Memory Eternal: Tlingit Culture and Russian Orthodox Christianity through Two Centuries 9780295805344, 029580534X, 9780295993867, 0295993863

Table of contents :
Contents
Preface
Acknowledgments
Introduction
Chapter 1. Lingít Kusteeyi: Tlingit Economy, Society, and Religion at the Time of Contact
Chapter 2. Anóoshi: The People "from Under the Horizon"
Chapter 3. The Early Decades of Tlingit-Russian Interaction
Chapter 4. The Tlingit and the Russian Orthodox Church, 1834-67: From the Smallpox Epidemic to the Sale of Alaska
Chapter 5. The Early Decades of the Waashdan Kwáan Rule, 1867-85
Chapter 6. The Massive Conversion to Orthodoxy during the Donskoi Era, 1886-95
Chapter 7. Native Brotherhoods and the Further Development of Tlingit Orthodoxy, 1895-1917
Chapter 8. Village Orthodoxy: The Case of Killisnoo
Chapter 9. Tlingit Orthodoxy as a Cultural System
Chapter 10. The Difficult Years and the Survival of Tlingit Orthodoxy, 1917-67
Chapter 11. Tlingit Orthodoxy in a New Era, 1967-90s
Chapter 12. Conclusion
Notes
Appendix
References
Index

Citation preview

MEMORY ETERNAL

MEMORY ETERNAL Tlingit Culture and Russian Orthodox Christianity through Two Centuries

SERGEI KAN

UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON PRESS

Seattle and London

Publication of this book is made possible, in part, by the generosity of the Claire Garber Goodman Fund for Anthropological Research at Dartmouth College

© 1999 by the University of Washington Press First paperback edition © 2014 by the University of Washington Press Printed in the United States of America 18 17 16 15 14 5 4 3 2 1 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. University of Washington Press www.washington.edu/uwpress Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Kan, Sergei, Memory eternal : Tlingit culture and Russian Orthodox Christianity through two centuries / Sergei Kan. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. isbn 978-0-295-99386-7 (pbk. : alk. paper) 1. Tlingit Indians—Missions—Alaska—Sitka. 2. Tlingit Indians—Religion. 3. Tlingit Indians—Rites and ceremonies. 4. Orthodox Eastern Church—Missions—Alaska—Sitka. 5. Sitka (Alaska)—Social life and customs. I. Title. E99.T6K339 1999 98-52344 266'.19798—DC21 CIP The paper used in this publication is acid-free and meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences— Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48–1984

To my grandmother Lubov' (Lucia) Roshal (1909-97) who waited for this book but did not live to see it and To Charlotte/Elizaveta/TlaktoowU (Littlefield) Young (1916-82) who adopted me as her brother and taught me the meaning of being both Tlingit and Russian Orthodox Memory EternallVechnaia Pamiat'

Contents

Preface

xi Acknowledgments XVI

Introduction XIX

1 /

Lingit Kusteeyi: Tlingit Economy, Society, and Religion at the Time of Contact 3

2/ Anooshi: The People "from Under the Horizon"

25

3 / The Early Decades of Tlingit -Russian Interaction

42 4 / The Tlingit and the Russian Orthodox Church, 1834-67:

From the Smallpox Epidemic to the Sale of Alaska 89

5 / The Early Decades of the Waashdan Kwaan Rule, 1867-85 174 VII

CONTENTS

6 / The Massive Conversion to Orthodoxy during the Donskoi Era, 1886-95 245 7/ Native Brotherhoods and the Further Development of Tlingit Orthodoxy, 1895-1917 278 8 / Village Orthodoxy: The Case of Killisnoo 367

9 / Tlingit Orthodoxy as a Cultural System 404 10 /

The Difficult Years and the Survival of Tlingit Orthodoxy, 1917-67 454

11 /

Tlingit Orthodoxy in a New Era, 1967-90S 519 12 /

Conclusion 548 Notes 551

Appendix 620

References 62 4

Index 651

YIll

Illustrations

Map

2

Drawing of the Novo-Arkhangel'sk palisade, houses, and church

128

Feast-day procession of Creole and Tlingit Orthodox parishioners Tlingit students of the Russian Orthodox School, Sitka, 1886-90 Fr. Vladimir Donskoi

250

268

270

Fr. Anatolii Kamenskii with Tlingit clan leaders, Sitka, late 1897

286

Semeon Kakwaeesh withhis bride and Hieromonk Mefodii 308 Jacob Kanagood, first president of the St. Michael's Brotherhood 309 St. Michael's Brotherhood on steps of St. Michael's Cathedral, Sitka, ca·19oo 310 Orthodox priest blessing the Tlingit fishing fleet

312

St. Michael's Brotherhood with Bishop Innokentii, ca. 1904 326 St. Gabriel's Brotherhood with Bishop Innokentii, ca. 1904 328 Members of St. Michael's and St. Gabriel's brogherhoods, Sitka, 1916- 17

330

Paul Liberty 335 Members of St. Michael's and St. Gabriel's brotherhoods in front of St. Michael's Cathedral, Sitka, 1917-20 338

ix

ILLUSTRATIONS

Funeral scene in a L'uknax.adi clan house

340

Fr. Petr Orlov 353 Fr. Sergei Kostromitinov 354 St. Andrew's Orthodox Church, Killisnoo, late 1890S 373 Fr. Ioann Sobolev and Bishop Innokentii with members of Killisnoo' sSt. John the Baptist Society 386 Kharlampii Sokolov 394 Deisheetaan clan leader KichnaalE and Kharlampii Sokolov 396 Orthodox church societies in front of Juneau's St. Nicholas Church Sitka Orthodox Tlingit lay leaders

482

Fr. Vasilii Amatov and Christmas carolers, Hoonah, late 1930S Charlotte Young, Thomas Young Sr., and Sergei Kan, May 1980 Priest's vestments

536

Parishioners and clergy of St. Michael's Cathedral, 1993

x

480

538

484

535

Preface

I

t would not take a great deal of effort to get a taste of Tlingit Christianity today. On any given Sunday morning, visitors to any Tlingit community would see festively dressed individuals and families on their way to a Russian Orthodox, Presbyterian, Salvation Army, or Assembly of God church. If these visitors attended a Tlingit banquet of some kind-from an annual dinner sponsored by the local chapter of the Alaska Native Brotherhood (A NB) to a memorial potlach (koo.eex'), they would hear one of the local clergymen or a Tlingit elder offer an opening and a closing prayer. At an annual convention of the A N B' S Grand Camp they might still hear the organization's original hymn, "Onward Christian Soldiers." And, finally, if they were to strike up a serious conversation with an old or even a middle-aged Tlingit about the old culture of his or her people, they would most likely hear Christian metaphors being used to explain the past; thus, for example, the old-time shaman might be compared to a Biblical prophet. Based on these impressions, our visitors would have to conclude that, like many other non-Western peoples throughout the world who have been exposed to Christian missionization for a long period of time, the Tlingit have appropriated many aspects of Christianity into their daily life "to the extent that Christianity, along with received customs and traditions, forms a fundamental part of the people's cultural identity" (Barker 1990:259). My own first impressions of Tlingit Christianity and, more specifically, Tlingit Orthodoxy were formed on August 3, 1979 when I, a graduate student in anthropology from the University of Chicago, arrived in Sitka, Alaska, to begin a year of ethnographic research on Tlingit culture and history. On that gloomy, rainy day, the town's Native community was burying Bill Peters, one of its highly respected leaders. The St. Michael's Cathedral, where the funeral service was being held, was packed with people, many of whom seemed to know the order of the service well. The most moving part of this memorial panikhida was the singing by almost xi

PREFACE

everyone present of the Orthodox hymns "Memory Eternal" and "Holy God" in Church Slavonic, Tlingit, and English at the conclusion of the service. From the cathedral, the funeral procession made its way to the local Orthodox cemetery for the interment and then to the local ANB Hall for the post-funeral luncheon. There I heard long speeches in Tlingit and English which invoked traditional as well as Christian images. Thus began my study of Tlingit Orthodoxy. When I had submitted a doctoral dissertation proposal on the history and present form of Tlingit Orthodoxy, prior to going to Alaska, I could not have anticipated being able to develop such close ties with many Orthodox (as well as non-Orthodox) Tlingit and, as a result, gaining a rather deep understanding of their culture. Like many of my peers about to begin ethnographic research in a Native American community in the 1970S, I was nervously preparing for a cool, if not outright hostile, reception from the local Indian people. Little did I know that only a few months after my arrival in Sitka I would be treated as a friend and a kind of marginal member of the St. Michael's parish by several of its leaders and a significant number of other local Orthodox elders and their families. A combination of factors was behind this unexpected development. On the one hand, for many of the elders, Christianity was clearly a "safer," more neutral topic to be discussed with a visiting researcher than traditional ceremonialism and other aspects of what they called the "old customs." On the other hand, the church itself was an institution aimed at including, rather than excluding, newcomers. The fact that I spoke fluent Russian and had some knowledge of the Orthodox service helped make me a welcome or at least a tolerated participant in Sunday liturgies, Christmas caroling, and church banquets. Finally, I was simply very fortunate to come to Sitka during the time when a remarkable Tlingit couple held the two top leadership positions in the parish. The St. Mary's sisterhood was headed by Charlotte Young (Tlaktoowu) (1916-82), whose family had been Orthodox for at least a hundred years and who was proud of her Russian ancestry. Charlotte was a very kind and compassionate woman who quickly made me feel welcome in her church. Her husband, Thomas Young, Sr. (Kaajeetguxeex) (b. 1906), the head (starosta) of the parish and a very knowledgeable traditional elder of high rank, was equally welcoming and would often patiently explain to me the various nuances of the old Tlingit culture as well as Tlingit Orthodoxy. (See fig. 25, p. 535.) For Charlotte, 1979 was a very difficult year. She had recently lost two brothers as well as a maternal uncle, whose funeral I happened to attend on my first day in Sitka; another of her brothers was dying of cancer. Charlotte's grief seems to have been a major reason for her willingness to engage in long conversations Xli

PREFACE

with me about her family and its involvement with the Russian Church as well as her own beliefs about death and the afterlife. Having welcomed me into her parish, Charlotte insisted that I attend the post-funeral ceremonies for her close relatives. These included the so-called "forty-day party," a memorial panikhida held in the church on the fortieth day after death, followed by a banquet. It was at these banquets that I began to see how deeply Russian Orthodox beliefs and ritual practices had penetrated Tlingit culture and how much they have been syncretized with it. There were two ways in which I was able to reciprocate Charlotte's generous sharing of her heritage and family history with me. On the one hand, my presence seemed to gratify her at a time when she needed to share her grief with someone. Of course she had her family and friends, but I had more free time than most of them and showed a strong interest in the local Orthodoxy. On the other hand, having started looking at the documents in the local Orthodox parish archive, I was able to provide Charlotte with some interesting factual information on her ancestors' involvement in the Russian Church. Thus began our "dialogue," which persisted during my entire year in Sitka and lasted for two more years, until Charlotte's death in the summer of 1982. This wonderful woman's greatest gift to me, which played a major role in insuring the success of my ethnographic research, was the decision to adopt me into her house group (lineage) and clan, the Kook Hit (Box House) of the Kaagwaantaan, at the koo.eex' (potlatch, memorial) she and her kin organized in April of 1980 to honor and memorialize her brothers, uncle, and other relatives. Perhaps this decision was prompted by the fact that I had attended the funerals and the forty-day parties for several of those men. After all, the koo.eex' represented the last stage in the cycle of their mortuary and memorial rites. In any event, since that ceremony I have been treated by Charlotte's family and an increasing number of other Tlingit, young and old, as a relative or at least a quasi relative. In that role I have been able to ask more questions and receive more detailed answers. I have also obtained a legitimate place in the local social order, which has led over the years to my participation in several other memorials, including Charlotte's own in the fall of 1984 (for a more detailed discussion of my relationship with Charlotte Young, see Kan n.d.b.). My special relationship with the Young family and a number of other members of the St. Michael's parish as well as my identity as a "Russian" (Anooshi) eventually helped open the doors of several other northern Tlingit communities to me, particularly Angoon, which has had a strong Orthodox presence since the late 1880s. The most furtunate, from the point of view of this project, was my encounter with Jimmie George, Sr. (W60chx Kaduhaa) (1889-1990), the longxiii

PREFACE

time head of the Angoon Orthodox parish and a highly respected tradionalist house group leader. Numerous conversations with him, his family members, and several other elderly Orthodox residents of his community, as well as my twomonth-long stay in Angoon, helped me appreciate the similarities as well as the differences between the Tlingit Orthodoxy of a larger multi ethnic community, like Sitka, and a smaller, more isolated and ethnically much more homogeneous one, like Angoon. Seizing the opportunity to observe contemporary Tlingit memorial koo.eex's first-hand, I decided to combine my study of Tlingit Orthodoxy with an investigation of the traditional form and the current manifestation of the Tlingit mortuary and memorial rites (from the funeral to the koo.eex'), which have always been central to their culture. The result of that work was a 1982 dissertation and a 1989 book, Symbolic Immortality: The Tlingit Potlatch of the Nineteenth Century. The study of the Tlingit mortuary complex led me into a long and detailed exploration of Tlingit ethnopsychology, the system of rank and prestige, and other key aspects of the traditional (nineteenth-century) Tlingit culture and society. Although I had to postpone the work on Tlingit Orthodoxy, my study of the mortuary complex served as a good foundation for the present book. In the 1980s, while working on the potlatch monograph, I also began analyzing a large body of archival materials pertaining to the activities of the Russian Orthodox Church in southeastern Alaska between the 1830S and the 1930S. This combination of archival research, interviews, and participant observation proved most advantageous. Various other forms of documentary evidence, Russian as well as American, discussed in the introduction helped shed additional light on this ethnohistory or historical ethnography of Tlingit Christianity in general and Orthodoxy in particular. Although my study is concerned with the missionaries' own culture, its main goal is to present this history from the Tlingit point of view and it is focused first and foremost on "the locally specific forms Christianity takes and the process by which the recipients of the missionary message transform it into something meaningful to themselves" (Kipp 1990:4). Because the roots of Tlingit Orthodoxy are in the nineteenth-century Tlingit encounter with the Russians and other Westerners, the book encompasses the entire twohundred-year history of Tlingit Orthodoxy, from the arrival of the first Russian missionaries in Alaska in 1794 to the celebration of the Church's bicentennial in 1994· Although a Tlingit historian or anthropologist would likely have written a somewhat different book, over the years, I have found my Tlingit friends and consultants agreeing with many of my conclusions and believe that I have been able to represent their voices and their perspectives fairly accurately. Their XIV

PREFACE

encouragement (and the fact that the number of traditional Orthodox Tlingit elders, whose Christianity I have tried to portray here, is rapidly diminishing) makes me feel positive about this project and keeps at bay postmodern worries about the impossibility of representing "the voice of the Other." I consider this book a modest gift to my Tlingit teachers/consultants and friends and, hence, I have written it with the Tlingit audience very much in mind. While my first monograph was well received by the Native community, one close Tlingit friend told me he needed a dictionary to read it. That is why this time I tried hard to keep the anthropological jargon and heavy theorizing to a minimum. Having worked on this project on and off for twenty years, I am relieved that it is over, yet saddened by having to say good-bye to it. Like the Tlingit people whose lives are described here, this manuscript has become an old friend, an a2(; xooni.

xv

Acknowledgments

The research upon which this book is based began twenty years ago, and so there are many people whose help and encouragement must be acknowledged here. First and foremost, I owe special gratitude to Charlotte (Tlaktoowli) Young who adopted me into her house group and clan and taught me so much about being both Tlingit and Russian Orthodox. Her husband, Thomas CKaajeetguxeex) Young, Sr., and the rest of her family (who have long become my own), particularly Alfreda Lang and George Young, have given me a great deal of information and encouraged me to pursue this project. Equally important for me has been the constant support of my adopted Tlingit older brother, dear friend, and the best teacher/consultant, Mark (Gushdeiheen) Jacobs, Jr. Mark's phenomenal knowledge of Tlingit history and culture and his willingness to answer any of my questions make him every anthropologist's dream. Gunalcheesh, a~ hun~w! Harold Jacobs (Gooch Shaayi), his youngest son, has also become a very valuable source of information and a good friend. Special thanks to Mark's wife, Adelaide, as well as to his sister, Bertha Karras, and her husband, Pete who, for a decade now, have been my most gracious hosts in Sitka. Among my Sitka Tlingit friends and teachers/consultants I would like to thank Betty Allen, Isabella Brady, Herman and Vida Davis, Joe Howard, John and Roby Littlefield, Monte Littlefield, Christine Littlefield, Esther Littlefield, Ethel McKinnen, and Al Perkins. In Angoon, I have been fortunate to count Emma Demmert, Matthew Fred, Sr., Bessy Fred, and several members of the George family, especially Lydia and Jimmy Jr., as my supporters, friends, and teachers/consultants. In Hoonah, I have been generously given some valuable historical information by Amy Marvin, Mary Rudolph, and Lillian White, and in Juneau, by Cecilia Kunz, Amos and Dorothy Wallace, and Walter Soboleff. I owe an even greater debt to the departed Tlingit elders who taught me so much about the history and the cultural significance of Orthodoxy in southeastxvi

ACK NOW LE DGM E NTS

ern Alaska. Among them are Albert Davis, Annie Dick, Jimmie George, Sf., Helen Howard, Andrew P. Johnson, Charlie Joseph, Sr., Mary Marks, William Nelson, Pete Nielsen, Emma Thomas, Innocent Williams, George Jim, Sf., and Mary Willis. Three of my Alaskan friends-Andrew Hope III and Nora and Richard Dauenhauer-have been, for a long time, most valuable colleagues and supporters, without whom this work might not have been accomplished. Among them, Dick Dauenhauer has been particularly generous with ideas, advice, and moral support. His detailed comments on an earlier draft of this book have helped me immensely during the process of revising it for publication. Other specialists on Tlingit culture and history who have given me useful information and supported this work include Frederica deLaguna, Catharine McClellan, and Wallace Olson. Special words of gratitude must be given to those clergymen of the Orthodox Church in America who allowed me to examine parish archives and attend services and other functions and answered my numerous questions. Among these kind persons are His Grace the Right Reverend Gregory, bishop of Sitka and all Alaska (retired in 1995), Father Eugene Bourdukofsky, Father Michael Oleksa, and Father Michael Williams. Staff members of several institutions-including the Alaska State Historical Library, the Sheldon Jackson Museum, the Presbyterian Historical Society, the Beinecke Library of Yale University, the Manuscript Division of the Library of Congress, and the Baker Library of Dartmouth College-have also been extremely helpful and courteous. Several granting agencies, which provided badly needed financial support for this project, include the American Coucil of Learned Societies, the Claire Garber Goodman Fund, and the National Endowment for the Humanities. Two editors at the University of Washington Press deserve a special word of gratitude-Marilyn Trueblood, for championing this project over the course of several years, and Richard von Kleinsmid, for doing such a fine job of copy editing. Although the work of this monograph began in 1979, much of it was done after I began teaching at Dartmouth College where I have found excellent colleagues who have strongly encouraged my work. Two of them-Hoyt Alverson and Colin Calloway-deserve a special word of gratitude. Outside my home institution, two colleagues/friends, Michael Harkin and Igor Krupnik, have been particularly supportive and have listened on many occasions to my attempts to explain what this project is all about. Finally, a big and warm spasibo for love and encouragement should go out to my entire family, and especially my wife, Alla, and my daughter, Elianna. Although Elianna was still in her mother's womb when I was finishing my first XVll

ACK NOWLEDG M E NTS

book, she has witnessed the long and arduous process of researching and writing this one. Even though on many occasions she complained that her "papa" was working on his computer instead of playing with her, I hope some day she will understand why this had to be the case. Because Elianna's coming into this world has been the most important event of the last ten years of my life. I would like to offer her this book as a small token of my love.

xviii

Introduction

h e goal of this book is to establish why in the late nineteenth century many of the northern Tlingit embraced Russian Orthodoxy despite the fact that after the sale of Alaska to the United States its mission was much weaker in terms of finances and staff than its rival Protestant missions, particularly those of the Presbyterians. To answer this question I explore the economic and especially the sociopolitical and the ideological factors that influenced the Native choice. The meaning of Orthodoxy to the Tlingit people, from the late eighteenth to the late twentieth century, is examined as well. Although any Christian missionization project could ultimately be seen as a colonial endeavor, the history of the Orthodox mission in Alaska poses a major challenge to any reductionist Marxist analysis that treats the mission simply as a handmaiden of western colonialism (e.g., Vdovin 1979; Rigby 1992), Whereas in Siberia and Russian America (i.e., the pre-1867 Alaska) Orthodox missionaries did promote indigenous cooperation with the Russian state or the monopolistic fur trading company, in the American-dominated Alaska they lacked any political leverage to coerce the Natives into Christianity and on some occasions were themselves the victims of prejudice and discrimination by those in power. The ideology promoted by the Russian mission among its Native adherents after 1867 was only partially in agreement with the larger project of civilizing and westernizing them that the local American officials, schoolteachers, and Protestant missionaries embarked upon in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. In fact, most of the Orthodox clergymen laboring in Alaska had a very mixed reaction to the rapid introduction of the capitalist economy into the new Territory. Instead of wanting Native Alaskans to become lower-middle-class Victorians who would gradually switch from hunting and fishing to mining, lumbering, agriculture (!), and commerce, they tended to encourage traditional subsistence activities and advocated measures that would protect the indigenous land base from commerXIX

INTRODUCTION

cial exploitation and appropriation by non-Natives. Hence applying the "hegemony" model (e.g., Comaroff and Comaroff 1991; Furniss 1995) to this case is equally problematic. In fact, it appears that the sudden Tlingit turn to Orthodoxy in the mid-1880s was to a large extent a reaction against the political and ideological domination that both secular and religious American "civilizers" had been trying to impose on them since the 1870S . . In order to better understand why many Tlingit chose to become Orthodox, this study also looks at those of them who preferred to be Presbyterian. In" other words, it pays attention to the social and ideological differences between the rival missions as well as between their respective followers. Hence instead of presenting Tlingit society as a monolith, it attempts to establish whether rank, gender, and age were important factors in influencing the choices between different missions made by individuals and social groups (cf. Devens 1992; Furniss 1995; Harkin and Kan 1996). In outlining and interpreting the process of Tlingit conversion to Christianity, this study refuses to portray the Native people as helpless "victims of progress" who totally lost control over their own destiny and abandoned their indigenous culture once the colonial regime had been imposed upon them (Martin 1978; Wolf 1982). It takes issue with Berkhofer's assertion that "once [political] autonomy is lost, the very nature of contact is determined by the nature of the culture in the dominant position. In other words, the Americans called the tune to which the Indians danced regardless of tribal culture" (1963:201). It is equally critical of a more recent statement made by a historian of Native-Western relations in British Columbia: "the demands of the missionaries could not be incorporated into existing Indian society; their teaching and their example had to be either accepted or rejected, and acceptance meant virtually a total cultural change for the proselyte" (Fisher 1992:125). Along with such scholars as the Comaroffs (1991), Barker (1990), Fienup-Riordan (1991), Harkin (1996), and several others, I argue that conversion rarely involves a total change of heart but a subtle process of negotiation and compromise, acceptance of some aspects of the new ideology and rejection of others (cf. Kan 1987b). At the same time, the present work also steers clear of the new overemphasis on the Native resistance to miss ionization which treats Christianity simply as a thin protective veneer underneath which timeless precolonial beliefs and values survive intact and does not allow for a possibility of a genuine Native American Christianity (e.g., Devens 1992). Instead, it portrays the Native people as conscious historical actors who were "active participants rather than passive objects in the conversion process" (Fienup-Riordan 1991:370) and as mediators and translators of the missionary message (cf. Tiffany 1978:302-5). Of course, with the establishment of American xx

