estimated, without exaggeration, at over a thousand, and the few brave
defenders could not long hold out against them. They fell, struck with bullets,
daggers, and lances, amid the flames and in torture, but with honor. They were
sacrificed for their country. The hordes of Kolosh then poured into the upper
story, and carried away through the smoke and flames furs, trading goods, and
articles belonging to the. murdered men, throwing them to the ground over the
balcony, while others seized the booty and carried it off to the canoes. In the
mean time, not only the barracks, but the commander’s house, the warehouse,
and other buildings, as well as a small vessel just completed, had been burned;
and as the flames, fanned by the wind, leaped upward amid the unearthly howls
of the mad, hurrying savages, the spectacle became hideous and awe-inspiring.”
When the massacre occurred the chief manager was at
Afognak Island; but on hearing that Barber had brought with him three Russians,
two Aleuts, and eighteen women whom he had rescued from the Kolosh at Sitka, he
returned in all haste to Kadiak. Instead of landing the released prisoners at
once, Captain Barber, under the idea that there was war between England and
Russia, cleared his decks for action, prepared his twenty guns for service, and
armed his men. At the same time he declared that from motives of humanity he
had rescued the prisoners from the hands of savages, fed and clothed them, and
neglected his business; and he demanded as compensation 50,000 roubles in cash, or an equivalent in furs at prices to be
fixed by himself. Baranof learned, however, that Barber had not only paid no
ransom, but had even appropriated a large number of sea-otter skins of which
the savages had robbed the Russian magazine. His only expense had been in
clothing the captives, and feeding them on the way to Kadiak. The demand was of
course refused, whereupon the captain threatened to use force if it were not
satisfied within a month. Baranof was somewhat disconcerted. He was without
news from Europe, and unaware of any declaration of war, but he prepared his
settlement for defence as far as lay in his power,
and remonstrated with Barber on the injustice of his claims. At last, after
much haggling and repeated threats on the part of the Englishman, a compromise
was arrived at, and the British philanthropist departed after receiving furs to
the value of 10,000 roubles.
The loss of Fort Sv Mikhail
was a heavy blow to the Russians. Baranof saw at once that his plans for an
advance beyond Sitka to the eastward must be abandoned until the Russians had
been avenged, and to do this he felt himself powerless. His loss in men had
been considerable, and in property enormous. Moreover, he knew not in what
light the misfortune, occurring as it did during his absence, would be viewed
by the company.
Before the close of the year matters assumed a
brighter aspect. On the 13th of September the brig Alexandr arrived from
Okhotsk, and on the 1st of November the brig Elizaveta under Lieutenant Khvostof, the two vessels having on board a hundred and
twenty hunters and laborers, and an immense stock of provisions and trading
goods.
By the Elizaveta Baranof received secret
instructions from the managers of the company, that were of considerable
importance, as they touched on points that subsequently arose between the
governments of Russia, England, Spain, and the United States, in regard to
territorial claims. He was directed to push forward his settlements to the 55th
parallel, to lay claim to Nootka Sound, and to establish forts and garrisons,
with a view to obtain from the English government a settlement of the boundary
question. All explorations to the northward were to cease meanwhile, unless the
advance traders of the company should come in contact with Englishmen, in which
case a line of posts must be constructed. He was instructed to avoid disputes
as to boundary lines, and should they become unavoidable, to declare that,
while insisting on the rights of Russia, he was not authorized to treat on such
a subject, and that the government of Great Britain must address the tzar
directly.
The instructions then touch on the political changes
which had occurred in Europe. Baranof learns for the first time that “the
French nation had been universally acknowledged as a republic, that the wise
administration of the first consul had put an end to the shedding of blood, and
that a universal peace had been declared.” Little did the managers of the
Russian American Company dream how soon this universal peace would be followed
by Austerlitz and Friedland. Allusion is also made to Nelson’s appearance in
the Baltic after the battle of Copenhagen; and though harmony was now restored
between England and Russia, Baranof is cautioned that such misunderstandings
might arise again, and is ordered to collect all the furs gathered at Pavlovsk
and its vicinity, or to ship them to Siberia without delay. In future a naval
officer was to be sent with each transport to take charge of the vessel on the
return voyage.
With regard to the navigator Shields, the managers
write that, “though they have no reason to doubt his zeal, his kinship with the
English may lead him to act to their advantage, and therefore advise Baranof to
use every precaution, to watch his every step, and to keep the board informed,
endeavoring at the same time not to irritate him with suspicions, and not only
to abstain from the slightest provocation of a quarrel with him, but to treat
him kindly and ply him with promises of reward from the government and
pecuniary recognition from the company, in order to attach him the more firmly
to the Russians, and that, under the fatherly rule of his imperial Majesty,
this foreigner may feel to the fullest extent the blessings of his fate, and
see no reason to seek his fortune elsewhere.”
In conclusion, Baranof is enjoined to maintain peace
and good feeling among all, as a necessary condition to the success of the
great and promising enterprise on which the company has just entered. The
execution of all plans is left to him as chief manager of the Russian American
possessions, “under the conviction that he will devote his strength and labors
to the service of the emperor, and thus make known his name in Russian
history.”