INTRODUCTION

rule in Alaska, the Tlingit had to act within the economic and sociopolitical constraints imposed from the outside. However, they retained a certain amount of independence within them and used it to try to adapt Christianity to their own needs and transform it in the process into something more meaningful to them. While, unlike the Native American Peyotists and Shakers of the "lower 48," they did not create an entirely new syncretistic form of Christianity, I argue that until fairly recently (and, to a certain extent, even to this very day) Tlingit Orthodoxy has retained a strong indigenous flavor, and that it was this "indigenization" of Orthodoxyl that played a crucial role in its survival in southeastern Alaska during the 1917-67 era when the Orthodox Church experienced very serious problems, financial and otherwise. In the field of missionary ethnohistory, the Tlingit case is a particularly interesting one not only because of the presence of two very different competing missions but due to the fact that, like other indigenous peoples of the Northwest Coast, the Tlingit never shied away from contacts with Euro-Americans. Instead, they eagerly sought from them what they perceived as useful new tools, technologies, goods, and foodstuffs. At least in the initial stages of contact (i.e., during the Russian era), they were much less interested in the newcomers' religious ideas and practices. Throughout this encounter they have always insisted on being treated as equals and tried hard to maintain what they saw as a balanced reciprocal exchange with the powerful outsiders. It was only in the post -1867 period, when the Tlingit began to lose their political independence and experience "disrespectful" attitudes from the Americans, that they became seriously interested in Christianity not only as a new source of power but as an institution that might help them overcome what Schwartz (1976) calls a sense of "status inferiority" vis-a-vis the Euro-Americans. I believe that throughout the entire post-1867 era the central "project" of Tlingit social life has been not only a struggle for individual and collective survival in the new universe dominated by powerful newcomers but also a concerted effort to maintain what they have often called "respectful" treatment by non-Natives, as well as a sense of self-respect. As Hefner (1993:25) has cogently put it: The changing social environment in which conversion so often unfolds is not simply a product of material forces. Its effects register not only in actors' material well-being but also in their sense of self-worth and community and in their efforts to create institutions for the sustenance of both. This problem of dignity and selfidentification in a pluralized and politically imbalanced world lies at the heart of many conversion histories. xxi

INTRODUCTION

For the Tlingit this "problem of dignity" has been a particularly serious one because of the centrality of rank and prestige in their own pre contact culture. In their struggle for survival the Tlingit of the late 1800s and early 1900S followed two major courses. The first, pursued primarily by the younger and more Americanized persons, involved greater acceptance of Euro-American culture, including language, forms of social interaction, and moral values. The second, subscribed to by a larger segment of the population (especially among the Northern Tlingit) entailed a much stronger adherence to the central principles and values of the pre-Christian sociocultural order, particularly matrilineal solidarity, moiety reciprocity, rank, and a great deal of ritualized attention paid to one's ancestors. The majority of those who followed the first course (referred to as "progressives" in this study) became Presbyterian, while many of the people whom I have labeled "traditionalists" or "conservatives" joined the Russian Church. Although, for reasons explored in this study, this ideological difference between the Presbyterians and the Orthodox was much stronger in such larger communities as Sitka and Juneau where the missionaries had more control over their flock, many of the traditionalist residents of the more isolated communities, such as Angoon/Killisnoo and Hoonah, also tended to be Orthodox. While in my earlier publications on Tlingit Christianization (Kan 1985, 1987a, 1991b) I tended to focus on the symbolic and the ideological aspects of this process, I now realize that without paying equal attention to the economic and especially the sociopolitical dimensions of the Tlingit-Russian and TlingitAmerican encounters one cannot make sense of the changes in their religious system that have been taking place since the 1880s. In other words, I now see the process of Tlingit Christianization as "a -problem in the interplay of power and meaning" (Comaroff and Comaroff 1986:1; cf. Hefner 1993). For that reason my study is as much concerned with the "macro" level of analysis, including such issues as economic, political, and ideological domination of the colonized by the colonizers, as with the "micro" level-the personal meanings of religious beliefs and practices. Hence the analysis presented here tends to move back and forth between the Tlingit society as a whole and its subdivisions (villages, clans, house groups, cohorts, status groups), on the one hand, and individual actors, on the other. My concern with the actor and attempts to introduce as much biographic information on the Tlingit protagonists of my story as possible is a reflection of both a resurgence in anthropology (including the anthropology of missionization) and Native American studies of an interest in the individual (e.g., Langness and Frank 1981; Huber 1988; Kipp 1990; Fienup-Riordan 1991; Blackman 1982; Cruikshank 1990) and my desire to make this book more interesting and useful for the Tlingit readers. XXlI

INTRODUCTION

American Indian Christianity and the Ethnohistorical Method Until recently the study of Native American Christianization has been dominated by historians even though most anthropologists engaged in fieldwork have certainly come across Christian Indians. However, the Boasian paradigm, which for decades dominated American anthropology, emphasized the study of the "traditional" or the "precontact" Native American cultures at the expense of the present-day ones. Even an interest in acculturation, which developed in our discipline in the 1930S, did not produce any substantial investigations of Indian Christianity. In their effort to salvage as much of the record of the "vanishing" Indian culture as possible, most American anthropologists preferred to study more exotic religious phenomena, such as the Sun Dance or the potlatch. 2 As Paul Stuart (1981:46) pointed out, by failing to focus on the Christian churches as Indian institutions, scholars have removed themselves from an important dimension of Indian experience, past and present) Tlingit Christianity is no exception. Despite the fact that many of the informants and interpreters who helped such key figures in Tlingit ethnography as Swanton (1908, 1909), Emmons ([1920-45J 1991), Oberg ([1937] 1973), Olson (1967), and de Laguna (1960, 1972) collect and make sense of rich data were devout Christians, almost nothing has been written by these scholars about either the Tlingit conversion to Christianity or its meaning to them. In fact, much of the valuable information on Tlingit culture these and other anthropologists have collected represents memory ethnography rather than first-hand observations. 4 In the field of American Indian history and ethnohistory, the first monographlength study of the process and effects of Christian missionization on Native societies, which combined careful archival research with social science theory, was Berkhofer's 1965 monograph Salvation and the Savage: An Analysis of Protestant Missions and American Indian Response, 1787-1862. It was followed by such important works as Harrod's 1971 book on the Protestant and Catholic missions among the Blackfeet and more recent studies of the effects of Protestant and Catholic missions on the Algonkian, Iroquoian, and Cherokee peoples by Axtell (1981, 1985), Neal Salisbury (1982), Morrison (1981,1984,1986,1990), McLoughlin (1984, 1994), and a number of other scholars.s While these works display a masterful use of a large corpus of archival data which they utilize effectively to paint a detailed picture of the politics of missionization and the missionaries' culture, they tend to fall short of a deep investigation of the Indian side of the encounter. Of course, part of the problem is the fact that for obvious reasons our knowledge of the seventeenth-century Algonkian or even the eighteenth-century Cherokee culture remains rather limited. However, some of these works tend to present the Indian XXlll

INTRODUCTION

motives for action from a very pragmatic, Western point of view. For example, it is hard to accept Axtell's assertion that the conversion of the seventeenth-century New England Algonkians to Protestantism "entailed wholesale cultural changes from the life they [the Indians 1had known before contact" (1988:51). 6 While Axtell might be criticized for employing what Sahlins (1976) calls "practical reasoning" in his interpretation ofIndian responses to Christianity, Morrison's imaginative and theoretically informed analysis of the Abenaki and the Montagnais interpretations of Catholicism suffers from an excessive idealism, with the material aspects of the conversion process not being given the same kind of attention as is devoted to the symbolic ones. I am not arguing that anthropologists tend to write better ethnohistories of Native American missionization, but it does appear that first-hand experience with the people whose cultural history is being described plays a big role in helping scholars construct more nuanced studies that reflect the Native perspective more accurately. Thus for many years Wallace's Death and Rebirth of the Seneca (1970) remained, in my opinion, an unsurpassed study of religious change in a Native American society. While today many of us would take issue with some of his psychological interpretations of the pre-Christian Iroquois culture, his combination of a sophisticated use of social science theory with painstaking archival research and ethnographic fieldwork resulted in a truly outstanding ethnohistorical work.l More recently another excellent ethnohistorical study of a Native American society's response to Christian missionization has been published by an anthropologist, Ann Fienup-Riordan (1991). In her detailed investigation of the Moravian-Yup'ik encounter on the Kuskokwim River, Fienup-Riordan, like Wallace, combines extensive archival research with insights into the Native culture gained from years of ethnographic fieldwork, knowledge of the local language, and a careful rereading of earlier ethnographies. Like Wallace, she pays equal attention to the sociopolitical and the ideological or symbolic dimensions of the missionary-Native encounter. Beyond North America the most interesting recent studies of the history of Christian miss ionization of indigenous peoples and of the present shape of their Christianity have, in my opinion, also been produced by anthropologists with previous experience of ethnographic research among the peoples whose religious history they have reconstructed and analyzed. Most prominent among these works are the Comaroffs' (1991) monograph on the history of nineteenth-century British missions in southern Africa and several articles in a collection of essays entitled Christianity in Oceania: Ethnographic Perspectives (Barker 1990; cf. Boutilier et al. 1978).8 XXIV

INTRODUCTION

Among scholars working on the ethnohistory of indigenous societies of the Northwest Coast, there has been relatively little work on Christian missionization, despite the fact that missionaries were among the most active agents of change from coastal Oregon to southeastern Alaska. Aside from Fisher's attempt to generalize about the role of missionaries in undermining the integrity of native societies in British Columbia, which I have already criticized here, there are Usher's (1974) study of William Duncan's Christian community of Metlakatla, two articles by Gough (1982, 1983) on individual missionaries among the Nuu-chah-nulth and the Kwakiutl, and an interesting but brief essay by Jay Miller (1984) (the only anthropologist in this group), who used Viola Garfield's data to analyze the activities of one Tsimshian religious practitioner who combined indigenous shamanism with Christianity. The first monograph-length study of a Christianization of a Northwest Coast society is a recent book by Bolt (1992) which details the relationship between Thomas Crosby, a Methodist missionary, and the Tsimshian of Port Simpson. The strength of this work is in its use of a large body of archival materials and its focus on a single missionary who labored in one Indian community for almost twenty-five years (1874-97). Bolt's premise that the Tsimshian were conscious participants in their own westernization (Bolt's "acculturation") is similar to the one my own study is based on. It also differs from these previously mentioned works on the Northwest Coast missions in the greater attention the author pays to the Native side of the Methodist-Tsimshian encounter. However, Bolt (1992:xiii) himself admits that the specific Tsimshian interpretations of Christianity, or what he refers to as "the syncretic nature of the new forms of life in Port Simpson," lie beyond the scope of his study. Once again, the author's use of the written record only limits his understanding of indigenous Christianity. The most promising recent work on the process of miss ionization of a coastal British Columbia people is by Harkin, whose approach is in some ways similar to mine, even though he is much more fond of structuralism and post-structuralism as well as Bakhtin than I am. So far he has produced several first-rate articles on the Heiltsuk-Methodist encounter, as well as a monograph that deals extensively with what he calls the missionary-Heiltsuk "evangelical dialogue" (Harkin 1993, 1994,1996,1997).

Sources and Methodology I used a variety of written materials, published and unpublished, the core of which are the diaries, correspondence, and statistical information contained in the Alaska Russian Church Archives (ARCA), which allowed me to reconstruct a xxv

INTRODUCTION

detailed history of the Orthodox mission in southeastern Alaska. The most detailed records cover the most critical period in its history, the 1880s to 191OS, when large-scale Tlingit conversion took place and the foundation of the twentieth-century Tlingit Orthodoxy was built. The same period is also covered rather extensively by articles in the Russian Orthodox American Messenger, a bilingual Orthodox periodical published between 1896 and 1973. Ecclesiastical documents on the earlier missionary efforts by the Russian clergy are much more sparse but can be supplemented by the archival records of the Russian-American Company and the published descriptions of Russian-Tlingit relations written by visiting Russian government officials, travelers, and navigators.9 The fact that Russian is my first language and the three years I spent in the early 1970S studying Russian history at Moscow State University have helped me in the task of reading the hand-written Russian documents and interpreting their meaning. A variety of published and archival materials from the American era was also used to document the activities of the Orthodox missionaries' main rivals, the Presbyterians, as well as the "civilizing" efforts by government officials. Most valuable among them were the records located in the Presbyterian Historical Society archive in Philadelphia and the John Brady Collection in the Beinecke Library at Yale University. The value of these written records was greatly enhanced by a large body of historical information I was able to obtain from my consultants. Their reminiscences often filled in gaps or even corrected the historical data. They were particularly important in my search for the indigenous meanings of new religious beliefs and practices and for motivations for social action. In some cases these oral histories revealed the missionaries' total misunderstanding of Tlingit behavior or even the clergy's deliberate distortion of the historical record. One very effective method of jogging my informants' memories was to discuss with them photographs of Orthodox parishes and religious ceremonies taken by American photographers at the turn of the century.lO At the same time, written documents helped fill many of the lacunae in the elders' reminiscences and occasionally demonstrated their own conscious or subconscious distortion of the historical record. In addition to numerous interviews and informal conversations with Tlingit elders and their children, I conducted a series of more formal interviews with Orthodox clergymen serving southeastern Alaska parishes. Another effective method utilized in this study is an analysis of Tlingit terms (some of them coined by the missionaries themselves) for Christian concepts, as well as the Russian clergymens' translations of Tlingit words describing religious ideas and practices. The main texts used in this analysis are published and unpublished translations of Biblical passages and prayers prepared by Orthodox XXVI

INTRODUCTION

clergymen, from Ivan Veniaminov ([1840] 1984, 1846) to Vladimir Donskoi (1895), in cooperation with their Tlingit assistants. In addition, a number of Tlingit terms for Christian concepts and practices were obtained by me from elderly Orthodox informants. This linguistic analysis, which I could not have accomplished without the generous assistance of my colleagues Nora Marks Dauenhauer, Richard Dauenhauer, and Jeff Leer, gave me some sense of the Tlingit interpretation of Orthodoxy that was not available from the written record. Finally participation in numerous church services (including major feast days) and religious ceremonies conducted outside the church (e.g., Nativity caroling) as well as banquets sponsored by the Orthodox parishioners of Sitka provided me with an additional perspective on Tlingit Orthodoxy which was very difficult to obtain from the written sources. While one has to be careful not to project impressions of modern-day Tlingit conduct inside the church onto the past, in 1979-80, when I did most of my field research, there still existed a fairly large group of elders whose religious worldview had been shaped at the turn of the century under a heavey influence of their own elders who represented what I refer to as "traditional Tlingit Orthodoxy." One might say that I was very fortunate to begin my research nineteen years ago rather than more recently: today only a handful of the elders I worked with in 1979-80 are alive, and "traditional Tlingit Orthodoxy" is clearly on the decline, even though some of its aspects are being passed down to the younger generations. Having outlined my methods of data gathering and analysis, I must say a few words about any possible biases in my work. On the one hand, I see my project as another contribution to a relatively new body of historical and anthropological research which aims at correcting the anti-Russian and anti-Orthodox bias, or at least a misunderstanding of the role of the Russians in Alaska Native history, that had characterized much of the American writing from the works of Bancroft to those of modern-day historians (e.g., Hinckley 1972,1982)." While in the past at least some of this bias was inspired by anti-Orthodox sentiments shared by many Protestant missionaries in Alaska as well as by American nationalism, more recent authors are more open-minded but simply lack the necessary background to be able to use Russian documents, most of them still untranslated.12 A group of scholars engaged in a similar effort to correct this distorted picture includes anthropologists (Black 1977, 1980, 1984; Mousalimas 1990, 1995), historians (Smith 1980, 1990; Znamenski 1996), linguists (R. Dauenhauer 1979, 1982), and church historians (Afonsky 1977, 1994; Oleksa 1992). Like these scholars, I am arguing here that Russian Orthodoxy represented a kind of Christianity that was very different from the other denominations operating in Alaska, and that a good xxvii

INTRO[)UCTION

grasp of Orthodox theology as well as missionary theory and practice, plus a working knowledge of Russian, are the necessary prerequisites for any serious study of the Russian Church's role in the lives of Native Alaskans (see my Translator's Introduction to Kamenskii 1985).13 I part company with some of the abovementioned students of Russian Orthodoxy in Alaska when they begin to idealize its history. They do this by using a handful of enlightened missionaries (particularly Fr. Ivan Veniaminov) as typical examples of the entire body of Russian clergy who labored in Alaska, overstating the benign nature of Orthodox conversion methods, exaggerating the mission's success by using the Aleut and the Alutiiq cases as typical, and underestimating the extent to which Orthodoxy was reinterpreted and reshaped by the indigenous peoples themselves. I sense a pro-Orthodox bias emerging in the major writings on the history of this mission in Alaska and hope that my own study, which describes both successes and failures of its work among the Tlingit, will counterbalance this new distortion of the historical record (cf. Znamenski 1996).'4

The fact that several of these scholars belong to the Orthodox Church, while I do not, helps explain my greater ability to maintain scholarly objectivity in this research. While I try to maintain a sympathetic or at least an empathetic attitude toward the Russian missionaries, my primary interest is in the Tlingit side of this cross-cultural encounter. Consequently, I have consistently pointed out antiTlingit prejudices of a significant number of Russian clergymen, which were often almost as strong as that of their Protestant rivals. In fact, one of the main arguments of this book is that Orthodoxy was more successful among the northern Tlingit than Presbyterianism, not so much because of its missionaries' enlightened pro-Native attitudes as to the nature of the political situation in Alaska in the late nineteenth century and to Orthodoxy's greater susceptibility to Tlingit reinterpretation and "indigenization." Despite this caveat, the reader might detect a certain pro-Orthodox sympathy in my writing. In a way, this is inevitable. Like most anthropologists, I tend to sympathize with the people whose culture I am documenting. In this case, "my people" are the traditionalist elders of several northern Tlingit communities, most of whom are (or were at some point in the past) Orthodox. I admit that I know more about them than about those Tlingit who have been members of the Presbyterian or the Salvation Army churches, even though I have talked to some of the latter as well. I do not, however, wish to suggest that those Protestant Tlingit who chose the path of greater assimilation and accommodation with the Euro-American society somehow betrayed their people. On the contrary, their remarkable accomplishments in the sphere of Native and territorial politics, xxviii

INTRODUCTION

including their key role in the creation of the Alaska Native Brotherhood and Sisterhood, deserve great praise and respect. In this day and age, when traditional Tlingit culture, and especially the Tlingit language, are rapidly declining, those Tlingit men and women who were able to combine staunch adherence to "the old customs" with Christian devotion and a rather active involvement in many of the new economic and social activities of the post-l867 era tend to be admired and looked up to as "role models" by many modern-day Tlingit, particularly those involved in the preservation of the native language, traditional social organization and ceremonialism. Typical members of this group are Nora Marks Dauenhauer and her (non-Tlingit) husband, Richard Dauenhauer, who have been at the forefront of recording, transcribing, translating, and publishing Tlingit oral traditions for over twenty-five years (see Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1981, 1987, 1990b). Their collection of biographies of a large group of Tlingit elders (1994) betrays the same bias, even though it is not limited to the lives of Orthodox men and women. In addition to a certain pro-Orthodox bias, my book has a geographical one as well. Since much of my research has been done in Sitka and because this community has always been the center of Tlingit Orthodoxy and, until the early 1900s, the main arena of Tlingit-White interaction, a large portion of my narrative deals with the Tlingit of the Sheet'kri Kwaan ("people of the Sitka area"). Because social and ideological differences between the Orthodox and the Presbyterian Tlingit have been particularly sharp in Sitka, I might have overemphasized them a bit. Nevertheless, in order to correct this bias, I have also utilized a great deal of archival and ethnographic field data from Killisnoo/Angoon (Xutsnoowu Kwaan) as well as some from Juneau and Hoonah. I do believe, however, that a detailed study of the history of the Presbyterian'5 and Salvation Army churches among the Tlingit would be an excellent complement to my own work. A parallel study of the religious history of the southern Tlingit, who have been barely touched by the Orthodox proselytizing and who seem to have chosen a more assimilationist path of survival than their northern cousins, needs to be written as well. Despite these biases, I am convinced that the conclusions I arrive at are valid for the general Tlingit cultural history as well as for Northwest Coast and Native Alaskan ones. One of the main arguments developed here is that of all the Christian denominations encountered by the Tlingit, Orthodoxy has been the most susceptible to Native reinterpretation and that over the years its "Tlingitized" version has become central to the indigenous culture of southeastern Alaska. Thus, instead of being a hegemonic ideology, internalized by the Tlingit, which contributed to greater Euro-American colonial domination over them (cf. Devens 1992; XXIX

INTRODUCTION

Furniss 1995), Orthodoxy became a set of beliefs and ritual practices that assisted many of the Tlingit in coping with their changing sociopolitical and intellectual environment, as well as an institution that helped them maintain their "respectability" in the eyes of the Americans yet also enabled them to preserve key aspects of the traditional sociocultural order (particularly death-related beliefs and rituals). My study also represents an argument that an ethnography of a modern-day Native Alaskan or Northwest Coast community must include a discussion of the local forms of Christianity, with particular attention being paid to the local Christian institutions and metaphors. Although the core of this book is the discussion of the era between the late 1870S and the late 19lOS, it encompasses the entire two-hundred-year history of Tlingit-Orthodox interaction. In a sense, this is a rather detailed general anthropological history (historical ethnography or ethnohistory) of the Tlingit, particularly the northern ones, from the time of their initial contact with the Europeans to the present. While by no means comprehensive, it is the first of its kind in Tlingit studies and, to a large extent, Northwest Coast studies as well. The reason I felt compelled to begin the narrative and the analysis in the 1790S is that post-l867 Tlingit-Orthodox and Tlingit-American relations cannot be properly understood without a good grasp of the interaction between the Natives of southeastern Alaska and the Russian-American Company as well as the Orthodox mission. My decision to end the study in the mid-1990S, rather than the late191OS, has a lot to do with my argument that Orthodoxy's survival in southeastern Alaska in the post-1917 era was insured, to a large extent, by its earlier "indigenization." In addition, by including the discussion of the recent history of Tlingit Orthodoxy I was able to incorporate a great deal of my own field data into the narrative. It is this data, as well as information from the Orthodox Church archives, that, I hope, will be of particular interest to my Tlingit readers. For the sake of this audience I have tried to include as much biographical information as possible on the Native men and women active in the Orthodox Church, at the minimum providing their personal English, baptismal, and Tlingit names, their house group and clan affiliation, and their dates of birth and death. While this concern with Native biographies has added significantly to the book's length, it has also made it potentially more useful to the Tlingit community than the more traditional anthropological and ethnohistorical studies that speak mainly of kinship groups and communities rather than of individuals. Judging by the positive reception the Dauenhauers' (1994) new biography volume has been enjoying in the Native community, I imagine that many of my Tlingit readers will appreciate xxx

INTRODUCTION

seeing their relatives' names in my study and even learning something new about their lives. I would go even further and argue that, in this day and age, ethnohistories of American Indian peoples and communities must be written with the Native audience in mind.

XXXI

MEMORY

ETERNAL

~------------- .. ~-------------.-.---------.----------,

YUKON TERRITORY

Ory Say

CANADA

from Han Kllsteeyi, Our Culture: T!ingit rifL' Stories, ed. Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer, p. (Seattle: University of Washington Prcss, 1994).

1

Lingit Kusteeyi Tlingit Economy, Society, and Religion at the Time of Contact

To

explain the Tlingit reaction to the Russian and other Western newcomers, one needs to have some sense of the Tlingit culture of the contact era. While much of the detailed ethnographic data on this subject was collected in the latter part of the nineteenth century, there is enough evidence to support my argument that no substantial changes had occurred in the Tlingit social organization and ideology throughout the last century (Kan 1989a:21; see also Wike 1951; de Laguna 1983, 1990). This allows me to offer this reconstructive ethnography by combining information from the pre-1867 Russian descriptions of the Lingit kusteeyi (Khlebnikov [1817-32]1976,1985; Veniaminov [1840]1984) with that collected by later visitors to southeastern Alaska as well as professional ethnographers (Krause [1885] 1956; Kamenskii [1906] 1985; Emmons [1920-45] 1991; Swanton 1908; Olson 1967; de Laguna 1960, 1972). As far as the Tlingit ceremonial life, and particularly the memorial potlatch or koo.eex', are concerned, even my own ethnographic data (Kan 1989a) could be utilized here.!

Environment, Economy, and the Sociopolitical Order The land of the Tlingit people (Lingit aani) occupies an area, known today as the Alaska Panhandle, between the Icy Bay in the north to Portland Inlet (see map). The earliest signs of human habitation in this region date back to about lO,OOO B.p.2 By 5,000 B.P. the development of recognized Northwest Coast cultural traditions begins, and by about 500 B.P. the classic Tlingit material culture is in place, characterized by a variety of tools similar to those of the contact year. Tlingit oral traditions emphasize the migration of the ancestors of the nineteenth-century clans from the interior of Alaska and British Columbia onto the coast some time (several centuries?) prior to the European arrival (de Laguna 1990:203).

3

ECONOMY, SOCIETY, AND RELIGION AT THE TIME OF CONTACT

Estimates of the early-nineteenth-century Tlingit population are far from accurate and vary from somewhere between 5,000 and 10,000. The climate of the Lingit aani is relatively mild. The rugged coast is fringed with numerous islands, and almost everywhere mountains rise sharply from the water's edge. There is heavy rainfall throughout the year and particularly during the winter. This dense forest and rugged terrain made land travel quite difficult, but the water provided easy communication. The sea and the rivers were the main sources of food for the Tlingit, with salmon and other species of fish being the main staple. In addition, seaweed, shellfish, berries, and other edible plants were gathered, and various sea and land mammals hunted. The annual subsistence cycle was roughly divided into the summer and winter phases. The former began in April when herring spawn was gathered. Throughout the summer and early fall the Tlingit devoted themselves to catching and curing salmon, hunting sea mammals, and picking berries. The summer months were also the time for trading expeditions to the interior as well as up and down the coast. Wars and slave raids, made on distant Tlingit tribes or other coastal peoples to the north and especially the south, also occurred during the summer. After a relatively short fall hunting season, most families settled in their winter villages. November and December, with the winter supplies in, were devoted to ritual activities, centered on the big koo.eex', as well as to the making of various practical and ceremonial artifacts. As a people the Tlingit shared a common language and cultural heritage and a self-designation, "Lingit" (translated as both "Tlingit" and "person"). The eighteen to twenty local groups constituting the Tlingit nation were not political units but have often been called "tribes" for convenience. The Tlingit refer to them as kwaan (sing.), "inhabitants of such-and-such a place," for example, Sheet'ka kwaan, "the inhabitants of Sitka," or "the people of Sitka." The kwaans were distinguished from each other by subdialectical and minor cultural differences; in other words, they were "local communities made up of representatives of several clans, united by propinquity, intermarriage, and love for their common homeland" (de Laguna 1990:203). In each kwaan there was at least one main village, occupied in the winter but usually deserted by most families in the summer when they scattered to their fishing and hunting camps. New settlements might be established within the kwaan's territory, if an immigrant group was allowed to settle there or if an old village was being abandoned as a result of warfare, disputes, or disease. Villages were usually located on a sheltered bay from which there was a view of the approaches. A nice sandy beach for landing canoes and convenient access to salmon streams, hunting areas, berry patches, fresh water, timber, and other 4

ECONOMY, SOCIETY, AND RELIGION AT THE TIME OF CONTACT

special resources were also important. By the end of the eighteenth century these villages or towns (aan) consisted of a row of large houses facing the water. The basic unit of Tlingit society was the exogamous, matrilineal descent group, the clan (naa). It owned territory, which included rights to various natural resources, ownership of which meant that clan members were the first ones to enjoy the first products of the season, frequently shared at a feast. If these resources were abundant, the area where they were located was then "opened" to other kinship groups. In fact, under normal circumstances, once the season was open, any person could hunt, fish, pick berries, and collect shellfish anywhere, as long as he or she appealed to the leaders of the owning clan} Many clans were restricted to a single tribe or village. However, some of the most important and largest clans were represented in several kwaans. Despite strong clan solidarity, such subclans were rather independent of each other and were the de facto property-holding and political units. De Laguna (1983:72) suggests that some sixty to seventy clans existed at the time of the European arrival; this number, however, tended to fluctuate, as independent clans developed out of some subclans, while other clans died out. Most clans or subclans were divided into several matrilineages identified with a house group and, hence, called "houses" (sing. hit) by the Tlingit. The house was the smallest unit of society, possessing its own head (hit s'aati, "owner" or "master of the house"), territory within or subordinate to the larger plots owned by the clan as a whole, heraldic crests in addition to, or as variants of, the crest of its clan, personal names and ceremonial prerogatives (at.oow), and history. It was often by establishing a house in a new kwaan that the clan to which this house belonged acquired a place in that kwaan. Some lineages were probably remnants of once-important clans that had joined stronger clan groups for protection or had been incorporated into them. Others must have been formed by subdivisions of a clan, just as a house might grow and develop offshoots, referred to as "daughter houses." Some lineages or house groups became so large and powerful that they spread from one kwaan to another, effectively becoming clans, like the famous Kaagwaantaan, a powerful clan among the North and Gulf Coast Tlingit which figured prominently in Russian-Tlingit relations (de Laguna 1990:213). Because of the prevalence of virilocal postmarital residence, the women and most of the children living in the house tended not to belong to the matrilineage that owned it. Avunculocal residence for at least some of the boys after the age of eight to ten ensured the continuity the house ownership and the sacred lore owned by the matrilineage. Residents of the house were the basic unit of production and consumption, although individual and family subsistence activities were also undertaken. 5

ECONOMY, SOCIETY, AND RELIGION AT THE TIME OF CONTACT

The entire Tlingit nation was also divided into two matrilineal exogamous moieties known as Ravens and Eagles (Wolves). They had no leaders and owned no property but were central to the Tlingit world view and social life, because they regulated marriage and exchange of ritual services at life crises, death being the most important one. The relationship between clan relatives (consanguines) was juxtaposed to that between "opposites" (affines), where balanced, rather than generalized, reciprocity characterized the exchange of gifts and services. No immediate return was expected from one's matrikin, although a person who only received but gave nothing back was not respected. One of the key terms used to characterize the relationship between matrilineal relatives was "love" (kusa;s/m), and the most common idiom to describe this sentiment was the mother's affectionate care for and nourishment of her child. Any good deed performed by a clan or a lineage member reflected favorably on his or her entire group; any shameful act an individual performed was said to "blacken the face" of that group. Taken as a whole, the main material and immaterial attributes of the individual's social persona were believed to be derived from and shared with his or her matrikin and constituted his or her clan's shagoon or shuka, best translated as "origin/destiny," established in the past by its matrilineal ancestors and continuing to order its members' lives, generation after generation (de Laguna 1972:813-14; Kan 1989a:68-69; Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1994:19-20).4 The clan's totemic animal(s), the crest( s) representing them, as well as all of the other representations and manifestations of these crests (e.g., dances, songs, ceremonial clothing, lands owned by the clan, etc.) collectively constituted its shagoon. Because of the constant recycling of the names and spirits (reincarnation) as well as the material and non -material possessions (at.oow) of the clan's deceased members by their descendants, the living and the dead matrikin were intimately linked to each other; in theory, clans were immortal, their membership consisting of all of their deceased as well as the living (and the yet unborn) members. The sacredness of the crest was illustrated by its extremely reverential treatment by its owners. When a crestbearing object deteriorated beyond repair, its name was usually transfered to a new object depicting the same crest. Thus the crest, like the clan, remained immortal, surviving its temporary representations, just as a human being's essential spiritual attributes survived the body after death. Clan crests were depicted or almost "carved into" the surface of its members' bodies, for example, tattooed on their hands and painted on their faces) Similarly, an individual's birth names (which implied an ancestor's reincarnation) and especially the "heavy" ceremonial names or titles, another key attribute

6

ECONOMY, SOCIETY, AND RELIGION AT THE TIME OF CONTACT

of his or her social person, were derived from a stock owned by the matrilineal group. Although new birth and ceremonial names were periodically coined, the most valuable ones were those inherited from ancestors. Since each matrilineal group owned a limited stock of such names and recycled them every few generations, one could say that the names themselves (esp. the ceremonial/potlatch titles) were its true members. As long as there were appropriate individuals to give these names to, the matrilineal group remained alive and, if there were not enough people to carry them, members of related houses and clans were adopted and given the names. Each "big" or "heavy" name had its own value based on the previous owner's prestige and status and especially on the number and scale of potlatches he or she had been actively engaged in (see below). The new owner inherited the name's value but could raise or lower it, depending on his or her conduct. Marriage was one of the central institutions of the Tlingit social order and a powerful mechanism for establishing and perpetuating cooperation and reciprocity between matrilineal groups belonging to the opposite moieties. The preferred form of marriage was with the members of one's father's clan or house. Marriage of a man with his real or classificatory father's sister or of a woman with her real or classificatory father's brother was the preferred union, insuring that the spouses were of equal rank. Ideally, the two houses from the opposite moieties were continually linked through marriage. However, marriage ties with several clans were often established to create politically advantageous alliances with several groups in different villages and even kwaans. Members of the elite occasionally married aristocrats from neighboring nonTlingit nations if such a marriage could bring significant political, economic, or social gains. High-ranking men often had more than one wife. On the death of his wife, a man was entitled to replace her with her younger sister or other close female relative. A widow was expected to marry her husband's brother or maternal nephew, although there were only a few women of high rank who had several husbands simultaneously. Divorce did occur sometimes, although the two lineages and clans exerted pressure on a couple to remain together. The father-child link and the link through marriage were considered symbolically the same or equivalent, even when in reality they were not; they furnished the basic pattern upon which all inter-moiety relationships were built. While membership in a moiety, clan, and house was central to the person's identity, he or she was also proud of being referred to, informally and especially on ceremonial occasions, as the "child of such-and-such a clan." Generally speaking, kinship in this society did serve as the idiom of social relations. This notion was so ,

7

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central to Tlingit culture that immigrant Native American groups were transformed, regardless of their internal structure, into Tlingit -style clans, while trading partners were given quasi-kinship status mirrored on clan lines. A strict division of labor along gender lines existed, with the men being engaged in fishing and hunting and the women in gathering berries and "beach food" as well as processing fish, meat, skins, etc. 6 It was probably the crucial tasks of cutting, drying, smoking, and bailing the salmon that gave the women (and especially the head women in the households) control over this staple food and, as a result of that, their high status (de Laguna 1990:210). A strong fear of offending and scaring away fish and game prevented women, especially menstruants and parturients, from handling men's fishing and hunting gear and approaching fish streams. The power possessed by the menstruating young woman, particularly during her first menses, was seen as both very dangerous to men, animals, and the entire universe and life-giving. This explains the elaborate nature of the first puberty confinement, marked by various taboos and ritual exercises aimed at increasing the girl's physical strength, purity, and knowledge as well as with a major feast at the time of its completion. Similar confinement, but on a smaller scale, occurred during the woman's subsequent menstrual periods and childbirth. While the power and influence of the Tlingit women in social life were clearly related to matrilineal descent, virilocal residence resulted in the married woman's being a stranger in her husband's house. Consequently, the woman was simultaneously highly valued as a major link between two matrilineal groups (hers and her husband's) and suspected of being more loyal to the former than the latter.7 This ambiguity of the woman's status is further illustrated by a discrepancy between a somewhat subordinate role of women in public and especially ceremoniallife (Js.oo.eex' being the prime example) and a much greater role played by them in the more informal daily economic and domestic political activities. 8 Contact-era Tlingit women, according to European observers, had a strong influence on their husbands, especially in matters of trade (e.g., Vancouver 1801, vol. 4:254-55). Ultimately, however, it was rank rather than gender that served as the main mode of social differentiation in Tlingit society, with women strongly identifying with their families of birth and marriage and the rank of those families and having a much higher status than men of lower rank (see Kan 1989a:156-62, 1996).

Tlingit society was ranked, but there were no formal grades-ranking was inexact and subject to dispute and reevaluation. The heads of houses and other high-ranking members of these matrilineal groups as well as their immediate matrikin constituted the aristocracy or nobility (sing. aanJs.aawu or aanyadi; pI. 8

ECONOMY, SOCIETY, AND RELIGION AT THE TIME OF CONTACT

aanyatx'i). Its members' status was defined by aristocratic birth, inherited and acquired wealth, personal accomplishments, ritual knowledge, and character, with age and accumulated wisdom adding to their prestige. The "commoners" were simply the aristocrats' junior matrikin. On the bottom of this rather fluid social hierarchy was a small group of illegitimate children, outcasts abandoned by their kin, and the so-called "dried-fish slaves" who depended on the charity of others. Real slaves, captured or bought from distant Tlingit kwaans and more often from coastal nations to the north and the south, were located completely outside the social universe, not being granted full personhood. House groups within the clan and clans within the moiety and the kwaan, as well as between moieties, were also ranked, but on no exact scale. High-ranking clans had large membership, owned more crests and wealth, and were aggressive and successful in war, trade, and ceremonial activities. Access to and knowledge of the matrilineal group's shagoon was unequally distributed among its members. Older persons had more knowledge of and were more closely identified with it. In certain important ceremonial contexts, men had greater access to their group's at.oow, even though the women's knowledge of the subject was probably equal to if not superior to theirs. Subsistence activities, as well as trade, warfare, informal redistribution of food to poor matrikin, and the more significant formal redistribution of surplus food and wealth (and even slaves) in the koo.eex' were supervised by the (usually) male heads of matrilineal groups, who also acted as guardians and trustees of their material and spiritual property. Most aristocrats, including heads of matrilineal groups, seem to have done at least some hunting and fishing themselves but also received part of their kinsmen's catch. Few important decisions were made unilaterally by the heads of the matrilineal groups; instead, they consulted the council of mostly older aristocrats which existed at the house as well as the clan level. All of the main activities supervised by the heads of matrilineal groups resulted in the accumulation of surplus food, furs, and exotic trade items in the hands of the aristocracy, whose duty it was to use most of that wealth to sponsor smaller feasts for their own matrikin and larger ones (like the koo.eex') involving the participation of the opposite moiety. Every free individual, male and female, was expected to observe a series of rules of physical and moral purity, to harden the body through exercises and rubbing, and to purify its inside by periodic fasting and purgation. Meditation and other physical and mental means of strengthening one's mind (inner self) were also essential for the development of a true Tlingit (=real person). Every individual whose body had been properly purified and who had the necessary knowledge of his or her matrilineal group's shagoon was entitled to wear and 9

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depict some aspect of that shagoon on ritual occasions by using body decorations, clothing, dance, song, etc. (Kan 1989a:SS-73). The aristocrats' bodies were believed to be superior (more pure, "harder" and "heavier") to those of their lower-ranking matrikin.9 This process of acquiring superior physical and mental attributes began in childhood, with aristocratic youngsters being subjected to much more rigorous training and ordeals. Bodies of aristocratic children were marked from birth-since only high-ranking parents could afford to sponsor special feasts at which their children's ears were pierced, hands tattooed with crest designs, etc. From early childhood on, the children of the aristocracy were ritually brought into physical contact with the wealth and the at.oow belonging to their house or clan. lO The nobility's everyday clothing was made of more valuable ("heavier") materials than that of the commoners. The aristocrats also painted their faces with clan designs more regularly and had more opportunities than everyone else to don their clan's crest-decorated regalia. Finally, the aristocrats were expected to observe stricter rules of morality and etiquette-to walk, eat, or speak with greater dignity and authority. They had to watch their own and their close matrilineal relatives' behavior more closely and pay a higher price for any shameful conduct they might commit by sponsoring a feast to cover up the shame with wealth and "wipe" the bad words off the mouths of their potential critics in their own and especially the opposite moiety. The key concept that seems to have been behind this entire theory of personhood and morality, especially its aristocratic version, was that of respect-a term that has often been used by the Tlingit in their comments on human interaction in secular and ceremonial contexts. It is used to describe proper, decorous treatment of others, which calls for respectful behavior in return. "Respectful" behavior included such basic forms of proper conduct as ritual avoidance between certain categories of relatives, generous gift-giving and reciprocation of gifts, honoring and praising one's guests while acting modestly as a host, and other types of formalized conduct vis-a-vis others. In addition, a person of high rank had to have great self-respect, which meant behaving in accordance with his or her status and rank. In other words, the Tlingit insisted on being treated in accordance with their own claimed status and tried to treat others accordingly. They extended this model of social interaction to non-Tlingit persons and were very unhappy when the latter appeared to be unfamiliar with the Tlingit modes of respectful treatment or unwilling to follow their principles. Through peace ceremonies and gift exchanges, former enemies (i.e., persons and groups who had acted disrespectfully toward a person and his or her group)

10

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were transformed into friends and allies or brought back into the social world of equal persons. Despite the nobility's great prestige, there existed a series of checks on its striving for greater power and control over the rest of society. Thus strong matrilineal ties and an emphasis on personal independence, an unwillingness of the free individuals to become completely dominated by their seniors, prevented the aanyatx'i from developing into a separate class and neglecting the interests of their junior kin. In fact they relied on the latter's labor as well as material and social support in the ritual context. An aristocrat who cared only for his wellbeing, neglecting his matrikin, was criticized, and his kin might refuse to accompany him on a war raid or a trading expedition. In an extreme situation, some of his disgruntled relatives could desert him and follow his brother or maternal nephew and establish a new offshoot house. While many persons were not wealthy and would not qualify as aanytLtx'i, they tended to see themselves as the aristocrats' junior matrikin rather than as commoners. In fact, there was a fair amount of mobility in the middle range between those on the very top and those on the bottom of the house group and clan hierarchy. As nonpersons or antipersons, slaves were located completely outside the Tlingit social universe. While they constituted valuable property, their main role, in my opinion, was not in the subsistence economy but in the prestige system of feasting and gift giving." As useful helpers and valuable prestige property, slaves tended to be treated fairly well. However, as their owner's absolute property, they could be sacrificed on any major ceremonial occasions, and especially upon his death. Bodies of slaves were not cremated but thrown in the water to be carried away by the tide (i.e., treated like animals). However, during the koo.eex' and on other ceremonial occasions slaves could also be freed and sent away (i.e., symbolically killed) (Kan 1989a:122-34). The contact -era Tlingit social order was based on a set of norms, values, and organizing principles that were not fully compatible with each other; contradictions between them configured the lived-in world of the Tlingit people. One of the major contradictions was between the principles of hierarchy and equality (ibid.:26-27). Hierarchy-this key organizing principle of the social orderresulted from an unequal distribution of status and power within the matrilineal group, which must have clashed periodically with the ideology of the unity and solidarity of matrikin. Predicated upon this contradiction was jealousy and the resulting conflicts between matrilineal relatives, often the closest ones (e.g., brothers). The problem here was that such conflicts, unless they were minor and settled informally, could not be resolved in any culturally sanctioned ("respect-

11

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ful") way, except by expelling the disputants from the group, which usually meant social death. Such action would be the last resort; more often intralineage and intraclan conflicts smoldered for long periods of time without resolution. This explains why witchcraft accusations were often leveled against a victim's close matrikin. While the top aristocrats' junior kin might be jealous of their power and prestige and try to reach their level in the social hierarchy, those on the very bottom or outside of the social order had no hope of advancing very far, and thus there was also probably significant resentment of the powerful among the powerless. Despite the glorious prospect of joining their masters' spirit in the "village of the dead," slaves were unlikely to look forward to being killed at their owner's funerals and cremated on the same pyre (to allow their souls to travel together), just as they were unlikely to appreciate being crushed by the heavy timbers of a newly built winter house-their lives adding value to their owners' at.6ow. Another strategy for dealing with conflicts within the matrilineal group was to blame members of the opposite moiety. As I have shown, intermoiety disputes were common, with an emphasis on upholding the dignity of one's kinship group encouraging demands of restitution for even minor injuries caused by outsiders. If an exchange of gifts and mutual feasting could not solve a problem, disputants resorted to violence which would persist until a formalized peace ceremony (with an equalization oflosses on both sides) was agreed upon. At the same time, relationships by blood and marriage complemented each other or, as the Tlingit sometimes put it, "balanced each other out," with the former being often more tense and constrained by the senior matrikin's control over the juniors, in contrast to the latter which tended to be more relaxed. Thus, despite the dominant cultural ideology, lineage, clan, and moiety mates had a lot more reasons to have conflicts with each other than affines did, from jealousy over each other's spouses to disputes over crests. Related to the above-mentioned contradiction was a serious tension between the values of cooperation and conformity of the individual to the group, on the one hand, and personal autonomy and ambitiousness, on the other. One could phrase this tension as ascription imposing limitations on achievement, that is, preventing the individual from rising too far above the rank of his or her parents. While the value of "love" and "respect" between matrikin discouraged aggressive self-aggrandizement and egotism (sometimes attributed to Northwest Coast societies), preoccupation with individual rank and prestige stimulated it. Ideally, a person's success, manifested in increased status and rank, benefited his or her matrilineal group, raising its own position vis-a.-vis other groups in both moieties. There was a real danger, however, of an upwardly mobile individual 12

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neglecting his or her kinship obligations, acting selfishly, or identifying more closely with aristocratic persons in other clans than with his or her own matrikin. As in other societies, it was at the level of individual social action that violations of fundamental cultural values and norms did occur. However, no evidence exists of a serious challenge posed by such violations to the basic principles and ideological structure of the Lingit kusteeyi until long after the arrival of the first Europeans. Even the more ambitious individuals who took advantage of the opportunities presented by the European fur trade seemed to have tried to act within the parameters of this ideological and sociopolitical system and were motivated by the same values as their more senior or more conservative relatives. At the same time, with the arrival of the Europeans, and especially the establishment of permanent Russian settlements in southeastern Alaska, there appeared new opportunities for some of the Tlingit to assume new social roles and try to get out of the constraints of the sociocultural order; such opportunities increased dramatically with the establishment of American rule.