From Unalaska also had come good news, though not
unmixed with evil tidings. In May the councillor Banner arrived with intelligence that the Russian American Company had obtained
a new charter and fresh privileges. Baranof had been appointed a shareholder,
and by permission of the emperor Alexander was allowed to wear the gold medal
of the order of St Vladimir, previously bestowed on him by Paul I. The day on
which he heard of his advancement he counted as one of the happiest of his
life. “I went to the barracks,” he says, “where the imperial orders and
documents concerning my promotion were read out, and also the new charter and
privileges granted by highest order. The undeserved favors which our great
monarch has thus showered upon me, almost overwhelmed me. I prayed from the
bottom of my heart that God’s blessings might fall upon him. As a small token
of my gratitude, I donated a thousand roubles for the
establishment of a school here for the instruction of the children of the
Russians and the natives. On the occasion of this holiday I killed a sheep
which had been on the island from our first settlement. What gluttony!”
From Larionof, who had been
appointed agent at Unalaska in 1797, the chief manager received letters, in
which the condition of affairs was depicted in gloomy colors. Supplies of goods
and provisions were nearly exhausted, and no vessels had arrived; while scurvy
and other diseases were playing havoc among the islanders and the few
discontented hunters who still remained.
It is probable that Baranof now proposed to abandon
this settlement; for in April 1803, he ordered Banner to sail for Unalaska in
the Olga, and ship thence, in the Petr y Pavl, all the men that could be spared, the furs and trading goods in the
storehouses, and all the provisions, except what were needed to supply the
islanders until the next visit. He was then to take his best seamen and proceed
for the hunting season to the islands of St Paul and St George, which had not
been visited for many years, and where a vast number of skins must have been
accumulated by the natives.
At Kadiak also much dissatisfaction was caused about
this time by a change in the relations between the company and its employees.
Hitherto all had received a share in the proceeds of the sale of furs in the
Russian markets, but now payment was made for furs procured in accordance with
a price-list made out by the managers, without regard to fluctuations in value.
Of course, in making this arrangement, they insured themselves against the
possibility of loss, by fixing the prices below the market rates. Complaints
and remonstrances were frequent, and the hunters were sorely aggrieved; for a
few months before, Baranof had shipped on the Elizaveta the most
valuable cargo ever sent home to Russia, consisting of 17,000 seaotter skins, in addition to others, representing in all
a sum of not less than 1,200,000 roubles. The value
of this shipment will be the better comprehended when I state that the cargoes
of the 77 private trading vessels which left the coast of Russian America
between the years 1745 and 1803 were estimated as worth little more than
5,600,000 piastres;15 while those of the seven ships belonging to the Shelikof-Golikof Company, between 1786 and 1797, were valued at less
than 1,200,000 piastres; and the 39 craft which sailed from Alaskan ports in
the employ of the Russian American Company, between 1798 and 1822, had on
board, apart from other cargo, only about 86,600 seaotter skins.
Feeling that he had now given the shareholders of the
company a proof of his zeal in their service, and an earnest of what he might
accomplish in the future, Baranof felt at liberty to turn his thoughts once
more to that thorn in his flesh, the loss of Sitka. In September, 1803, he
sailed for Yakutat with the intention of assembling there the different hunting
parties operating under Kuskof’s superintendence, and
then proceeding on his errand of vengeance. Kuskof,
however, persuaded him that this plan was impracticable without the aid of
sea-going vessels; and he was compelled to bridle his wrath and return to
Kadiak, taking with him but a small quantity of otter skins as the result of
the summer’s operations. Meanwhile Kuskof was left at
Yakutat, with orders to build two small sailing vessels and have them in
readiness for the following year.
In March 1804 the mate Bubnof,
of the company’s service, arrived at Pavlovsk, bringing intelligence of yet one
more distinction conferred on the chief manager. He was appointed by the
emperor to the rank of collegiate councillor, and
thus placed on a level with the proud officers of the naval service who had
caused him no little trouble. Baranof was deeply affected, and tears coursed
down his weather-beaten cheeks as he exclaimed: “I am a nobleman; but Sitka is
lost! I do not care to live; I will go and either die or restore the
possessions of my august benefactor.”
True to this declaration, he began at once to make his
final preparations for the coming campaign. As usual, the natives had to
furnish a contingent, though for years the settlement had been drained of able-
bodied men to recruit the sea-otter parties, until there were barely enough
left at home to provide for the women and children. Three hundred bidarkas with
about eight hundred Aleuts, and a hundred and twenty Russians on board four
small ships, left St Paul harbor on the 2d of April, under command of Demianenkof, bound for the Sitka coast, by way of Ledianof (Cross) Sound, and Baranof in person sailed two
days later with the sloops Ekaterina and Alexandr, leaving Banner
in charge at St Paul. On arriving at Yakutat, he found that Kuskof had strictly obeyed his orders, and that two craft lay on the shore ready to be
launched. The vessels were named the Yermak and the Rostislaf.
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