Religious Thought and Ritual Action The same type of respectful treatment that human beings were expected to extend to each other was also supposed to be present in their relationship with animals, plants, and other nonhuman inhabitants of the universe, including bodies of water and mountains. This respect was manifested in offerings of food and gifts as well as kind and apologetic words, and in refraining from insulting these beings. Humans and animals were seen as being particularly close to each other, since in the ancient "myth time" animals could easily become human and vice versa and since animals were believed to have retained their ability to understand human speech. Animals and fish had to be treated with special deference, since offended creatures could decide not to give themselves up to the humans any more. Thus hunters were supposed to purify their bodies, perform various private "magical" acts prior to going out, thank the creatures they caught in songs and speeches, and treat animal remains in a ritually prescribed ("respectful") manner. Several ethnographers point out that the nineteenth-century Tlingit did not make a distinction between what westerners call "natural" and "supernatural."12 Instead, they differentiated sharply between "ordinary and extraordinary, the commonplace and the mysterious, or between the safe and what we would call supernaturally dangerous" (de Laguna 1972:811). As Swanton (1908:452) stated, "There is said to have been a spirit in every trail on which one traveled, and one around every fire; one was connected with everything one did. So in olden times 13

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people were afraid of employing trifling words because they thought that everything was full of eyes looking at them and ears listening to what they said." In addition, the Tlingit language makes no distinction between animate and inanimate. As de Laguna (1972:810) notes, all the "natural elements" and features (probably of the world itself) were at least vaguely conceived as animate, or inhabited by souls (kwaani), or controlled by spirits (sing. yeik). The same was true of mountains, glaciers, rocks, bodies of water, plants, animals, manufactured objects, and even some human activities and qualities (gambling, strength, etc.) (cf. Swanton 1908:451). Disrespectful conduct toward these nonhuman persons and other sacrilegious actions were believed to cause ligaas ("bad luck"). Human beings who avoided disrespectful acts and followed the rules of personal purity were rewarded with la;"feitl, "good fortune," "luck," manifested in extraordinarily successful fishing and hunting expeditions, accumulation of great amounts of wealth, good health, etc. The nonhuman persons of the world were seen as reciprocating with la;"feitl in return for respectful treatment by human beings. Many adult men and women had their own "magical" luck-bringing substance and objects (plants, rocks, etc.), often kept hidden in a box or a bundle. Such powerful objects (themselves the gifts of the nonhuman spirits) as well as the special physical and spiritual exercises and purification rites were referred to as hei;"fwaa ("good luck medicine," "magic"). Thus the moral order of the universe was maintained not by a single and omnipotent god, spirit, or deity but by a set of rules for proper thinking, speaking, and behaving vis-a.-vis its nonhuman inhabitants, from the especially powerful spirits (e.g., the wealth-bringing sea monster Gunaakadeit) and to the smallest creatures. In addition, each individual seems to have had a personal guardian or tutelary spirit residing right above the head and threatening to depart from unclean or immoral persons. This concept of a;"f kinaa yeigi ("my spirit above") was most likely an aboriginal one, although undoubtedly augmented in the postcontact era by the Russian Orthodox concept of the guardian angel. It was first reported by Veniaminov in the late 1830S, at the time when Christian ideas were beginning to influence Tlingit religion (see chapter 4). According to him (1984:398), this du kinaa yeigi ("his spirit above") always hovered above the person's head, but would leave or kill a crooked one. Emmons's (1991:368) data, collected about fifty years after V eniaminov' s, echoed the Russian missionary's statement; in his words, the "up above spirit tries to protect and guide its ward aright. But the spirit may desert its charge if offended, and it can be killed through great wrongdoing, which would likewise react upon its mortal charge." Emmons (ibid.:289) also suggested that this was the only spirit the Tlingit actually prayed to, addressing it in time of danger with the following prayer, "Watch 14

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over me carefully, my spirit above.» De Laguna's ethnography indicates that, after slaying a game animal, a hunter would explain his action and apologize directly to his "spirit above» as well as to the slain animal (1972:813). Her consultants as well as my own used the term kinaa yeigi with the plural haa as well. This might imply a guardian protector of a house, clan, or maybe even the entire Tlingit people. In this century this concept has often been compared to the Christian God. We do not know for certain whether it is pre-Christian or not, but it is possible that at least a vaguely defined concept of a spirit-protector of individual kinship groups existed prior to contact. The question of the presence of other, more monotheistic concepts in the preChristian Tlingit religious worldview is more complex. While neither the pre-1867 Russian sources nor Emmons mention the concept of "my savior» to whom the Tlingit appealed for help in cases of extreme life-threatening danger, de Laguna's as well as my own elderly consultants insisted that such a notion did exist and was not a product of Christian proselytizing. Some of them (e.g., de Laguna 1972:813) seem to suggest that the "spirit above» (kinaa yeigi) was similar to a~ shageinyaa and could be addressed to ask for help as "my savior.» One man told de Laguna (1972:813) that the latter was "the same as haa kinaa yeigi-but just a little bit different. Shageinyaa is more like God.» In modern oratory it is used to refer to a personal as well as a group guardian spirit; some see it as being very similar to kaa kinaa yeigi (and being also located right above one's head) (cf. Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1990b:126). My own elderly teachers insisted that, unlike the God of the Christians, the "my» or "our» shageinyaa was addressed very rarely-only in times of extreme danger-and in a very personal, quiet, rather than collective, prayer. This notion fits in with the general picture of much of the pre-Christian Tlingit religion being individually practiced and individual-oriented. Some Tlingit compared the word shageinyaa with shagoon, which we have already encountered as the term for the collective origin and destiny or fate (de Laguna 1972:813; Kan 1979-95) of an individual and his or her matrilineal group. They also explained shagoon as a destiny of a person or a group, established by the group's totemic ancestors in the past and extending into the future. It is unknowable to lay people and usually unchangeable, at least in its main parameters. "It is the way things are,» as they sometimes phrased it. It is in this latter meaning that shagoon comes closer to the notion of a moral order established and/or maintained by a Spirit or Deity (cf. de Laguna 1972:813). The preferred term in this case is "haa shagoon»-"our heritage and destiny,» "our moral order.» This leap from defining shagoon as a kinship group's sacred heritagewhich linked the animal and the human worlds through the crest as well as the world of the dead and the living through their joint membership in the immortal 15

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clan-could have been made by the Tlingit before the European arrival or in conversations with the first Europeans when the two sides tried to explain their own beliefs to each other. '3 Olson (1967:110) reports that prayers asking a2f shagoon or a2f shageinyaa for help were spoken with the face upturned. Once again, this might have been a Christian influence, but if the kinaa yeigi was above one's head, this posture in prayer would make sense. Finally, none of the early European observers found any evidence of collective worship of any Spirit or Deity, including Yeil, the mythical Creator-Transformer (see chapter 4). My own tentative conclusion is that there may have been only a potential in the precontact Tlingit spiritual culture for a religion focused on a single spirit or divine being and that the Raven was not such a being, but that a concept of a sacred origin/destiny/moral order did exist and could, in some contexts, be imbued with spiritual power. Being sharply divided into matrilineal groups and spatially separated from each other by natural barriers, the Tlingit did not have a need for collective worship or a hierarchized and centralized pantheon of spirits. Instead, much of their religion, like that of their Athapascan "cousins" in the interior, was focused on acquiring and maintaining power for and by the individual (cf. McClellan 1975:529). Whenever an individual felt helpless to maintain his or her health and well-being through personal power, he or she could either utter a private prayer to the personal kinaa yeigi, appeal for help to the impersonal shagoon of his or her matrilineal group, or turn to the only full-time religious practitioner-the powerful shaman (i2ft'), the Christian missionaries' archrival. From Veniaminov to the late nineteenth-century observers of Lingit /susteeyi, everyone stressed the centrality of the shaman to their entire sociocultural order. In fact, Veniaminov (1984:400) defined their religion as a "shamanistic one" and indicated that "among the Tlingit, the faith and belief in the sayings of the shamans is very strong. Whatever the shamans tell them is accepted as truth" (cf. Swanton 1908:463; de Laguna 1972:670).14 The shaman was the only intermediary between the "lay" Tlingit and the superhuman or other-than-human forces and spirits of the world. The shaman's special understanding of human psychology and socio-psychological dynamics in his or her community and spiritual power made the invisible world of spirits at least partially visible and accessible to ordinary people. Thus the i2ft' helped bridge disparate spatial and temporal domains and gave human beings at least some sense of security in the dangerous and uncertain world where any spirit could suddenly turn against them if offended or angered by their misconduct. The shaman (usually, but not exclusively, a male) cured the seriously ill, controlled or at least influenced the weather, brought success in war and in subsis16

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tence pursuits, foretold the future, helped recover lost persons and valuable objects, received news from distant colleagues, identified and fought with witches, protected the village from epidemics and other disasters, and demonstrated his powers in various awe-inspiring ways. In their role as prophets, shamans were expected to predict unusual and/or important future events, including the coming of powerful non-Tlingit visitors, friendly and hostile; thus, to this day there exist numerous stories about the shamans predicting the coming of the Europeans (Kan 1991a). The source of the shaman's power was his control over powerful spirits, called yeik (sing.), who served as his helpers. While not all of these spirits were intrinsically evil, though some might have been, all were powerful and ambiguous at best, and not generically benevolent (ibid.). They were either inherited from the shaman's predecessor or acquired by him through a ritual of purification and self-abnegation, a Northwest Coast version of the vision quest. Each yeik had a personal name, a special song, and associated regalia in the shaman's costume (bone amulets, rattles, and esp. masks, etc.). The spirits had the capacity to chose the person whose helpers they wished to become, and it was extremely dangerous to refuse such a call. The shaman had to lead a life of greater purity than a layman; while observing many of the same rules of proper conduct, he had to abstain completely from certain foods and maintain much stricter rules of sexual abstinence, etc. The personal appearance of the shaman differed from that of the ordinary people as well. His long hair, believed to be the seat of his power, was never cut. At death the bodies of shamans were treated differently from the rest of the populationnot cremated, but enclosed into a gravehouse where they were not supposed to decompose but rather to become a dried-up mummy. At least some of the spirithelpers of the deceased shaman were supposed to remain near the grave as its guardians. Lay people, especially those in such vulnerable states as pregnancy, were not supposed to approach the grave; if they happened to travel in its vicinity, they were expected to leave an offering of tobacco for the spirit(s) and ask them for protection, prosperity, and health. Like elsewhere in northern North America, the shaman dealt only with serious illnesses, which tended to.be attributed to either intrusions by foreign objects and evil spirits (sent by other shamans or witches) or to the soul's departure from the patient's body. During the seance-a powerful multimedia performance accompanied by his assistants' singing and drumming, during which the shaman performed amazing feats of movement, ventriloquism, etc.-he diagnosed the illness and then either tried to cure it or proclaimed it beyond cure. During this performance the {2ft' was believed to become possessed or inhabited 17

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by one or several of his yeigi, manifesting themselves in his changed behavior (e.g., imitating an animal), the sounds he made, and sometimes his falling into a deep trance, in which he appeared as if dead. In the latter case his own spirit was believed to have left his body to travel through time and space to bring back the patient's soul, news, lost treasures, etc. In the course of the seance, the shaman often revealed information about the laity's violation of various taboos or rules of "respectful" behavior. In fact, it was believed that the i;st's yeigi acted as his powerful eyes and ears in the community, reporting any serious violation of the moral order mentioned above. Once identified and apprehended, the guilty person had to confess and hope that this confession would help undo the misfortune, for example, bring back the fish that had stopped running or restore good weather. '5 For their services shamans requested substantial fees in animals skins (blankets in the postcontact era) and other goods, which had to be paid in advance since the spirits would not appear otherwise. Shamans were very sensitive to insult and particularly jealous of their professional rivals with whom they engaged in spiritual battles. The shamans themselves rarely attacked lay persons but acted as the fighters against their archenemy, the witch. Since their accusations were always taken seriously, the shamans had an opportunity to get rid of their enemies. Despite their power, shamans stood somewhat outside the hierarchical social order of the matrilineal group; rarely was the office of the lineage or clan head combined with that of an i:&t'. Both the high-ranking aanyadi and the i:&t' exercised social control through reiterating the basic principles of the moral order and then enforcing them. However, while the realms of their moral authority overlapped, the aristocrats tended to deal more with the sociopolitical (shagoon-related) issues, while the shamans dealt with the ultimate problems of evil, serious illness, and death. Although many shamans undoubtedly contributed to the physical and especially psychological well-being and social harmony in the community, the fact that they wielded tremendous spiritual and significant political power, and occasionally did abuse it, made the i:&t' a person to be feared (cf. Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1990b:123-24). Like shamanism, beliefs about the witch, called "nakws'aati" ("master of medicine"), "nukw s'aati," or "neek'w s'aatii" ("master of sickness" or "master of pain")16 were central to the pre-Christian Tlingit world view. As Swanton (1908:469) pointed out, this belief was so strong that "natural sickness or death was scarcely believed in." The witch, usually a male, was believed to derive his power from an evil spirit, which differed from the shaman's yeik but acted in a somewhat similar manner by possessing the witch and compelling him to do evil. Most accused witches claimed to have been victims themselves, having been 18

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bewitched by another witch. However, the bewitched accomplice of a "real" witch was seen as exhibiting some moral weakness that made him unable to resist it. A righteous as well as physically and morally pure person was described as "strong" or "solid," that is, impenetrable to the witch's spirit (de Laguna 1972:735). To harm a person, the witch would obtain the victim's bodily effluvia and make a doll which was placed in a rotting dog corpse or a grave house with cremated remains. As the remains deteriorated, so did the victim. The shaman usually identified a witch when a high-ranking person was very seriously ill and no other healing methods, conventional or shamanic, seemed to help. The accused witch would be tied up and tortured until he confessed and led the accusers to the location of the "doll," retrieved it, and purified it by plunging it into the sea. The witch could be killed by his embarrassed matrikin, or a !soo.rex' to wipe away the shame would be held by his matrikin. A certain stigma, however, remained with him for the rest of his life. The witch was the antisocial person par excellence who violated the most fundamental principles of the moral order-moiety exogamy (by committing incest), deference toward one's dead matrikin (by harming primarily his close matrilineal relatives), and respect for the dead (by visiting the cemetery to have sexual intercourse with ghosts and by putting a doll representing his victim into the grave). In other words, witches brought together the fundamental categories of the sociocultural order that were supposed to be kept separate. Hence the fear of being accused of witchcraft served as a powerful form of social control. Witches were supposed to harm their victims out of jealousy and, as I have already said, jealousy was most common among close matrilineal relatives competing for resources or the attention of a third person but having almost no culturally sanctioned means of resolving their conflicts. Witches, who were often low-ranking persons, orphans, and slaves, were expected to harm primarily the aristocracy. If a high-ranking individual was accused, he could settle the matter quietly by admitting the guilt without being tried or could use his power and influence to deny the entire accusation loudly and even fight back by demanding restitution for the insult. It is impossible to ascertain how many individuals actually practiced witchcraft, although my impression is that most of the accused were innocent. Of course, the shaman knew a lot about the interpersonal conflicts in his or neighboring community and had some idea who would make a logical witch, that is, an enemy of a seriously ill or dying person of power. Witchcraft beliefs and accusations served to explain the unexplainable-violations of the most fundamental and sacred principles of the moral order and the absence of love and respect between the categories of relatives that were expected to exhibit them in 19

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the greatest degree. They also helped explain why people suddenly became seriously ill and why no treatment would make them better, why children died, etc. The explanatory function of witchcraft should not obscure its use as an instrument of power and control of the weak by the strong, of those on the bottom of society by those on the top. These beliefs also gave the shamans a considerable amount of power to get rid of their enemies and explain their inability to make their patients better. Beliefs about witchcraft revealed the seriousness of the underlying strains and contradictions within the Tlingit sociocultural order, particularly the discrepancies between cultural ideology and social reality, and helped protect the former by "explaining away" the most blatant forms of deviant behavior. Not surprisingly, a rapid rise of mortality due to the epidemic diseases introduced by the early European visitors, as well as the ideological and sociopolitical conflicts and contradictions that were brought about by the "civilizing" actions of Protestant reformers and their secular supporters in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, seemed to have been accompanied by a dramatic increase in the accusation, seizure, and torture of witches (see chapter 5). While much of Tlingit religious life was individual-oriented and there was apparently no collective worship of powerful spirits or deities, death-related ritual activities were extremely elaborate and formed the core of the entire sociocultural order. It was in the funeral and especially the elaborate memorial ritual called "koo.eex'" (literally "invitation") that the abovementioned oppositions, conflicts, and contradictions of this order were played out as well as manipulated, so as to overcome or at least mask them. These rituals provided a rather sharp contrast with daily life, allowing for the largest concentration of people, dispersed during the spring and the summer or living in other communities, providing an arena for a stronger (though still heavily ritualized) expression of some powerful emotions, and giving the participants an opportunity to subtly air their disagreements and eventually achieve some consensus on the distribution of power and prestige in their social universe by using oratorical metaphors, gift -giving, and other forms of symbolic action.'? The fact that funerals and memorial rites were the most elaborate of all of the Tlingit rituals is not surprising, given a heavy emphasis on pedigree, the key role of ancestors in the life of the living as the creators and guardians of shag6on, as well as a strong belief in reincarnation. This ideology helped the Tlingit cope with human mortality and, according to many observers, significantly diminished the fear of death (e.g., Emmons 1991:270). In the Tlingit view of the human being there was a sharp distinction between the corporeal (temporary and impure) and the noncorporeal (more permanent 20

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and more pure) attributes of the person (see Kan 1989a:49-54). The skin and the flesh were seen as the outer layers of the body that had to be kept pure and "heavy" by constant ritual manipulation described above. The bones, however, were perceived as a more "solid" and "heavy" (i.e., pure) material attribute of the human being, a kind of "core" or framework of the body. A distinction was also made between the more idiosyncratic noncorporeal elements existing only as part of a living person (especially "breath" or life-force, ;s.'aseikw, and "mind" or "thought," lsaa too) and several immortal ones that were passed on through the matriline. 1s Cremation was seen as "a sacred duty necessary to the happiness of the dead" (Emmons 1991:289), since it quickly separated the unclean dead flesh from the pure bones and released the deceased's noncorporeal attributes (Kan 1989a:ul-13). The spirit or ghost of an ordinary deceased was believed to travel to an interior country which resembled the village of the living. 19 During the four days following death, the body of any free person was displayed in his or her house decorated with and surrounded by various representations of his or her matrilineal group's shagoon. The deceased's matrikin observed a set of taboos which immobilized them, while their "opposites" provided various ritual services, from dressing the body to offering words of comfort to the mourners. These ritual services were seen as the most important ones among those exchanged between the two moieties. A high-ranking person's death placed the entire community in a state of ritual suspension or liminality, with many mundane activities being stopped or curtailed. Small feasts were held every night during the wake, in which the mourners sang grieving songs aimed at helping their relative's spirit reach the village of the dead. The opposites' function was to feed and comfort the bereaved. They also cremated the body and collected the charred remains, which were placed in a box and deposited inside a large gravehouse in the cemetery located behind the deceased's house. The postcremation feasts followed the same pattern as the funeral ones, except that they involved the mourners' gradual return to normal life and a distribution of gifts among their "opposites." One or several years later, a large memorial feast (a big koo.eex') was sponsored by the deceased's matrikin, which involved some sort of relocation of his remains into a new box, gravehouse, or, if he had been a person of very high rank, a mortuary pole. This major ritual service was performed by members of the opposite moiety who were generously remunerated in the lsoo.eex' for their "show of love and respect" to the deceased and his matrikin. This act also marked the final permanent installation of the deceased's spirit (ghost?) in the land of the dead. A koo.eex' given in honor of a high-ranking person, and especially a house or a clan head, memorialized several recently deceased members of his group and 21

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also involved the official installation of his heir who assumed the deceased man's ceremonial title and regalia. A big l5.oo.eex' was an elaborate affair with a large number of guests, both local and especially outside ones, participating. Huge amounts of food and material goods had to be accumulated for such a ceremony in which the guests had to be lavished with delicacies and gifts. Four days of preliminary feasting and entertainment were followed by the l5.oo.eex' proper, which began with the hosts expressing their grief for the last time and then ritually expelling it from their bodies. The guests offered them speeches of condolence, seen as another manifestation of their "love" for their in-laws and paternal relatives. The hosts expressed their own gratitude and love to them through feasting, gift-giving, oratory, and the performance of songs and dances. The latter were also an opportunity for the hosts to demonstrate in a proper ritual setting the various manifestations of their ancestral heritage (shagoon) and thus affirm their claims to them in the presence of the "opposites" acting as witnesses. The dead were believed to be present in the l5.oo.eex' alongside the living, since only in this setting, when their names were invoked, could they receive generous portions of food and gifts. Eventually the mood of the ceremony turned from sadness to joy, with the hosts proudly demonstrating their wealth and parading their at.oow. They also performed special "love songs" addressed to their opposites as fathers and potential marriage partners. The distribution of gifts was the climax of the entire affair, with the amount given to each guest serving as a statement of the hosts' view of his or her specific rank. In the course of the memoriall5.oo.eex' the mourners ritually ended their grief and restored the order in their ranks by passing the ceremonial titles and the regalia of their recently deceased matrikin to their descendants. Thus the l5.oo.eex' had several major functions-economic, social, religious, and psychological ones. Because of the need to distribute large amounts of food gifts to the guests, it stimulated production and accumulation of resources. The imbalance in their mourners' relationship with their opposites, caused by a symbolic debt the former had accumulated prior to the potlatch, was restored when they, in the words of the modern-day Tlingit, "paid their opposites off." The ritual also helped restore the social order threatened by death and helped smooth over intra- and intergroup tensions and conflicts, since cooperation and solidarity of matrikin and of opposites were supposed to outweigh competition. The l5.oo.eex' temporarily froze the social hierarchy, since the amount of food and gifts contributed by each host and given to each guest represented their current standing in it. By memorializing and honoring the dead, the l5.oo.eex' participants restored order in the entire social universe and prevented more deaths from 22

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afflicting the hosting group. Finally, it helped the mourners cope with their grief by utilizing such powerful emotions as love toward one's kin and pride in one's public performance (cf. Emmons 1991:16). The presence of the dead and constant invocation of the sacred values associated with them made this the most important Tlingit religious ritual, rather than simply a ceremony dealing with economic or political issues. In other words, the presence of the dead helped sacralize the lsoo.eex'. In this ranked society, the dead-or more precisely the sacred heritage (shagoon) that their matrilineal descendants received from them in the form of tangible and intangible property (at.oow)-were the most valuable spiritual and political resource that had to be regenerated periodically and claims to which had to be legitimized in a public setting, that is, in the presence of the representatives of the opposite moiety. So much of the social identity, power, and prestige of the living depended on their inherited shagoon and on what they were able to do with its manifestations in their own lifetime, that it was natural for the social reproduction to take place in the context of the mortuary rites where these manifestations of shagoon were officially transferred from the dead to their matrilineal descendants. Thus in this society the social order was not simply reconstituted in the death rites but, to a large extent, created in it (Kan 1989a:287-99; cf. Bloch 1982; see also Weiner 1980). In other words, in the course of their mortuary and memorial rites the Tlingit transformed death from a threat to the social order into a major opportunity for strengthening and enhancing it. While most of the free members of Tlingit society were actively in this ritual system and benefited from it, the aristocracy clearly played the leading role here and used this ancestral/mortuary complex to legitimize its dominant role in social and political life. Although rooted in their supervision of production and especially the distribution of resources within the matrilineal group and across the moiety divide, this leading role was perceived as being based on their superior knowledge of the sacred and ritual expertise. However, their strong ties with their junior matrikin as well as their affinal/paternal kin, and especially their strong emotional and spiritual bonds with the ancestors, made the !s.oo.eex' and the ideology surrounding it much more than a form of false consciousness, that is, the ancestral/mortuary complex was both an idiom and mechanism for ranking and competition, on the one hand, and equivalence and cooperation, on the other. It prevented individuals from totally subordinating the interests of their kin to their own self-aggrandizement and kept the aristocracy from becoming a separate class. The fact that competition occurred in an emotionally charged and highly sacralized context helped minimize conflicts, since offending member§ of another group also meant offending their ancestors. 23

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The potlatch did not iron out all the social problems, inequalities, and contradictions of Tlingit society, but it certainly helped soften the harshness of much of the cultural ideology and was a powerful instrument in constructing symbolic immortality. In addition, while many of its activities were very serious, many others were on the lighter side, fully enjoyed by the participants. Generally speaking, while the Tlingit initially appeared to the European newcomers as solemn and harsh people, there certainly was a lighter side to their life, for example, their love of joking, teasing, and singing lighter songs. Emmons (1991:17), who knew the late nineteenth-century Tlingit well, summed up their character cogently when he stated, "In general relations with each other, the Tlingit were kindly and courteous, and dignified with strangers. Mentally they are alert, imaginative, artistic, musical, and possessed of great technical and artistic skill in weaving and carving."

24

2

An60shi The People "from under the Horizon"

The people who arrived in the Lingit aani "from under the horizon" were given an appropriate name, Gus'k'ikwaan (literally, "clouds-base face people") (de Laguna in Emmons 1991:8).1 The Russian Orthodox mission in Alaska was part of Russia's colonial expansion into the New World and, more specifically, the penetration of Alaska by several mercantile fur trading companies, replaced in 1799 by a single one called the Russian-American Company (RAe). While the Russian clergy did not always agree or act in concert with the Company officials, in the eyes of most Alaska Natives (especially the Tlingit), these two agents of colonialism were closely linked to each other. In order to interpret the Orthodox-Tlingit encounter, we need to have a sense of Orthodoxy's unique characteristics as well as its missionary theory and practice. In addition, we need to establish the main patterns of Russia's eastward expansion, which began in Siberia in the sixteenth century and ended in southeastern Alaska and northern California in the early nineteenth century. The colonization of Siberia is particularly relevant here, since the way in which the Russians, including the clergy, perceived Alaska's indigenous population was heavily influenced by their experience with the indigenous peoples west of the Bering Strait.

Orthodox Theology and Ritual The Eastern or Catholic Orthodox Church traces its origins to the very beginning of Christianity.2 Remaining strongly loyal to the decisions of the seven ecumenical councils (325-787 A.D .), it always defined itself as the "Orthodox" Church in distinction to Western Roman Catholicism. The schism of 1054 that separated East and West, the confrontation with the western Crusaders (including the 1204 sacking of Constantinople), the Mongolian conquest of Russia in the thirteenth 25

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century, and other historical events contributed to the estrangement between East and West, which had already begun in the first centuries of Christianity. Linguistic and cultural differences as well as political events further exacerbated this schism. Eastern Orthodoxy rejected the medieval papacy of Rome but did not experience the Reformation, at least not its more radical Western European version. Orthodox people's encounter with modern secularism occurred later than in the West. For the Eastern Church, the highest authority for settling doctrinal disputes was the ecumenical council and not the pope. Its structures and organizations had developed in the tight framework of the Byzantine, Ottoman, and Russian imperial systems, hence its greater subordination to the state than in the West. However, in matters of faith it believes to have preserved the original Christian idea that the entire body of the church, as distinct from any special institution, like the papacy, was the true guardian of the truth. At the same time, its insistence on tradition in matters of ritual and belief, the centrality of the liturgy, the sacramental life, and the more mystical experience of God sharply distinguished its religious outlook from the main principles of Protestantism. The Orthodox Church has always been particularly conservative in liturgical matters. This conservatism is due, to a large extent, to the absence of a central ecclesiastical authority that could enforce reforms and to a firm conviction of the church membership as a whole that the liturgy is the main vehicle and experience of true Christian beliefs. Consequently, reform of the liturgy has often been considered equivalent to a reform of the faith itself. Since the seventeenth century Orthodoxy has recognized seven sacraments. While they are similar to those recognized by the Roman Catholic Church, some important differences do exist. The absence or downplaying of most sacraments by Protestants as well as their rejection of a hierarchically organized clerical class were the main reasons for the Orthodox view of their churches as "heretical sects." Orthodox baptism should be administered by an ordained priest, although in cases of extreme necessity a layman can perform the ceremony too (see chapter 3). Orthodox chrismation is the equivalent of Western confirmation and takes the form of anointing on the forehead and other parts of the body with the words "the seal of the gift of the Holy Spirit." Chrismation tends to follow immediately after baptism and is usually conferred by a priest, but the chrism (ointment) that he uses must be previously blessed by a patriarch or head of an independent (autocephalous) church. Baptized Christians from other churches are generally received into Orthodoxy through this sacrament. The Eucharist, which is the main act of worship during the Sunday liturgy, is believed to be the 26

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "PROM UNDER THE HORIZON"

true body and blood of Christ, and the sacrament of communion is likened to a spiritual feeding of the communicant. This sacrament is supposed to follow a period of careful preparation through prayer and fasting as well as confession of sins to the priest. The confession itself is the fourth sacrament) The sacrament of extreme unction (anointing of the sick) has never been restricted in Orthodoxy to those facing death and is conferred on anyone who asks for it. As a sacrament of healing, it is seen as being closely related to confession. As Ware (1987:573) points out, "The human person is a unity of body and soul, and so the sicknesses of both are healed together." Priesthood is the sixth sacrament of Orthodoxy. The ordained clergy in this Church is divided into a lower rank of married priests and a higher one of celibate bishops recruited from monks or widowed clergymen. Only a bishop can ordain a priest or bless a newly built church. Below the priests in this hierarchical order are the deacons, the subdeacons, and the readers. The deacon, who must be ordained, assists the priest in the service and the administering of the sacraments. The readers, singers, altar boys, and other lower-level church workers are not ordained but must be blessed by the bishop or the priest before serving. Only a priest can administer communion and, under normal circumstances, perform the marriage and the funeral ceremonies. As we shall see, with a severe shortage of priests in Alaska, these rules often had to be stretched, with deacons and lay persons officiating at baptisms, marriages (the seventh sacrament), and funerals. Usually an ordained priest would eventually confirm or sacralize these ritual acts performed by the laity. Alongside these seven sacraments there are many other blessings and sacramental actions that are not sharply differentiated from them, such as the burial rites or the blessing of the waters on Epiphany (January 6). Each Orthodox Church member was supposed to have an icon in his or her home, representing Christ, the Mother of God, or a saint. The icon was kept in a special sacred corner with an oil lamp kept constantly burning in front of it. This is where the family prayers were said, making the home itself a kind of a holy place. In addition, as Ware (1987:574) points out, "Through the blessings of houses, fields, and crops ... the liturgical sequence of the church's year has become integrally linked with the life of the household and the agricultural cycle of the farm." Thus the Orthodox prayer has been described as both otherworldly but also popular and practical (ibid.). Like Catholicism, but unlike Protestantism, Orthodoxy emphasizes the use of material symbols and symbolic gestures in its religious services, thus giving full scope to the physical aspects of worship. In Ware's words (1987:575), the Orthodox faithful "participate in prayer with their bodies through frequent use of the sign of the cross, deep bows or prostrations to the ground, and fasting. At 27

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON"

confession the priest lays his hand on the penitent's head; at the funeral service the dead body lies in an open coffin, and all approach to give the 'last kiss' to the departed. The materiality of the sacramental signs is emphasized through, for instance, the plentiful use of water in the immersion at baptism." Similarly, the Orthodox liturgy has always been seen as a total experience, appealing simultaneously to the emotional, intellectual, and aesthetic faculties of human beings. The Russian term for Orthodoxy, "pravoslavie," literally means "true glorifying" or "true worshipping." As Oleksa (1992:70) suggests, this emphasizes the centrality of worship as the essential expression of faith in the Eastern Church. In his words, "It is in the context of worship that Orthodox believers receive their religious instruction. They not only memorize entire passages of the Old and New Testaments, which constitute most of the hymns, but also learn church doctrine as these are expressed in liturgical texts" (ibid.). Finally, it should be pointed out that Orthodoxy differs from Catholicism in its view of Christ as, first and foremost, the victor, triumphing on the cross over the powers of evil. Consequently, notions of sacrifice and penal substitution are less prominent in the former than in the latter (Ware 1987:571; Meyendorff 1983a:144). This explains why Easter (Pascha) rather than Christmas (Nativity) is the climax of the Orthodox church year. The celebration of Christ's resurrection also dominates the worship on each Saturday evening and Sunday morning. The Christian East has also been more strongly eschatological than the West in its theology and worship. Orthodox Churches, including the Russian Church, have always maintained a strong sense of the unity of the living and the dead. The total church, visible and invisible, is believed to be maintained in unity by a bond of mutual love and mutual intercession, with prayers for the departed occurring regularly in the Orthodox worship and funeral rituals being very elaborate.

The Orthodox Church and the State Because of the specific circumstances of its history, the Orthodox Church has often been described as rather subservient to the state and "ecclesiastically nationalist," on the one hand, and lacking in social activism, on the other.4 The unique nature of church-state relations in several Orthodox countries, and particularly in Russia, is rooted in the politics of the Byzantine empire, the first state where Orthodoxy served as the official religion. Ideally the church-state relationship there was defined as a "dyarchy" or a "symphony" (harmonious relations) between civil and ecclesiastical functions of a Christian society. The Orthodox Church was not supposed to interfere in secular affairs as much as the Catholic one did in the West, while the Byzantine emperor's rule was supposed to be 28

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guided by Orthodox Christian values and beliefs. Clerical opposition to imperial abuses did occur, and several emperors were excommunicated for non canonical acts. However, as Meyendorff (1983a:151) points out, "The Byzantine conception of church-state relations was not ... without major weakness. It often led to a de facto identification of the interests of the church with those of the empire. Conceived when both the church and the emperor were supranational and, in principal, universal, it gradually evolved into a system that gave a sacred sanction to national states.," The use of the vernacular in the Orthodox liturgy, which helped this denomination to spread its influence from Constantinople to the Balkans and Russia as well as parts of the Near East and North Africa, contributed further to this strong identification of religion with national culture. This is precisely what happened in Kievan Russia, which embraced Byzantine Orthodoxy in 988. For several centuries Russia remained an ecclesiastical province of the church of Byzantium, headed by a Greek or a Russian metropolitan appointed from Constantinople. The Orthodox Church survived a devastating Tartar-Mongol invasion of the thirteenth century as the only unified social organization and the main bearer of the Byzantine ("Greek") heritage. "The Metropolitan of Kiev and All Russia," still appointed from Constantinople, was a major political force respected by the Mongol khans who exercised control over Russia for two hundred years. In the fourteenth century he resided in Moscow and exercised some power in Muscovite government affairs. The Church's ecclesiastical support of the emerging Moscow state played a major role in its final victory over both the TatarMongols and its rivals in neighboring Russian states. In 1448 the Russians received a new metropolitan elected by its own bishops. The church became "autocephalous," that is, administered independently under its own metropolitan residing in Moscow. At the same time, with the fall of Constantinople, Muscovite Russia began to consider itself the last bulwark of true Orthodoxy, the "Third Rome." After Grand Prince Ivan III married the niece of the last Byzantine emperor in 1472, the Muscovite sovereigns began increasingly to use the symbols of the Byzantine empire, including the doubleheaded eagle as their state symbol. In 1547 Ivan IV was crowned emperor in a Byzantine ceremony by the metropolitan of Moscow and in 1551 he solemnly presided over a great council of Russian bishops, in which various issues of liturgy and discipline were settled and numerous Russian saints canonized. Finally in 1589 the patriarch of Constantinople, while visiting Russia, was pressured by his hosts to establish the Russian metropolitan as the "Patriarch of Moscow and All Russia." As Meyendorff (1983b:156) points out, the Byzantine "symphony" between the 29

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON"

emperor and the patriarch never really applied to Russia. In his words, "The secular goals of the Muscovite state and the will of the monarch always superseded canonical or religious considerations, which were still binding on the medieval emperors of Byzantium. Muscovite political ideology was always more influenced by the beginnings of western European secularism and Asiatic despotism than by Roman or Byzantine law" (ibid.). Thus, compared to their Constantinople predecessors, Russian patriarchs were quite powerless to resist the tsars, particularly after the reign of Peter the Great (1682-1725), who radically turned away from the Byzantine heritage and reformed the state according to the model of Protestant Europe. In 1721 he abolished patriarchy and transformed the central administration of the church into a department of the state, "the Holy Governing Synod." An imperial high commissioner (Oberprokuror) was to be present at all meetings and act as the administrator of church affairs, as the tsar's "eyes and ears" in the Synod of bishops. The emperor also issued a lengthy "Spiritual Regulations" ("Dukhovnyi Reglament") which served as bylaws of all religious activities in Russia and remained in force, at least nominally, until 1917. Weakened by the seventeenth-century schism of the so-called "Old Believers," the church passively accepted the reforms. In the emperor's view, one of the priest's main tasks was to assist the state in enforcing its laws, especially those directed against the Old Believers. Hence the Russian clergy was often forced to act as an instrument of persecution and oppression. While positive developments in the life of the Church, including improvements in ecclesiastical education, did occur in the eighteenth century, all attempts to challenge the tsar's power over the Church met with failure. In the words of Meyendorff (1983b:159), "One of the most debilitating aspects of the regime was the legal division of Russian society by a rigid caste system. The clergy was one of the castes with its own school system, and there was little possibility to choose another career." The situation did not change significantly in the next century, even though new academies and seminaries were opened. "The rigid caste system and the strictly professional character of these schools, however, were serious obstacles to the seriously influencing society at large. It was, rather, through the monasteries and their spirituality that the church began to reach the intellectual class "(ibid.).5 In 1905, Tsar Nikolai II finally gave his approval for the establishment of a commission charged with the preparation of an all-Russian Church Council. The avowed goal of the planned assembly was to reestablish the church's independence, lost since Peter the Great, and eventually restore the patriarchate. Unfortunately, the assembly was able to meet only after the Bolshevik coup of October

30

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1917, which opened an era of the church's severe prosecution by and embarrass-

ing collaboration with the Communist state. While being subservient to the state, the Russian Church also abstained from the kind of social activism that was so important for many Western churches, and especially the Protestant ones. Some of this lack of activism, which many Westerners saw as passive fatalism, had to do with the Orthodox theologians' traditional view that the social responsibility of human beings is an outcome of their life in Christ. This position helped the Russian Church survive very unfavorable conditions, but it also made most of its clergymen, especially the bishops, politically and socially conservative.

Russian Orthodox Missionaries and the Conquest of Siberia The nature of Russian Orthodoxy and its relationship with the Russian state6 influenced the Church's missionary theory and practice, with two very different missionary approaches developing over the centuries. Thus, with its emphasis on using the vernacular languages in its worship, the Church encouraged its missionaries to go to the "pagan" peoples of the neighboring lands, learn their languages, and use them to preach the Gospel. Given the enormous size of the rapidly expanding Russian state and the large number of non-Christian inhabitants in its newly conquered lands, the Church had to show a certain amount of tolerance of indigenous beliefs and customs. In addition, Russian clergymen were used to dealing with illiterate Russian peasants who preserved many pre-Christian Slavic beliefs and observances (Rybakov 1987). Standard histories of Russian missionary endeavors usually begin with the labors of St. Stefan of Perm, who in the late fourteenth century volunteered to preach the Gospel to the Komi people of northern Russia, eventually creating an alphabet for writing down translations of religious texts and hymns into their language. With the conquest of Siberia in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Orthodox missionary activities spread all the way to the far eastern border of the state. Some of the more enlightened missionaries, such as those trained in the Irkutsk Seminary in the eighteenth century, continued to show tolerance of local customs and made an effort to learn the local languages. Many others exemplified the second approach to proselytizing, which embraced the use of force and emphasized the Russification of the indigenous population. In fact, even St. Stefan of Perm was known for attacking Komi shrines and chopping up their "idols" (Forsyth 1992:5). Quite a few Orthodox priests sent to Siberia

31

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resented their assignment, performed their duties without enthusiasm, and longed to return to Russia. As a matter of fact, many of the first baptisms east of the Ural Mountains were performed not by the clergy but by the Cossacks and other secular representatives of the Russian state. Although the Cossacks were not particularly interested in baptizing the Siberian heathens, they did bring their Native servants and wives into the Church. Since the search for furs was the main reason for Russia's expansion into Siberia, fur tribute (iasak) became the main form of the Native people's submission to Russian authority. Only the baptized Natives were exempt from this payment. Because of that, until the eighteenth century the state did not encourage mass baptism of Siberian Natives. In addition to local women married to the Russians and low-ranking persons working for them, some representatives of the Native elites were also baptized in order to make them Russian allies. Their baptism was accompanied by generous gift giving and feasting. This heavy reliance on local Native leaders, who were usually allowed to retain their rank and authority, was typical for the Russian colonial policy in Siberia from the sixteenth century on. Besides baptism, gifts, feasting, and general courteous and ceremonial treatment were used to attract the local leaders. However, those Native chiefs and elders who did not respond to these measures and continued to resist were dealt with harshly. Hostagetaking was another method to insure peace and Native obedience. It made sense to the local people who had practiced it themselves prior to the Russian arrival (Pierce 1988); still some ofthem resisted it. Since the government's main concern was the uninterrupted delivery of the fur tribute and the safety of its small garrisons and settlements on the frontier, there was little effort made to interfere with and modify the Native way of life, including religion. Of course, in order to remain good producers of iasak, the Natives had to be allowed to continue their hunting way oflife. In addition to the delivery of the fur tribute, the local Natives were used as guides, interpreters, and builders of roads and bridges. Iasak was a heavy burden on many indigenous Siberians and various forms of resistance against it, including warfare, occurred. At the same time, for many indigenous groups, especially in Eastern Siberia, interaction with the Russians remained quite limited, the Native people being pretty much left alone (ibid.). Missionary activities, which were very limited in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, were revived under Peter the Great, who saw civilizing his nonRussian subjects as an important task for the state. Thus in 1702 the new Siberian metropolitan, Filofei Leshchinskii, received the emperor's permission to convert the iasak-paying people without lifting their tribute obligations, and in 1706 he was urged to travel to the Khanty country in western Siberia to "burn down their 32

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON"

idols" and baptize them "big and small." For the next decade Leshchinskii energetically attacked the Native idols and marched the Khanty into the water to be baptized. Some Natives resisted; others were forced to accept baptism by a combination of carrots (temporary exemption from iasak, gifts, etc.) and sticks (Slezkine 1994:49). At the same time, Peter I was the first tsar to argue that nonChristians had to be introduced to Orthodoxy beyond the mere baptismal ritual and ordered the Synod to find missionaries who could learn the Native languages, translate the Bible into them, live among the Natives, and teach them. Some indigenous Siberians were even sent to St. Petersburg to be educated, and schools were set up in some local monasteries to teach the rudiments of Christianity and Russian language to young Natives. Under Peter the Great's heirs the state lost much of its interest in baptizing the indigenous northerners, so that in much of Siberia many of the Native converts continued to practice their traditional religion in secret or syncretized indigenous beliefs and rituals with Orthodox ones. The early years of Empress Catherine the Great's rule were marked by greater tolerance in matters of Christianization, but the Church could not boast of any major accomplishments in that area. The most enlightened document dealing with the state's treatment of Siberian Natives was developed in the early 1820S by Alexander I's reform-minded governor of Siberia, Speranskii. His statutes for governing indigenous Siberians emphasized indirect rule (i.e., reliance on local elites) and placed many of them into a category of "not fully dependent aliens" who were granted a substantial amount of freedom in running their own affairs. The statutes also encouraged local Orthodox clergymen not to interfere in the internal affairs of the Natives and to use only persuasion in trying to convert them. However, as has often been the case in Russia, the practical implementation of these statutes turned out to be quite difficult, with many local state officials continuing their policy of abusing the indigenous population. Eventually the state returned to more oppressive and nationalist policies of governing Siberia's indigenous population. While some missionary work continued throughout the first half of the nineteenth century, on the whole the Russian Church's proselytizing activities were much more modest than those of either the Catholic or the various Protestant churches of Western Europe in the New World (cf. Kobtzeff 1986). A new era in the history of the Orthodox missionization of Siberian Natives began in the last quarter of the nineteenth century when the liberal tradition of using the local languages to propagate Christianity reasserted itself in the works of Il'misnkii and his colleagues at the Kazan Theological Academy (Slezkine 1994:121-2). At the same time, this era was also 33

AN()OSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON"

marked by renewed efforts to Russify the non-Russian peoples of the empire and force them to become Orthodox (see Kan in Kamenskii 1985:3-14; Kan n.d.a.; Vdovin 1979).

The Early Russian Expansion into Alaska and the Orthodox Church7 Russia's "discovery" of Alaska was a natural continuation of its eastward march toward the Pacific Ocean. 8 While his first voyage from 1725 to 1730 did not allow Bering and his people to land on the American shore, it convinced them that Asia and America were indeed separated. The second expedition, which began in 1733, was more successful. On July 15,1741, the crew of one of his two ships, Saint Paul, under Chirikov, sighted land at what is believed by some scholars to be the Prince of Wales Island in the Alexander Archipelago, part of the region occupied by the Tlingit people. Subsequently Chirikov lost two small boats sent ashore to get fresh water, in what may have been a hostile encounter with the Tlingit near the northern end of ChichagofIsland (de Laguna 1972:108), and eventually made face-to-face contact with the Aleuts on one of the islands of the Aleutian chain. The second ship under Bering's command sighted more easterly shores of Alaska and made a brief landing on Kayak island near the mouth of the Copper River. In 17411,500 sea otter pelts brought back by the survivors of the second Bering expedition were sold for nearly 1,000 rubles each at the Chinese trading post near Lake Baikal. This started a rush of hunters and traders (Russian sing. promyshlennik) from Siberia to the Aleutian Islands. While the Russian state at the time was preoccupied with European ventures and not particularly interested in or capable of expanding its colonial empire into America, Siberian merchants quickly seized the new opportunity to make a handsome profit. Backed by private companies organized in Irkutsk and Okhotsk, parties of promyshlenniks moved from island to island in the Aleutian chain and by 1762 had reached the Alaska Peninsula. Russian penetration of the Aleutians tended to follow a pattern of exploiting one group of islands of the chain until the supply of animals became exhausted and then moving eastward to the next group, eventually reaching the mainland. Many of these promyshlenniks were Pomory-free peasants and other Russian inhabitants of the White Sea shores and neighboring areas. These northern Russians had their own distinct culture and dialect and had been accustomed to dealing with non-Russian northerners, with whom they engaged in sexual and trade relations. Others were Russian settlers from Kamchatka who themselves were the descendants of migrants from northern Russia. There were also quite a 34

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON"

few native Siberians among them, mostly Itel'men and Koryak who were hired as crew members, especially during the earlier Aleutian voyages. Many early Alaska promyshlenniks were rough frontier types who sought freedom from various state duties and taxes. Instructed by the government to obtain iasak from the newly "discovered" Aleuts (Unangan), they continued the basic pattern of interaction that had characterized Russian-Native relations in Siberia. While the indigenous people the Russians encountered in this region had a rather complex social organization (which included ranking) and had been accustomed to warfare, the fact that they had inferior weapons, occupied relatively defenseless villages scattered over a series of islands, and were divided into quite distinct kinship groups and residential units meant that their resistance to Russian colonialism could not prevent the newcomers from establishing their domination over the area. 9 Some of the Russian-Aleut encounters were friendly and involved an exchange of gifts and feasting, while others were hostile, the Russians capturing Native women and supplies. As in Siberia, Russian sovereignty over the Unangan was declared and symbolically marked by the imposition of iasak (usually in the form of the valuable sea otter skins) and by taking hostages to insure peace. The latter activity must have made sense to the Aleuts, who had practiced it in their own intervillage wars as well as in their confrontations with other Native Alaskan peoples to the east. As in Siberia, liaisons between Russian men and Unangan women were soon established, some by forceful means and some with the local inhabitants' consent (Lantis 1984; Veltre 1990). In the 1740S to 1760s most of the sea otter hunting and some fox trapping was done by the Russians themselves. However, by the mid-1760s, Aleut resistance to Russian abuse was crushed and the Aleut men, famous for their skills in marine hunting, were forced to devote much of their time and energy to procuring sea otters for the various independent fur-trading companies. The extent of the Russian mistreatment of Aleuts and its negative effect on Aleut population figures remain a hotly debated topic (e.g., Black 1984; Veltre 1990; Oleksa 1992:81-93; Mousalimas 1995:27-82). Lantis (1984) and Veltre (1990) make a persuasive argument that around 80 percent of the indigenous population was lost in the first two generations of Russian domination, between the middle of the eighteenth century and the 1790S when Shelikhov's Russian-American Company (RAe) gained control. Government regulations prohibiting the abuse of Aleuts, including forceful resettlement, tended to be ignored by most independent skippers. It appears that until competition between the various Russian merchant companies was eliminated by the state's granting of the monopoly to Shelikhov's heirs in 1799, some Aleut communities were able to playoff one 35

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON

company against another and thus preserve a certain amount of political independence. With the establishment of the RAe in 1799, this was no longer possible, and indigenous political independence in the region was lost. In addition to treating the Aleuts as its subordinate serflike population, the men, obligated to serve the company as hunters, being taken further and further away from their home territory, the RAe used them as an auxiliary military force in its confrontations with the Alutiiq (Pacific Yup'ik) people of Kodiak and the neighboring areas to the south, and eventually with the Tlingit. Fairly early in their encounter with the Unangan, some of the promyshlenniks began to baptize them; some did this out of piety and others out of a need to establish more peaceful relationships and cement alliances. Many of the first baptized Aleuts were women living with the Russians. Eventually some of the Russians began to settle more permanently on the islands, entering into more permanent relationships with Unangan women and fathering children whom they would usually baptize. Having come from Siberia, where such forms of interaction with the indigenous populations were common and where baptized natives tended to be seen as at least spiritually "Russian" and friendlier, most of the ordinary promyshlenniks, themselves located rather low in the social hierarchy of Russian society and having some indigenous Siberian ancestry, probably did not have strong anti-Aleut prejudices in the racist sense. For many of the Aleuts, who by the 1780s had been for several decades suffering decimation, demoralization, and exploitation, the opportunity to establish a kind of client -patron relationship with their Russian godfathers must have been a welcome opportunity to improve their situation, at least by protecting themselves from being abused by other fur traders. For the promyshlenniks, baptized Natives represented a more submissive and reliable labor force during the time when competition between fur-trading companies intensified, creating a labor shortage. By 1770, when the cost of outfitting expeditions to increasingly distant places drove smaller companies out of business, a few merchants with their stronger companies came to dominate the Alaska fur trade. By that time, the government in St. Petersburg was becoming more aware of and interested in the situation in "Russian America." The new head of state, Empress Catherine the Great, was determined to be an "enlightened monarch." She proclaimed that the inhabitants of the Aleutians were Russian subjects and issued decrees demanding that they be treated better. During her reign iasak payment by the Unangan and other Native people was terminated. Of all the Russian companies operating in the area, one headed by Georgii Shelikhov proved most successful. In 1784, utilizing the same methods that had been used by earlier promyshlenniks in the Aleutians, he subjugated the Alutiiq

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON"

inhabitants of the island of Kodiak and established his settlement there in Three Saints Bay. Shelikhov used male Kodiak Islanders as a source of manpower-as hunters for the company and fighters against neighboring groups. He skillfully exploited local and intertribal hostilities and enmities and eventually won the Kodiak Islanders over by replacing brute force with gift-giving. Soon after consolidating his rule over Kodiak's inhabitants, Shelikhov began baptizing the local people, beginning with the children of Russian men and Native women as well as the hostages. He also established a school on the island where these children (and eventually children brought by their Native fathers to learn the ways of the conquerors) were taught the three Rs as well as practical skills (e.g., navigation) and some very basic precepts of Christianity. Concerned with expanding his work force, he encouraged marriages between Russian men and Alutiiq women. In 1787-88 Shelikhov was in St. Petersburg, where he appealed to the government to have a monopoly granted to his company, citing the need to check ruinous competition among the various merchant companies and the threat of European (especially British) and American penetration into the region, to conserve fur resources, protect the Natives, and explore and conquer new lands for the empress and the state (Pierce 1988:121). In his petitions to the government, Shelikhov, seeking to win imperial patronage and receive a monopoly, emphasized the willingness of Native Alaskans to be baptized.lO He asked that a clerical mission or at least a priest be assigned to the Aleutian Islands and Kodiak, and agreed to bear the expenses involved in maintaining churches there. He also asked that several Natives from among his best students be permitted to study for the priesthood in the Irkutsk seminary in Eastern Siberia. In 1790 Alexander Baranov (1746-1819) became the chief manager of Shelikhov's North American enterprise. While bringing some order and discipline into the ranks of the promyshlenniks and the company's operations, Baranov continued to treat the Natives in the same paternalistic and authoritarian manner that had been practiced by predecessors in Alaska and Siberia. Using brutal methods of impressing the Kodiak people and, to a lesser extent, those of the Aleutian Islands into his service, he continued sending Native hunting crews to obtain sea otter pelts further and further away from their home territory. Many of these hunters lost their lives in stormy weather, from other Native groups' attacks, food poisoning, and other hazards. Lashing and running the gauntlet were common disciplinary methods for Native and Russian workers of the Company during the Baranov era. At the same time the chief manager showed genuine, if paternalistic, concern for his workers-Russian and Native alike, for example, always trying to ransom them when they became hostages. Under 37

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON"

Baranov, the use of Native labor increased significantly, as many Russian northerners and Siberians returned home, unhappy with the difficult living conditions in Alaska. In addition to using Native Alaskans as hunters, Baranov had to continue to rely on them as his main fighting force. The chief manager, who had a wife back in Russia but lived in a common-law marriage with the daughter of a Kodiak leader, condoned his Russian employees' seizure of some Native women whom they turned into concubines. At the same time he was a talented. entrepreneur and a brave man who seemed to have a pretty good grasp of the lifeways of the Native Alaskans he came in contact with. He was willing to honor such indigenous practices as prolonged visits to the Russian settlements accompanied by ceremonial dancing and speech-making, in return for which he generously feasted and gave gifts to his guests. He also insisted on taking children of local elites as hostages but ordered that they be treated well. Under Baranov, the excessive violence of the first fifty years of the Russian presence in Alaska gradually gave way to a more peaceful interaction, although skirmishes and battles did occur, especially when the chief manager and his people mistreated the Natives and infringed upon their hunting grounds and other ancestral territories. The aboriginal hunters, serving the Company as serfs, occasionally expressed their resentment against being mistreated. They found allies in a missionary party that arrived in Alaska four years after Baranov became the virtual dictator on Kodiak and other Shelikhov's establishments. Shelikhov's request for clergymen to be sent to Alaska was received favorably by the empress and the Holy Synod. In 1793 Metropolitan Gabriel appointed a group consisting of ten monks and two novices to travel to Kodiak under the direction of archimandrite Iosaf Bolotov (The Russian Orthodox Religious Mission in America ... 1978; Afonsky 1977:16-39; Mousalimas 1995:212-13, n. 2). The Russian Orthodox Church considers the arrival of this group of monks on Kodiak on September 24, 1794, the beginning of its first overseas mission and the start of its mission in Alaska. On their way to Kodiak the missionaries baptized over one hundred Unangan in Unalaska. In 1796 they consecrated the first Orthodox church in America, the church of the Holy Resurrection at St. Paul's Harbor. Having submitted to Russian control over their lives, the aboriginal inhabitants of Kodiak, particularly the young, appeared to be interested in learning the ways of their conquerors and being baptized. In 1795 Iosaf reported that on Kodiak, the nearby islands, and on the Alaska peninsula 6,740 Natives (mostly Unangan and Alutiiq) had been baptized. In the same year the hieromonk Iuvenalii baptized 700 Alutiiq (Chugach Yup'ik) of the Prince William Sound area, and from there went to the Kenai Peninsula, where a substantial number of

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON"

Tanaina Athapascans were baptized. In the meantime, Fr. Makarii labored with success in the Aleutians, where he baptized 2,442 persons and married 536, including 36 mixed (Russian-Native) couples. When the missionaries arrived in Kodiak, they were shocked by what they perceived as lawlessness and the "wild frontier" atmosphere of Baranov's rule. They were particularly incensed by the promyshlenniks' "immoral" behavior and the various forms of mistreatment of Native hunters. They were opposed to the Russian men's attempts to take small children born by their Native common-law wives and mistresses back to Russia. They also tried to establish a parish school on Kodiak and argued that eventually the best of the Native students should be taught religious subjects in preparation for becoming local clergymen, and for that purpose a religious school or even a seminary should be established on Kodiak, instead of sending these young people to Russia (Oleksa 1992:106-18). Soon Fr. Iosafbegan writing complaints about Baranov to Shelikhov. Angered by their criticism and especially by their attempts to defend the Natives and even incite them against him, Baranov threatened the missionaries with arrests and promises to send them back to Russia. 1I Despite his conflicts with the clergy, Baranov was quite interested in using baptism of Native people, and especially their elders and chiefs, as an instrument of alliance-building and control, and seemed to have had a number of highranking godsons in several Native Alaskan communities. The missionaries might also have exaggerated the lack of discipline among the company's employees under Baranov. Thus while he encouraged more permanent liaisons between Russian men and local women as the only way to keep the promyshlennks happy, he did not allow prostitution and demanded that the men support their Native common-law wives and mistresses. Baranov used liquor as another means of maintaining the promyshlenniks' morale, joining in their celebration of saints' days and other Church holidays, the emperor's birthday and coronation day, and other festivals. A northerner himself, Baranov was culturally closer to his Russian employees than any of the subsequent governors of Russian America. He also appears to have learned to communicate in several indigenous Alaskan languages and must have appeared to the Natives as a brave and strong-willed Russian chief (Khlebnikov [1835]1976; Tikhmenev [1861-63]1978:41-61). In 1794 Ivan Golikov, Shelikhov's partner, petitioned metropolitan Gabriel for the establishment of a separate see in America and promised his company's support for the bishop and several priests. The new prelate was to bear the title "the Bishop of Kodiak," functioning as a vicar of the Irkutsk diocese. The government awarded about 4,000 rubles annually for the upkeep of the bishop and his residence; the rest of the funds was supposed to be provided by the Shelikhov39

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON

Golikov Company. Archimandrite Iosaf, who had gone back to Siberia, was consecrated as a bishop in Irkutsk in 1799, but on the return voyage to his new diocese in Alaska he and most members of the Kodiak mission perished in a shipwreck. The two priests and two monks who remained on Kodiak continued to criticize Baranov's and his men's mistreatment of Natives. In 1799 the monopoly was granted by imperial decree to Shelikhov's heirs in a charter forming the Russian-American Company. The Company was given the sole right to trade in and administer the newly discovered region for the next twenty years (Tikhmenev 1978:41-61). As Pierce (1988:121) points out, the colonial system created by the charter of 1799 resembled that of the Hudson's Bay Company and the British East Indian Company. The RAe became the sole representative of the crown within the area designated, exercising quasigovernmental authority. The Company's 1799 charter did not contain elaborate or definitive regulations about the status of the Alaska Natives. Consequently Baranov, the Company's first chief manager, established his own strict order under which the Unangan and the Alutiiq people came under the Company's paternalistic control. Thus all of the able-bodied men and women were required to work for it for a certain period of time and meet a quota. This included service in a sea otter hunting brigade, bird hunting, or fox trapping, and work brigades residing for periods of time in small settlements to obtain various foodstuffs, such as dried salmon and whale meat. Some provisions and reimbursements for these Native employees were provided by the company, especially if a hunter took more than his assigned quota of furs. As with the Unangan, the Company's exploitation of the Alutiiq people and their dispersal over coastal Alaska and eventually even to California could not but disrupt the traditionallifeway and resulted in a substantial and rather rapid population decline, even though Company officials limited their interference in Native internal affairs and social life (cf. Clark 1984). Although in the aftermath of the tragic shipwreck of 1798 the number of missionaries in Alaska was very small, the remaining clergymen continued challenging Baranov and acting as the guardians of morality and the defenders of the Native employees of the Company. In 1802 they sent a collective memorandum against its abuses and, in response to it, the Holy Synod sent the hieromonk Gideon to investigate the situation and revive missionary activities in Russian America. He stayed in Kodiak between 1804 and 1807 and eventually managed to improve the relationship between the clergy and the Company. Since he was an emissary of the Synod and of the emperor himself, Baranov had to treat him more respectfully than his predecessors. Gideon organized a two-grade school for the Native children, where he taught not only the three Rs but the founda40

ANOOSHI: THE PEOPLE "FROM UNDER THE HORIZON"

tions of Orthodoxy as well as history, geography, and several other secular subjects. By 1807 the school enrolled 100 students and was maintained by the RA C (Gideon [1803-90]1989). By that time the RAC'S center of operation had shifted to New Archangel (Sitka), in the heart of the Tlingit territory. Orthodox missionary activities in Alaska, with the exception of Kodiak, did not gain a new momentum until the 1820S when Fr. Ivan Veniaminov arrived (see chapters 3 and 4).

41

3

The Early Decades of Tlingit -Russian Interaction

he

nature of the Tlingit relationship with the Russian Orthodox Church and the extent of its influence (or lack thereof) on Tlingit culture can only be understood within the broader context of the Tlingit interaction with the Russian -American Company (R A c), this paternalistic quasi -governmental institution which controlled most of the Russian-Tlingit contacts prior to 1867. During this period Tlingit relations with the An60shi were also affected by the wider process of the European and American trading operations in southeastern Alaska (see Gunther 1972; Gibson 1992). This chapter briefly outlines this process and then focuses primarily on RAC and ROC relations with the Tlingit. My primary interest here is not so much to document the events of the early Tlingit-Russian encounters, which has already been done by de Laguna (1972) and especially Grinev (1991),1 as to try to get at the Tlingit views and interpretations of the Russians' behavior, the images of the Tlingit developed by the Russians during the Russian America period, and the main patterns of interaction between these two groups. (ROC)

First Contacts The first documented encounter between the Europeans and the Tlingit occurred at latitude 57° 50' N., near the northern end of Chichagof Island, when Chirikov, the captain of the ship Sv. Pavel (St. Paul), dispatched two boats which were never heard from again. Later on St. Paul was approached by two Tlingit boats, but only visual contact was made since the Tlingit did not board the ship but gestured to the Russians to follow them to the shore; having thus lost the small boats, his only means oflanding, Chirikov sailed away without setting foot on the shore of Lingit aanf (de Laguna 1972:108; Grinev 1991:91). With the establishment of the administrative center of the Shelikhov-Golikov 42

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

Company on Kodiak in 1784, a direct face-to-face Russian encounter with Tlingit, the southern neighbors of the Native inhabitants of that island, was only a matter of time. However, before it finally took place in 1788, the Tlingit had been visited by a number of other European voyagers, encounters with whom quickly began to make a rather significant impact on Tlingit material culture and, through the introduction of new diseases, on the Tlingit population figures as well. News of the Russian penetration of the coastal region of western and southwestern Alaska alarmed the Spanish government, which had earlier made some claims to the entire western coast of North America. To back up these claims the viceroy of New Spain sent two expeditions to take possession of the Alaska coast as far north as latitude 60. It was the second expedition that in 1775 reached the islands of the Alexander Archipelago and came in contact with the Southern Tlingit on the western coast of Prince of Wales Island in the vicinity of Salisbury Sound (de Laguna 1972:110). This encounter might have been the first Tlingit exposure to the key symbol of Christianity and the Christian monarchies of Europe. Having landed, the Spaniards planted a wooden cross as a symbol of Spanish sovereignty and hammered out another one on a nearby rock. It appears that asserting the "legitimacy" of their claim to Tlingit land, rather than trade, was the main concern of the Spanish. While unfamiliar with the cross, the Tlingit might have perceived it as a valuable crest of the newcomers whose clothing, sails, and flags must also have been decorated with it. Soon after it had been planted, the Tlingit removed and relocated it into the vicinity of their house (Mourelle, cited in Grinev 1991:93; cf. La Perouse 1799:100-102).2 Another major encounter between the European visitors and the Tlingit took place in 1786 in Lituya Bay, a treacherous body of water traditionally claimed by the people of the Hoonah kwaan. Weare fortunate to have La Perouse's detailed description of his visit (de Laguna 1972:114-23) as well as a very interesting and well-documented Tlingit oral tradition of the same encounter (see below). The French quickly found out that the Tlingit were shrewd and skillful traders who preferred only certain items (especially iron bars and iron tools). La Perouse saw several European items in their possession which indicates either direct trade with the "People from Under the Horizon" or trade with other coastal Native peoples who had previously acquired such objects from the Europeans. All in all, La Perouse received over 600 sea otter furs from the Tlingit in exchange for various trade goods. Relations between the local inhabitants and La Perouse's people were not entirely peaceful. When the former saw the French erecting their observatory at the entrance to Lituya Bay, they sneaked up on them at night and stole a musket, 43

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

some clothing,and the map containing all of La Perouse's previous astronomical observations. As de Laguna (1972:119-20) suggests, such hostile action was usually carried out by the Tlingit against those whom they perceived as enemies or at least as rather unreliable and potentially dangerous visitors. The fact that the French had been helping themselves to firewood, fresh water, and fish, resources which to them seemed free but were clan property to the Tlingit, could have been enough to provoke Tlingit retaliation. At the same time, the Tlingit, appreciating the advantages of the European trade, were not interested in a major confrontation. In fact, the next day La Perouse was visited by the local chief and his party who performed a series of songs and dances on board the French vessel-a form of ritualized behavior suggesting peacemaking. At the conclusion of the performance, the visiting leader offered to sell La Perouse the Cenotaph Island, which the French had already occupied, for a variety of trade items (including iron and popular red cloth). While La Perouse himself was unsure whether the people he called "savages" had a concept ofland ownership, de Laguna (ibid.) speculates that the chief who made the offer was the head of the T'akdeintaan (L'uknax.adi?) clan from Hoonah. Since that group owned the Lituya Bay area, its head was within his legitimate rights in making this modest offer in return for coveted new material objects. The offer was also a way of reestablishing peace with the newcomers who were seen as useful, even though lacking good Tlingit manners. As this episode demonstrates, the Tlingit were willing and even eager to trade with the Europeans, and were not even averse to letting them occupy a limited amount of territory, but insisted on the transaction being carried out on their own terms; they also demanded payment for the land and resources used, the payment serving as an acknowledgment of the original owners' prior claims to them. Soon it was the Russians' turn to learn the hard way about this proper ("respectful") manner in which the Tlingit expected to be treated by the Gus'k'ilswaan. According to an indigenous oral tradition, recorded by Emmons (1911), de Laguna (1972:258-59) and the Dauenhauers (1987:292-309), before discovering that the Europeans were indeed human, the Tlingit thought them to be some mythical creatures with superhuman power. Referring specifically to the Lituya Bay area, these accounts describe the fear experienced by the Tlingit people as they watched the large boats slowly coming toward them from a distance. Drawing upon their own mythology, the Tlingit interpreted the white sails of these boats as the wings of the Raven whose return had been predicted by a wellknown myth. Since this story has already been analyzed by the Dauenhauers (ibid.), I will not discuss it in detail, except to mention that it nicely illustrates the transition from "myth" to "history" in Tlingit relations with the Europeans (cf. Harkin 1988). This transition occurs when a brave old man decides to sacrifice 44

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

his life for the sake of his people and visit the mysterious "Raven Boat." While some of the things he sees there amaze and frighten him, he eventually realizes that the newcomers are human, their food tasty, and their artifacts useful. What is particularly interesting about some of the versions of this story is that the newcomers are identified as Russian, rather than French (e.g., Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1987:298-301). This suggests that the oral tradition transformed the An6oshi-the main group of newcomers the Northern Tlingit interacted with prior to 1867-into the generic Europeans, the Gus'k'!£waan par excellence. In the meantime, the British captains, pursuing primarily commercial, rather than state, interests began visiting the Tlingit in 1785 and continued their annual journeys to southeastern Alaska throughout the 1780s, obtaining sea otter furs from them and selling the pelts at a handsome profit in Canton, thus undermining the Russian commercial companies' own trade with the Chinese. In the late 1780s the first American ships also began trading in the waters of the Northwest Coast, with at least some of them undoubtedly coming in contact with the Tlingit (Gibson 1992). The first documented face-to-face encounter between the Russians and the Tlingit occurred in 1788 when a galliot, Tri Sviatitelia (Three Saints) under the command of Bocharov and Izmailov, visited Native settlements in Yakutat and Lituya bays (see Shelikhov 1971:88-112; de Laguna 1972:133-38). The expedition represented Russian commercial and state interests. Shelikhov, its organizer, was expanding his company's search for furs and potential sites for new settlements, moving south from Kodiak Island into Prince William Sound and beyond. The Russian government, concerned about an increase of the visits by other European powers' ships to coastal Alaska, instructed him to have the expedition secretly bury copper shields bearing the imperial coat-of-arms in order to claim the newly discovered lands for Russia, especially in places where prior European vessels had obtained large supplies of furs. The expedition first interacted with the people the Russians called "Chugach," who were the Alutiiq-speaking Yup'ik inhabitants of Prince William Sound, with whom they traded but also had one skirmish. Instead of burying a Russian coat-of-arms in the Chugach territory, the expedition leaders decided to give it to a certain "reliable" and intluentiallocal leader (toen)) It was from these Alutiiq that they had been hearing about the Eyak and Tlingit settlements further south. It should be pointed out that the Tlingit, especially those of the Gulf of Alaska, were not particularly fond of their Alutiiq neighbors to the north, with whom they did trade but whose incursions into the Tlingit-owned sea otter hunting grounds and occasional raids they deeply resented. 4 While the Tlingit may have been impressed with the Alutiiqs' superior sea otter hunting skills, they 45

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

were probably troubled by the absence among them of a "respectable" marriage system based on exogamous clans and moieties and by the fact that Pacific Yup'ik men wore a labret-a standard decoration and symbol of a Tlingit woman (cf. Grinev 1991:22). Not surprisingly, the term "Guteix'," used by the modern Yakutat Tlingit for the "Chugach," was glossed as "enemy" in the word list compiled by the Malaspina expedition, which visited Yakutat in 1791 (de Laguna 1972:213; Emmons 1991:426). The Alutiiq were probably equally appalled or at least surprised by the large labrets worn by the Tlingit women. In fact, the most likely etymology of the term "Kalash" ("Kalash," "Kaliuzh," "Kaliuzh"), which became the standard Russian label for the Tlingit (and their coastal neighbors to the south), is an Aleut term "kaluga" (kalukax), a "wooden dish," transformed into the Alaskan Russian "kaluzhka" (Veniaminov 1984:381; Grinev 1986, 1991:22-23).5

Izmailov and Bocharov established friendly relations with the Yakutat Bay Tlingit and engaged in brisk trade. Once again the Indians seemed to be much more interested in metal pieces and artifacts than in beads and other trinkets, and in European clothing, which they soon began wearing as a mark of prestige and evidence of their ability to obtain exotic items of personal adornment from afar. As in Prince William Sound, the Russians were reluctant to bury a copper coat-of-arms in the ground, fearing that the Tlingit would remove it. Instead they found a "better" solution-presenting it as a gift to a local leader who visited their ship and whom they perceived as the head chief of the local area. The Russian account of the expedition (Shelikhov 1971:104) renders his name as "Ilxaku" and describes his dignified bearing and the great respect shown to him by the local people. It also mentions that the chief's "real residence" was on the Chilkat River. The irony here was that the Chilkat kwaan people only visited but did not claim the lands of the Yakutat kwaan. De Laguna (1972:135) is probably correct in her interpretation of the man's name as "Yeilxak," which would make him the leading head man of the great Qaanaxteidi clan of the Raven moiety from Klukwaan, a major Chilkat village. A powerful visitor of such high rank, related to the local Ravens, would undoubtedly have been treated with utmost respect in Yakutat. The chief was told that by having accepted the Russian coatof-arms, he would now enjoy the benevolent protection of the Russian empress who would "defend" the area from other European intruders. To demonstrate to these other visitors that he was now loyal to Russia, Yeilxak was told to wear the metal crest on the outside of his garments. In fact, the next day after this solemn ceremony, he came back to the ship wearing his newly acquired decoration and asking to be given a printed portrait of the heir to the Russian throne, which had caught his fancy on the previous visit. The Russians happily obliged and used this

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

request to emphasize once again that the chief was now under the "protection" of the Russian crown and, as such, had to be treated in a friendly manner by the visiting Russian and foreign ships-a statement to this effect was inscribed on the picture given to him. The Chilkat leader was very pleased and, to show his appreciation, presented the Russians with an iron amulet which looked like a raven, six sea otter shirts, and several other beautiful items of Tlingit manufacture, at least one of which seems to have been decorated with crest designs (Shelikhov 1971:105-6). Traveling further south, Izmailov and Bocharov encountered another group of Tlingit in Lituya Bay, where they had a similar encounter with a party headed by a chief they called Taik-nux-Taxtuiax (ibid.:109-1O). These initial Russian encounters with the Tlingit are significant to our study, because they involved a number of key symbolic acts which continued to be performed by both sides throughout the R A C era. The Russians persisted in their search for and courting of the local "head chief" whom they could use as a reliable ally and intermediary in their trade and other forms of interaction with the rest of the inhabitants of the area. They also insisted on this chef's acceptance of the symbols of state sovereignty as a way of gaining his allegiance and preventing other European powers from doing the same. The fact that the Tlingit had leaders and headmen willing to accept such royal gifts suggested to the Russians that this society was a rather sophisticated one; they were equally impressed with the Tlingit trading skills. Here was a wealthy "tribe" to be reckoned with, even though, in the words of Izmailov and Bocharov, "their mores seemed to be rude" (Shelikhov 1971:102). Unfortunately for the An60shi, villages and kwaans did not have a single headman, while even at the clan level the Russian choice of the "head" chief was often erroneous; it took them several decades to develop a better understanding of Tlingit sociopolitical organization (cf. de Laguna 1983:80 ). The Tlingit, in turn, must have been pleased with the first Russian visitors, who came to trade in a friendly manner and were clearly acting "respectfully" vis-a-vis the Native aristocracy. Of course it is very unlikely that the Tlingit clan leaders understood what the Russian empire's royal sovereignty or imperial "protection" really meant,6 but they could definitely tell that they were being presented with gifts of great prestige-made of a highly coveted material and depicting the double-headed eagle. They must have perceived these objects as the newcomers' own crests or valuable decorations (cf. Grinev 1991:99; Henrikson 1991; Dzeniskevich 1992). This would explain why Yeilxak gave the Russians a small image of his own raven crest in return 7 as well as several other crestbearing objects of value. Similarly, he must have understood that the portrait he requested and received was that of a high-ranking Russian aanyadi. In other 47

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words, from the Tlingit point of view the Russians behaved properly-showing an understanding of and respect for the hierarchical nature of Tlingit society and the fundamental principle of balanced exchange. Despite the amicable nature of this first encounter, the next one, which occurred four years later, demonstrated that when Russian behavior was interpreted differently by the Tlingit they were quite willing to fight with their newly acquired trading partners. In 1792 Baranov himself embarked on an expedition aimed at exploring Prince William Sound and "pacifying" its Native inhabitants. His party consisted of 30 Russian promyshlenniks and 300 Kodiak Natives traveling in 150 small kayaks. On June 20 he was camped on Hinchinbrook Island, near what was soon to become the site of his company's post of Nuchek. He had sent almost all of his men across to Montague Island to put up a big supply of fish because he planned to winter in the sound, and had with him only sixteen Russians and an unspecified number of Kodiak Natives as well as twenty "Chugach" hostages that he had taken from the three main villages in Prince William Sound. Izmailov's ship, St. Simeon, was anchored nearby. Baranov knew that there were some "Chugach" people hiding from the Tlingit on a nearby island of Ochok and was planning to visit them the next day (Tikhmenev 1979:27-37). In the middle of the night his camp was suddenly attacked by a Tlingit-Eyak war party. Baranov's 1793 report to Shelikhov's describing the attack (Tikhmenev 1979:29) vividly illustrates the fear that the fierce, well-organized, and wellarmed Tlingit warriors instilled in the Russians and their Native allies. The Tlingit attack was stopped only after the Russians fired three shots from a small cannon. The Kodiak Natives, who saw that their spears and arrows could do nothing against the attackers' armor, ran away in panic, jumping into their baidaras and trying to sail away while the enemy continued to stab them. The fight continued until daybreak and Baranov's party was getting ready to retreat when Izmailov finally came to their rescue. The Tlingit then sailed away in their large canoes. This skirmish could be characterized as a stand-off. Baranov lost two Russians and nine Kodiak people; there were also fifteen wounded (Khlebnikov 1979:25). The Tlingit had captured four of his "Chugach" hostages but had themselves lost at least a dozen warriors. One of the mortally wounded attackers captured by the Russians told them that the Tlingit party consisted of men from Yakutat as well as some Eyak who had come to avenge a wrong done to them the year before by the "Chugach" who had made a raid and killed many of them. The attackers mistook the Russians for the "Chugach," but decided to fight them anyway, hoping to capture rich booty. This confrontation demonstrated to Baranov what a formidable adversary he

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

had finally encountered. Here was a group of terrifying "savages" who attacked at night using their own native weapons and whose armor could withstand European gunfire. 8 Moreover, the Russians found out that their newly subjugated Native servicemen not only represented a rather unreliable force in this type of confrontation but that their presence could provoke a Tlingit attack. Despite his first encounter with the Tlingit being so unpleasant, the chief manager, determined to extend Russian sovereignty over the Northwest Coast all the way south to Vancouver Island and explore new sea otter grounds, in 1793 sent another hunting party of 180 baidarkas under the leadership of Purtov to explore the area south of Prince William Sound. The expedition went as far as the Yakutat Bay but did not establish contact with the Tlingit there due to mutual suspicions and distrust developed after the 1792 incident. One year later an even larger hunting expedition, headed by Purtov and Kulikalov, was sent from Kodiak into the territory of Yakutat kwaan, so rich in sea otters. Once again Baranov's objectives included sea otter hunting as well as "pacification" of the coastal inhabitants (accomplished by obtaining hostages) and extending the Russian colonial venture further south. Purtov and Kulikalov reached Yakutat Bay where the Natives hunted sea otter while their Russian employers negotiated with the local Tlingit leader as well as a "chief' from the neighboring Dry Bay kwaan. The negotiations were observed by the crew of Chatham, one of the ships of the 1794 Vancouver expedition. According to its captain, the leader of the Yakutat people "exerted his utmost eloquence to point out the extent of their territories, and the injustice of the Russians in killing and taking away their sea otters, without making them the smallest recompence" (Vancouver 1801:402). After the headman had enumerated his grievances, he gave Purtov a sea otter skin and, once the Russian leader had accepted it, "a loud shout was given by both parties: this was followed by a song, which concluded the introductory ceremonies" (ibid.). De Laguna (1972:156) believes that Purtov's acceptance of the gift might have indicated to the Yakutat people the Russian recognition of their hunting rights-had Purtov been better versed in Tlingit law and ceremonial protocol, he might have arrived at the same conclusion. With some of the tension thus removed, negotiations continued, with the Russians berating the Tlingit for the 1792 attack on Baranov's party. The Tlingit did not deny their involvement in the raid but blamed it on their longstanding hostilities with the inhabitants of Prince William Sound. While the amount of trading between the Russians and the Tlingit was rather limited this time (which must have disappointed the Tlingit and contributed to the resumption of mutual suspicions and tensions toward the end of this visit), the other forms of interaction between the two parties are very significant be49

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

cause they illustrate the Tlingit success in forcing the Russians to act in accordance with the indigenous ceremonial protocol and fundamental principles of reciprocity and balanced exchange. Thus, while the Russians continually asked for hostages as a way of preventing future hostile acts, so did the Tlingit, demanding to be given Russians and relatives of high-ranking Alutiiq leaders rather than ordinary hunters. Of course the Russians were very reluctant to give up their own men but seemed to have few qualms about leaving their Native servicemen in Yakutat. In return for what they considered to be high-ranking hostages, the Tlingit presented relatives of their own aristocratic leaders. The Russian insistence on taking hostages made sense to the Tlingit because of their own tradition of hostage exchange as a prerequisite for peacemaking. After an initial exchange of hostages, the Tlingit sent the Russians a symbol of friendship-three staffs decorated with eagle feathers as well as sea otter skins. In the spirit of reciprocity, the Russians offered staffs decorated with beads (Tikhmenev 1979:49). As a result of this gesture of good will and "respect," the Russians were asked to come ashore, but before they could land a ceremonial dance was performed by their hosts on the beach. Immediately thereafter, the Tlingit showed their own great "respect" for their visitors by having twenty men carry the Russian baidarka all the way to their village where they were offered a lavish feast (ibid.). That was how important visitors from another community would have been treated if they had come to attend a potlatch or another major ceremony. Responding to the Russian criticism of their 1792 attack and wishing to demonstrate their friendship, the Yakutat chief made them an offer of some land, which Purtov and Kulikalov interpreted as being given the right to the entire Yakutat Sound and the small islands in it. Such a generous offer is very hard to believe; it is more likely that the local leader was giving the Russians his clan's permission to establish a trading post or a settlement in the bay. This is actually what the oral tradition in Yakutat, collected by de Laguna (1972:164, 259), appears to indicate. Despite the Tlingit hosts' generosity and the Russian willingness to treat them "with respect," mutual suspicions persisted, with both sides demanding more and more hostages. What must have made the Russians particularly nervous was the fact that they saw numerous guns, lead, and powder in Tlingit possession which had been received from British and American trading vessels in return for furs (Tikhmenev 1979:50 ).9 It seems that, while the Tlingit were definitely interested in trading with the Anooshi, they remained opposed to the Russian practice of sea otter hunting in their own "territorial waters," especially since the hunting was done by their old Alutiiq enemies. After lengthy negotiations most of the Kodiak Islanders captured by the Tlingit had been exchanged for their own 50

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

people held hostage by the Russians. However, the last party of four Kodiak men was never returned, which forced Purtov and Kulikalov to depart from Yakutat Bay with a group of fifteen Eyak and Tlingit hostages. If Tikhmenev's (1978: 35) information is accurate, they may have been baptized at the Russian settlement on Kodiak by the newly arrived missionary party. If that was the case, they must have been the first Tlingit to join the Orthodox Church. lO As Grinev (1991:104) points out, this expedition became the prologue to the establishment of Russian settlements in Tlingit territory, first in Yakutat and a few years later in Sitka. Following Shelikhov's instructions, Baranovwas expanding his company's activities further south along the coast, driven by competition from other Russian fur trading companies, the decline of the sea otters north of the Lingit aani, and the fear of European (particularly British) commercial competition and territorial expansion (cf. Fedorova 197P04-47). The year 1794 also marked the end of the first stage of the European-Tlingit contacts (cf. Grinev 1991:104). Between the mid-l77oS and the mid-1790S, the Tlingit of several southern, northern, and Gulf of Alaska kwaans had been visited by the Spanish, the French, the British, the Americans, and the Russians and had become actively engaged in the fur trade which brought them raw metal and metal tools, firearms, highly valued European clothing (used mainly by the aristocracy), and various other new material goods, and gave them a taste of European food and probably liquor as well. They clearly appreciated the new opportunities for trade and maintained generally peaceful relations with the newcomers, except when the latter appeared to infringe on Tlingit property rights or seemed to be in alliance with their old enemies. Along with trade, the Tlingit clearly enjoyed the "ceremonial" aspect of this interaction-in that respect the Russians, with their Aleut and Alutiiq servicemen, were the most attractive visitors, even if their trading goods were not the best.

War and Peace: The Establishment of Russian Settlements in Yakutat and Sitka After the 1794 expedition to Yakutat, Baranov, following Shelikhov's instructions (Andreev 1948:338-45), decided to establish a permanent settlement there." Shelikhov envisioned the new settlement as a breadbasket of his company's American empire and possibly its future capital. To develop agriculture and cattle-herding in Yakutat, up to thirty families of Russian settlers were supposed to be sent there. The first party was sent there in the spring of 1795 and, because of an unwarranted poaching by some of its members in the Tlingit sea otter hunting grounds, it received a hostile reception from the Yakutat people and 51

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could not come ashore (Grinev 1991:105). In August 1795 Baranov himself arrived in Yakutat. Having been initially given a hostile reception, he decided to demonstrate to the local inhabitants the power and accuracy of the Russian guns and cannons. He also planted the crest and flag of the Russian empire amidst gun salutes, beating of drums, and shouting of "hurrah," while his men were drawn up in formation and performed military maneuvers. The local Tlingit must have been impressed by the pomp and ceremony surrounding the arrival of the Anooshi chief. In any event, in Baranov's own words, the firing of guns and cannons contributed to the establishment of "peaceful" relations between the Yakutat Kwaan and the Russians (Khlebnikov 1835:28). Baranov's high status in the eyes of the local Tlingit was demonstrated by the fact that he was able to obtain a high-ranking hostage, the "son" (sister's son?) of the local "chief," reciprocating by leaving nine Russians and three Kodiak Natives as well as an Aleut woman interpreter ashore (Tikhmenev 1978:43). From Yakutat Baranov sailed south through the straits of the Alexander Archipelago. On several islands located in the territory of the Sitka Kwaan, he set up large crosses with an inscription "Russian territory." Not surprisingly, his highly "disrespectful" behavior (i.e., failure to ask permission of the local inhabitants to post his "crests" in their territory) did not please the Tlingit. Thus the inhabitants of the place he called "Krestovskaia" (Cross) Bay did come to trade furs with the Anooshi but "were unfriendly and even tried to lure the ship into a narrow strait where it would have been in greater danger" (Tikhmenev 1978:43). At other locations Baranov apparently conducted more amicable trade and visits with the local leaders. Khlebnikov (1835:29) reported that the Russian leader, having become better acquainted with the "Kolosh," gave them a more positive characterization than his predecessors did. This evaluation became a standard one for many later Russian observers, especially those who had enough time to get a better understanding of Tlingit life. In Baranov's words, "these people are numerous, strong, and audacious, with an inclination to trade and barter"; he also described them as "hardworking hunters" who "with their ability to borrow European customs and their innate intelligence ... have quickly learned to use firearms" (ibid.). In late June 1796 Baranov arrived in Yakutat, while a group of settlers (serfs) was brought there by another ship under the direction of Polomoshnyi (Grinev 1991:106). The newly arrived parties were reunited with the Company people, who had spent the winter in Yakutat, and began constructing a fort and a settlement on Yakutat Bay (de Laguna 1972:169). The fort itself was referred to as "Yakutat" while the settlement proper was named "Slavorossiia" ("Glory of Russia") or "Novorossiisk" ("New Russia") (Grinev 1991:253). 52

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The Tlingit must have been impressed with the size of the Russian party and especially its substantial firepower. They must also have been pleased when the Russians finally formally acknowledged the Yakutat Kwaan's ownership of the local hunting grounds by asking permission to use them. Consequently, they seem to have decided to establish friendly relations with the newcomers. For that purpose, an older man with his entourage, whom the Russians considered "the main chief' of Yakutat, visited Baranov as a typical friendly Tlingit visitor would, that is, in full array and with his party engaging in a great deal of singing and dancing. According to the archival materials cited by Grinev (1991:107), his name was Xatkeek or Xatkeik, while Baranov referred to him in his letters as "The Old Man" and "The Chief." De Laguna suggests that he was the head of the Kwaashk'ikwaan clan of the Raven moiety. His clan would have had a lot of influence in the area, including a great deal of say in the matter of sea otter hunting in Yakutat Bay (de Laguna 1972:167), but only in the eyes of the An60shi was he the "head toen" of the whole area. During the meeting between the Russians and the Tlingit toens, Baranov, not satisfied with his guest's assurances of friendship and peace, asked the old aristocrat to turn some of his relatives over to the Russians as hostages. The man obliged and then something strange happened. According to Tikhmenev (1861:54-55), who reported the entire encounter, "Because of the toen's advanced age, the Natives asked that his nephew be chosen in his place. As a sign of his irrevocable elevation to this office, the Natives asked that he be given a paper signed by Baranov." Grinev (1991:107) cites documentary evidence indicating that this nephew was, in fact, the high-ranking hostage given to Baranov at Yakutat one year earlier, whom he had taken to Kodiak. There he had the Tlingit aanyadi baptized and given a Christian name "Feodor," with Baranov acting as his godfather. Having spent a year on Kodiak, this man, the first Tlingit whose "conversion" to Orthodoxy is well documented, must have learned some Russian and may have come under a certain influence of Baranov. In fact Grinev speculates that it was under some pressure from Baranov that Feodor's clan decided to install him in place of his aging uncle (ibid.). This hypothesis is hard to prove at this point. However, the fact that "chief Feodor" (as the Russians called him), linked to the Russian aanMawu (head man) through what might have appeared to the Tlingit as a quasi-kinship relationship (see below), had already developed strong ties to the powerful newcomers might have increased his status and prestige in the eyes of his own as well as other clans of the area. An official paper given to him by Baranov might have also been seen as a powerful crestlike object that Feodor had been able to obtain from his new allies. Eventually such documents received from the Europeans, and especially the Russians, became very popular with the Tlingit 53

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aristocracy (see below). It is possible that the Kwaashk'ikwaan were using a normal process of chiefly succession to strengthen their own ties with the Russians vis-avis other clans of the area. Of course, contrary to the Russian expectation, they were not proclaiming their vassalage to the An60shi-according to the local oral tradition, they expected to be paid for the land on which Novorossiisk was being built (de Laguna 1972:259).n Despite the fact that Baranov seems to have overestimated the good will of the Kwaashk'ikwaan, his use of baptism as a mechanism of establishing alliances with individual Tlingit men of high rank seems to have helped him here, as it did later on in his relationships with other Js.waans. Thus, according to Grinev (1991:107), "toen Feodor" remained rather friendly with the Russians, and his special ties with them might explain the fact that very few of his clan relatives were engaged in the 1805 attack on Novorossiisk organized and led by the Tlaxaik-Teikweidi (see p. 67). After spending two months in Yakutat, Baranov obtained eleven new hostages from the Tlingit and sailed to Kodiak with them (Khlebnikov 1835:36). For the Russian party the winter of 1796-97 was a very difficult one-over twenty people died of scurvy. In addition there were constant conflicts between the head of the promyshlenniks, S. F. Larionov, and the chief of the settlers. The latter's abuse of the local inhabitants contributed to the rise of anti-Russian feelings in Yakutat. The local Tlingit must have been drawn into his conflict with Larionov, since, according to Baranov's own writing, Xatkeek and Feodor were both asking him to return to Yakutat and straighten things out (Grinev 1991:108). Eventually Baranov was forced to recall the settlers' chief from Yakutat, replacing him with another manager, but the hostility against the An60shi must have remained, as the Yakutat revolt ofl805 demonstrated. While Baranov, in his efforts to establish a Russian settlement and fort in Yakutat, was following Shelikhov's directives, his own eyes were set on an area further south. As early as 1796 he had Captain Shields explore the Sitka Sound, where the settlements of the Sitka Js.waan were located on what the Russians first called "Sitka Island" and what eventually became known as "Baranof Island." One of these settlements, on the site of the present-day town of Sitka, had a good harbor which non-Russian trading vessels had already been frequenting. During his visit to Sitka, Shields came across an English ship under the command of Captain Barber engaged in trade with the Tlingit and exploration of the area. The man perceived by the Russians to be "the head chief" of the Native settlement complained to Shields about Barber's treacherous and, what I would call, "disrespectful" behavior. The Englishman had allegedly invited this Tlingit aristocrat to his ship and feasted him but then ordered him put into irons and would 54

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not set him free until his relatives had redeemed him with sea otter pelts. In return, the Tlingit captured one of Barber's sailors. Baranov had instructed Shields to win the sympathy of the Sitka leaders with gifts and try to induce them to send some of their relatives as hostages to Kodiak (Khlebnikov 1861:42; cf. Tikhmenev 1978:44-45). Beginning in 1796 large parties of baidarkas came to the Sitka Sound area where their hunting and trading activities generated thousands of sea otter pelts for the Shelikhov-Goiikov Company. Sitka's favorable location, its year-round ice-free harbor, the wealth of its sea otter resources, and fear of competition from the British and the Americans encouraged Baranov to establish his next settlement there. In July 1799 he reached Sitka Island where two Russian vessels had been waiting for him. Baranov immediately began negotiating with the heads of the Kiks.adi, the most influential local clan, which claimed to be the original founder of the main villages in the Sitka area, including Noow Tlein ("Big Fort"), located on top of and around a rocky outcrop.1 3 According to Klebnikov's 1833 description of the founding of the Russian settlement in Sitka,14 the two leading men of the Kiks.adi were Skautlelt (Shk'awulyeil) and Skaatagech' (n, with Koukhan (Koop:'aan) being another prominent clan leader with whom Baranov negotiated. The heirs and successors of these three men, whose names are frequently mentioned in subsequent Russian documents and the pages of this book, were K'alyaan (Shk'awulyeil's sororal nephew), Naawushkeitl, and Koop:' aan. The negotiations seem to have proceeded quickly and successfully, so that on July 15, 1799, the Russians were able to lay the foundation of their fort, which they named after St. Michael the Archangel,15 on a coastal site located a few miles north of the present-day town of Sitka. By the time fall set in, the fort had not yet been completed, forcing Baranov to spend the winter in Sitka with a party of 30 Russians and 100 to 120 Aleuts and Alutiiq (Khlebnikov 1835:48). Having learned a bitter lesson in 1792 during the Tlingit attack on his party, and realizing that the well-armed Tlingit settlements were much better protected from Russian attacks than those of the Unangan or the Alutiiq, Baranov pursued a policy of caution and appeasement in Sitka, especially since his own forces there were rather modest (cf. Grinev 1991:110) and because he understood that the Tlingit did not expect the Russians to settle permanently (Tikhmenev 1863:113). Using gifts and feasts offered to local leaders, he was trying his best to win their support for or, at least, tolerance of his venture. Having correctly identified Shk'awulyeil as one of the most influential Kiks.adi leaders, Baranov showered him with special gifts and attention, and on March 25, 1800 presented him with a standard imperial copper coat-of-arms as well as a certificate (Russian otkrytyi list) stating that the land on which St. Michael was being built had 55

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been voluntarily ceded by the Tlingit to the Russians (Khlebnikov 1835:53-54). The fact that the Russian documents referred to this Kiks.adi headman as "Mikhail" or "Mikhailov" (Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1990a:13) suggests that, like the Yakutat leader "Feodor," he might have consented to subject himself to the baptismal ceremony. If that were the case, the chief manager himself might very well have served as his godfather in a ceremony of lay baptism, as he had done on several previous occasions when high-ranking Native Alaskan leaders were baptized. A possession plate and imperial crest were buried on the site of the fort sometime soon after its establishment as symbols and proof of Russian sovereignty over the area (Henrikson 1991; Kan 1979-95)}6 While Shk' awulyeil and his clan seem to have given Baranov provisional permission to build a few houses on their land in return for his "respectful" treatment, they were not pleased with the scale of the Russian activities, clearly aimed at establishing a large-scale permanent operation in the midst of their territory, which involved the use of firewood, fresh water, fish, and other resources. Therefore, during the winter of 1799-1800 the Tlingit visited the fort several times ostensibly to dance but carried daggers under their blankets "just in case," and it was only the precautions taken by Baranov and his crew that averted bloodshed (Tikhmenev 186P47; Khlebnikov 1861:44). The old animosity between the Tlingit and the Alutiiq as well as the poaching by these Native hunters in the Sitka is.waan territory further aggravated the situation. As Emmons (n.d.:lO) points out, the Tlingit must have realized that, with their superior sea otter hunting techniques and especially their light water craft, the "Aleuts" had substantial advantages over them in hunting sea otter. In addition, Tlingit visitors from other kwaans were making fun of the Sitkans, accusing them of having submitted to the Russian rule. These visitors, whom Baranov had not tried to court as much as he had courted the local Kiks.adi, were particularly prone to seek a confrontation with the An60shi settlers (Khlebnikov 1835:53-54; Tikhmenev 1979:113). It is possible that they were also jealous of the Sitka people, who were in a better position to trade with the Russians than they were. When in April 1800 Baranov had to return to Kodiak, he appointed Medvednikov to be the head of the St. Michael fort and instructed him to continue to treat the Tlingit with caution (K Istorii ... 1957:96-98). The instruction also mentioned that the Russians in Sitka were supposed to demonstrate their gratitude to the Tlingit for having allowed them to occupy their land. He also insisted that R A C workers would not show their prejudice against the "Kolosh" who were, in his words, "vindictive either by nature or because of the barbaric customs inculcated in them" (ibid.). The Russians were forbidden to take anything by force and had to make an effort to host and court the leading local

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

Tlingit, showing the same generosity to them as the Tlingit had shown to the Russians and the Kodiak Natives. The chief manager went on to list the names of several clan leaders, elders, and shamans with whom he must have already established friendly relations. To remind the Tlingit constantly of the Russian "kindness," they were to be given small but frequent gifts. Baranov's instruction demonstrates his good grasp of the local social and power structure,'7 especially in his insistence that Medvednikov maintain particular caution when members of the powerful Kaagwaantaan clan visited St. Michael. With the establishment of the RA C fort in Sitka, a large Russian hunting party, consisting of somewhere between 250 and 450 baidarkas, began visiting the entire Alexander Archipelago every spring to conduct a sea otter hunt. A smaller local party was also outfitted every spring at the St. Michael fort. Whenever these parties came across Tlingit settlements, they presented local leaders with gifts and tried to establish friendly relations. Unfortunately for the Russians, they could not compete with the quality and quantity of the trade goods offered by the English and especially the Americans. In the second half of the 1790S, the Americans, called "Waashdan Kwaan"18 by the Tlingit, became their main trading partners who purchased large quantities of furs throughout the straits of the Alexander Archipelago and even in the vicinity of the St. Michael fort.'9 The Yankees were able to offer the Tlingit more goods and better-quality items than the British20 and especially the An6oshi. The American ships were the ones that brought massive amounts of European goods to the Northwest Coast-cloth and clothing, axes, knives, kettles, sugar, and liquor (Langsdorff 1812, bd. II:75; Gibson 1992). The liquor trade was a particularly sore point with the Russians, since they not only refused to trade alcohol to the Tlingit but themselves suffered a shortage of a substance that had always been an important part of Russian social life and was considered to have medicinal purposes as well. Guns and ammunition were among the most popular trade items, with the Tlingit themselves insisting that the continuation of the sea otter fur trade was contingent on every American ship bringing some 60naa (Tlingit sing. "gun, rifle") used for hunting as well as warfare (Golovnin 1864, vol. 5:173). A number of small cannons were also obtained by the Tlingit from the Waashdan Kwaan. Much of this mutually advantageous trade was conducted peacefully, although occasionally the Tlingit would bear some grudge against a particular Yankee ship (or the one immediately preceding it) and attack it (Howay 1973=35). While the Tlingit clearly preferred the goods offered by the Americans, it appears that the latter were not as keen on treating the "Indians" with as much "respect" as the Russians did. Although Native visitors were undoubtedly feasted on board the Yankee ships, the scale of these banquets and the number of gifts presented to the visiting aristocracy 57

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

did not match Baranov's "generosity." Some English and American captains were outright rude and undiplomatic. Having no permanent settlements in the Lingft aani, they were concerned with profit only and less willing to spend their time and money on courting numerous local headmen and aristocrats. During this time the Russians conducted very little trade with the Tlingit, unable to match the variety of the goods that the British and especially the Americans were offering, and refusing to trade firearms for security reasons. The goods that they could offer were much more expensive than the Yankee ones, because of a very high cost of shipping them from Russia to Russian America and because such shipments took a great deal of time (Tikhmenev 1979:114). As Grinev (1991:114) points out, a significant portion of the small number of Russian goods that did reach the Tlingit were special gifts made to the visiting local dignitaries. Finally, the Russians themselves were not particularly interested in obtaining furs from the Tlingit, preferring instead to get them at much lower cost from the "more dependent" Native Alaskan groups (ibid.).

1802-21:

The Tlingit Revolt and Its Aftermath

The existing Tlingit oral traditions and the Russian accounts of the Tlingit revolt against the Russian occupation tend to present two rather different pictures of the scale of the Native attacks and especially the degree of coordination between the various clans and kwaans. On the one hand, the local oral tradition in Sitka (de Laguna 1972:172; Jacobs 1990; Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1990a:6-12; Kan 197995) and Angoon (de Laguna 1960:145-48) tend to stress that the attack on the St. Michael fort was undertaken mainly, if not exclusively, by the Kiks.adi, whose pride had been particularly hurt by the Russian behavior following their settling in their territory in 1799. The credit for the destruction of the St. Michael fort is also taken by that group. According to Jacobs (1990:3) as well as several of my own Sitka consultants (Kan 1979-95), members of the powerful Kaagwaantaan clan, the "inlaws" of the Kiks.adi, were not involved. We know that at least one high-ranking Sitka leader was a close ally of the Russians and did not take part in the 1802 attack; because of that, after the Tlingit's eventual departure from Sitka in 1804, he could not join his kwaan in their new fortified settlement on Chatham Strait but had to live with his family apart from everyone else (see below) (Langsdorff 1812, bd. II:117). On the other hand, the various Russian eyewitness accounts and subsequent reports tend to indicate that the revolts in Sitka in 1802 and Yakutat in 1805 as well as smaller confrontations with the Russians in several other locations during this period were the result of a coordinated and well-planned effort by many 58

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kwaans, from the most southern to those of the Gulf of Alaska. This is the conclusion that Grinev (1991:124) arrived at, having carried out a thorough analysis of the published as well as some previously unknown archival materials. De Laguna (1972:17) initially doubted whether Tlingit society, with its strong clan loyalties and pervasive divisions based on kinship ties and location, could master the kind oflarge-scale campaign that Grinev (1991:124.) calls "possibly the largest Native uprising in the entire history of Russian America." However, in her recent comments accompanying the Emmons' (1991:327) monograph, de Laguna expresses a different view, echoing Grinev. In her words, the 1802 attack on St. Michael "was the climax of a long-planned attempt, involving clans from many tribes [kwaans 1: Henya, Stikine, Kuyu, Kake, XootsnoowU, Hoonah, Sitka, Chilkat, and even Yakutat and the Kaigani Haida to rid themselves of the Russians and their Aleut sea otter hunters."21 I tend to favor a middle position, which is the view expressed by most of the Sitka Tlingit in more recent times: I believe that while some coordination of efforts of various clans and kwaans must have taken place, each kinship group involved tended to see these confrontations as their own private wars, and there were plenty of clans that stayed out of the entire affair altogether (Kan 1979-95; cf. de Laguna 1960:146-48; Jacobs 1990:4). I focus on the confrontation in Sitka because it was the most significant one from the point of view of subsequent Tlingit-Russian relations. In fact, for many generations of Russian and Creole inhabitants of Sitka (Novo-Arkhangel'sk), even as late as the 1900S, the "battle of Sitka" remained what Fogelson (1989:143) calls an "epitomizing event,"22 and every time Russian-Tlingit relations deteriorated, the memories of 1802 were refreshed by recounting the vicious attack of the "bloodthirsty and treacherous Kolosh" on the peaceful inhabitants of St. Michael. For the Sitka Tlingit the event also remained of utmost importance, although, as we shall see, its symbolic as well as practical implications for the Kiks.adi, on the one hand, and the Kaagwaantaan (and other clans), on the other, were quite different. Grinev (1991:114-24) and the Dauenhauers (1990a) suggest several major grievances that might have inspired the Sitka Tlingit to carry out the attack. To begin with, there was the Russian trespassing in Tlingit waterways for the purpose of obtaining the sea otter, the most valuable resource of the Tlingit-European trade. The Tlingit themselves emphasized this serious complaint against the An60shi in their negotiations with Kuskov and his hunting party near the Dry Bay settlement in May of 1802, a few months before the sacking of St. Michael (K Istorii ... 1957:107). The second complaint voiced by the Native leaders in the same negotiations was the "Aleut" hunters' systematic robbing of Tlingit cemeteries which often contained furs and other valuables (ibid.). For the people who showed so 59

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much "respect" to their ancestors, such behavior of the "Russian slaves" was not only insulting but sacrilegious. In addition, a document cited by Grinev (1991:118) suggests that the RAC'S Native servicemen helped themselves to the Tlingit supplies of dried fish. In Sitka, there were also more specific tensions that must have contributed to the Tlingit decision to attack. Both the local oral traditions (e.g., Jacobs 1990:4; Kan 1979-95) as well as Davydov's (1812:110) account mention that some of the Russian promyshlenniks were holding the local Tlingit in contempt and, contrary to Baranov's instructions, took Tlingit women by force, instead of either purchasing them (if they were slaves) or offering gifts to their families, which would have been interpreted as an indication of the Russian men's intention to marry the women. 23 There was also anger because of the killing of several prominent Tlingit men by Aleut and Alutiiq hunters during the summer of 1801 in retaliation for numerous deaths of their own people due to shellfish poisoning which they must have attributed to powerful evil magic used by the Sitkans (K istorii ... 1957:120). Finally, both Davydov (1812:110) and the Sitka oral tradition indicate that the persistence of this and other forms of "disrespectful" treatment of the local Natives (especially the Kiks.adi) was causing the Tlingit from other kwaans to make fun of the Sitka people, comparing them to the "Aleut slaves" of the Russians (Jacobs 1990:4; Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1990a:7). Of course, there was nothing more insulting to a Tlingit, and especially an aristocrat, than being compared to a slave or called a coward. Grinev (1991:119) also suggests that another reason for the Kiks.adi decision to attack the Russian fort in Sitka was a simple desire to obtain rich booty, as well as the warriors' wish to glorify themselves in battle. Since, with Baranov's departure, the Russians in Sitka appeared to be no longer interested in "showing respect" to the Tlingit and maintaining a relationship of fair and balanced exchange, they became fair game for the Kiks.adi men seeking glory and prestige on the battlefield. After several violent confrontations with the Russians in 1801 and early 1802 (K Istorii ... 195n08-11, 120; Grinev 1991:115), a large party of well-armed Tlingit under the direction of Shk' awulyeil, the head of the Kiks.adi and possibly the first baptized Sitka person of high rank, attacked the barracks at St. Michael, where half of the Russian garrison had barricaded itself, while the rest of the Russian inhabitants of the fort were away pursuing various economic activities. It appears that Medvednikov and his people had lowered their guard and had not maintained the security of the fort, as Baranov had instructed them to do, and ignored rumors about an impending raid which had been brought to them by some friendly Tlingit. It is also quite possible that some of the Tlingit women living with the Company men sided with their blood relatives instead of their 60

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new "in-laws" and were supplying their kin with information about the day-today situation at the fort, thus helping the Tlingit war party choose the most suitable time for an attack. The Russians attempted to resist the attack but were greatly outnumbered. 2 4 The Tlingit burned the fort and all of the other structures down, killing all of its male defenders and capturing women and children as well as a large booty of sea otter pelts. The Tlingit oral tradition's account of the destruction of St. Michael focuses on the heroic valor of several high-ranking Kiks.adi warriors, and particularly Shk'awuyeil's nephew, K'alyaan, who dispatched the An60shi and their Native workers with a dagger as well as a new-style weapon, a large hammer obtained from a Russian blacksmith, and wore a striking Raven helmet, which eventually became an important crest of his clan and will continue to reappear in our narrative. 2s A few days after the fall of St. Michael, Captain Barber's ship Unicorn arrived in Sitka Sound followed by two American ships. The Englishmen picked up several Russian and Native Alaskan survivors of the massacre. Three days later Unicorn was visited by Shk' awulyeil and K' alyaan for the purpose of trade. Barber, known for his unscrupulous behavior and love of profit, seized the two Kiks.adi aristocrats and their party and announced that he would not release them until the prisoners and the fur captured during the sacking of the fort were turned over to him. To underscore the seriousness of his threat, Barber, with the help of the Americans, fired at the Tlingit canoes and sank several of them-a number of Sitkans drowned while some were rescued by an American captain and later exchanged for the Kodiak women from the destroyed fort. The Tlingit had no choice but to relinquish their booty and most of their prisoners. A smart businessman, Barber kept the furs and turned the captured prisoners over to Baranov at Kodiak for the handsome sum of 10,000 rubles paid to him in furs. 26 The Russians, from Baranov's contemporaries to Soviet scholars and popular writers, tend to blame the 1802 "Sitka battle" on the hostile agitation and material support of "foreigners." In fact there is some evidence to support this theory: one of Kuskov's reports to Baranov mentions that the crew of an American ship, which had spent the winter near the Xutsnoowu settlement, openly encouraged the local Tlingit to attack St. Michael, saying that if they would not do that, American ships would stop visiting them, since the local sea otter population would eventually be destroyed by the RA c's Native hunters (K Istorii ... 1957:119; Tikhmenev 1979:139-40). Grinev (1991:119) is the first Russian author to be skeptical about this "foreign conspiracy" theory, which had become the official R A C explanation of the 1802 incident. He is correct, in my view, in arguing that the Tlingit had enough grievances of their own against the R A C operations in 61

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Sitka (and later in Yakutat) and did not need the Americans to tell them how to act vis-a-vis the Russians. The British and Yankee guns did make the attack more effective, but the 1792 attack on Baranov's party demonstrated that in a wellorganized surprise attack they were capable of inflicting heavy casualties on the An60shi with or without the firearms. Regardless of the role played by the Americans and the British in the events of 1802 or the degree to which the various Tlingit kwaans had coordinated their anti-Russian actions, the destruction of St. Michael was undoubtedly a major event not only in Tlingit but in R A C history as well. The Company lost a substantial number of its workers and its access to rich sea otter hunting grounds. In fact, as Grinev (1991:124) argues, the events of 1802 slowed down further Russian expansion along the coast of southeastern Alaska and beyond. To continue its operation in Lingit aani and restore his reputation among the Tlingit as a powerful An60shi headman, Baranov simply had to recapture Sitka. However, due to the lack of resources and manpower, he could not immediately set out to do that. In addition, increased Tlingit-Russian tensions in Yakutat demanded his personal presence there in 1803 and an increase in the size of the local Russian population (Grinev 1991:124-25).27 Only by 1804 was he able to put together an expedition strong enough to confront his enemies in Sitka. For that purpose he had mobilized 120 Russians and about 900 Native Alaskan hunters (Lisianskii [1812] 1947=156). Two small ships were to accompany the expedition, with two more waiting for it in Sitka Sound. As was to be expected, by that time the fragile coalition of Tlingit kwaans had begun to fall apart. Old inter clan disputes were stronger than the common antiRussian sentiment. According to Grinev's (1991:125) data, the first to break with the coalition were the Dry Bay and the Xutsnoowu kwaans, who sent their emissaries to Baranov to seek reconciliation. 28 In June 1804, when Baranov's flotilla sailed through the Inside Passage ofthe Alexander Archipelago, it encountered little resistance. It appears that he took a round-about way to get to Sitka in order to visit a number of settlements whose inhabitants must have participated in the attack on St. Michael and teach them a lesson, that is, demonstrate the power of the Russians and their resolve to avenge the deaths and injuries inflicted upon them two years earlier (ibid.).29 Upon hearing about the coming of the An60shi war party, residents of these villages, unable or unwilling to confront the enemy without outside help, hid in the woods. Baranov did not attack any of the empty settlements, except for the houses and fortifications of the Kake and Kuiu kwaans on Kupreanof Island, who had allegedly played an active role in the 1802 sacking of the Russian fort (Tikhmenev 1863:183; Khlebnikov 1835:81-

62

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

82). Upon his arrival in Sitka, Baranov met with the Russian warship Neva, commanded by Lisianskii. In the meantime, the Kiks.adi and the Eagle moiety clans linked to them through marriage, fearing major retaliation for their 1802 attack on the Russians, had already abandoned their nearby villages, including Noow Tlein,3 0 and relocated some six miles to the south in a heavily protected fort at the mouth of the Indian River, where shoal water prevented enemy ships from coming close to shore (Emmons 1991:328). The site of the new fort came to be known as Shiksi Noow ("Sapling Fort") (Jacobs 1990:4). On September 18 Baranov landed near Noow Tlein and decided to establish his new fort and settlement at this location, which was more advantageous than the one chosen for St. Michael. The Tlingit, hoping to rely on the thick walls of the palisade at their own new fort and on previously captured small cannons, were preparing to defend themselves. Lacking sufficient ammunition, they sent a party to XootsnoowU to obtain gunpowder. On the way back, the canoe carrying the powder exploded and most of the men in it were killed, while several survivors were captured by the Russians}' What followed was a series of skirmishes and negotiations between the two parties, which periodically broke down. The Tlingit refused to agree to Baranov's demands that they surrender the fort, give up the previously captured Kodiak hostages, and provide their own high-ranking hostages. On October 1, 1804, Russian ships came as close to the shore as possible and began bombarding the fort. In the meantime a party of Russian sailors from the Neva came ashore with a cannon and also began firing at the Tlingit. The latter responded with powerful gun and cannon fire of their own. An assault on the fort by Russian sailors and Alutiiq hunters was repulsed. According to Native tradition, Kalyaan once again demonstrated great bravery in hand-to-hand combat with the Russian invadt;rs and their Native "slaves" (Jacobs 1990:5). For several days the enemies exchanged fire, but on October 2 the Tlingit began peace negotiations by returning their Kodiak captives and sending some aristocratic hostages to stay on board the Russian ships. Not having received the reinforcements from XutsnoowU that they had hoped for, the defenders of the fort decided to abandon it on October 7 (Lisianskii 1947 [1812] :159-60). While the Russian accounts explain the hasty departure of the Tlingit as a consequence of their realization that eventually the Russians would capture their fort, Tlingit oral tradition emphasizes the symbolic or "other-than-human" causes of the Sitkans' retreat (Jacobs 1990:5; Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1990a:9-12). According to the latter, much of the misunderstanding between the Russians and the Tlingit and the breakdown in their negotiations was caused by

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

the poor performance of two Tlingit women who must have been staying with the Russians at the old St. Michael fort and volunteered to serve as interpreters and mediators. One of them was probably a Tlingit slave woman from the south purchased by the Russians to serve as an interpreter. The other may have been a high-ranking woman of the Eagle moiety (Jacobs 1990:4). If that was the case, she was acting as a typical affine, that is, mediating between her Russian allies (affines?) and her Kiks.adi "opposites." Unfortunately the women misinterpreted the meaning of the white flag hoisted by the Russians. They told the inhabitants of the fort that the Russians were about to "wipe them out clean as snow" (ibid.:5). In the words of Mark Jacobs, a knowledgeable Tlingit elder who had learned this version of the story from his Kiks.adi grandfather, "This was frightening news and, being of a superstitious mind, they decided to go [away],,crossing the Baranof Island and seeking refuge in the territory of their relatives in the XutsnoowU kwaan (ibid.). Thus the Tlingit version of the 1804 "battle" refuses to admit defeat or give the Russians much credit for taking over the "Sapling Fort" -the Tlingit are described as having themselves accidentally exploded their supply of powder, and their retreat is attributed to the fear of an unknown and presumably powerful object of the Russians. The Russian accounts, especially the subsequent embellished ones, on the other hand, extolled the bravery of Russian sailors and promyshlenniks and, to a much lesser extent, their Native Alaskan servicemen, in a battle aimed at avenging the injuries of 1802 and replanting the Russian flag on the Sitka shore. Although only a few Russians and Tlingit died in this confrontation, the decision made by the Kiks.adi to retreat and, before retreating, kill the very young (whose crying might have attracted the Russians) and the very old (who, like the infants, might not have survived the arduous journey across the island) had significant repercussions for these original settlers of the Sitka kwaan. While the Kiks.adi could continue to claim that they did not loose the battle at the "Sapling Fort," the fact of the matter was that the Russian flag was flying on top of their former settlement at N oow Tlein. Even more tragic for them was the loss of many of their own relatives as well as those children whose mothers belonged to the clans of the Eagle moiety intermarried with them. According to a wellknown but rarely discussed Sitka tradition, the Kiks.adi were obligated to repay the various branches of the Kaagwaantaan clan for the lives of its infants lost in 1804. Apparently the clan was unable to do so and, in retaliation, the Kaagwaantaan laid a claim to an important landmark in Sitka which remains "unredeemed" to this very day.3 2 The argument that the Kaagwaantaan did not fully share the Kiks.adi clan's hostility toward the Russians was underscored by the

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

fact that, according to the Sitka oral tradition, it was a certain high-ranking Kaagwaantaan leader, married to a Kiks.adi woman, who helped negotiate the 1805 peace treaty between Baranov and the Sitka Kwaan, acting as a typical Tlingit brother-in-law (Kan 1979-95). When the Russians finally landed at the site of the "Sapling Fort," they took the cannons and the canoes as well as the food supplies, and then burned the structure down (Lisianskii 1947 [1812]:161-62). The Tlingit who escaped established themselves on the eastern shore of Chichagof Island in Chatham Strait where Xutsnoowu Kwaan relatives of theirs gave them permission to build a new fort, named Chaatlk'aa Noow ("Little Halibut Fort") (Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1990a:9; de Laguna 1960:148). The Russian recapture of Sitka must have made a strong impression on Tlingit far beyond Baranof Island. Thus a few weeks after the destruction of the "Sapling Fort," the XutsnoowU people sent one of their headmen to Sitka to make peace with the Russians. This ambassador of his Kwaan tried to distance himself from the Sitka people and even allegedly asked Baranov's approval of his Kwaan's decision to allow the Sitkans to settle in its territory. To this request, Baranov replied diplomatically that he had no intention to interfere in the internal affairs of the Tlingit and was only interested in living in peace with everyone. After the battle of 1804 many Tlingit communities in the vicinity of Sitka began fortifying their settlements and increasing their purchase of guns and cannons from the visiting Americans. Despite the tensions that characterized Russian-Tlingit relations in the aftermath of Baranov's victory, in the winter of 1804-5 he began making peace overtures to the Sitka Kwaan Tlingit, sending interpreters with gifts to their new fort on Chatham Strait and inviting them to come and visit the new Russian settlement of Novo-Arkhangel'sk. Despite their mutual distrust, each side needed the other-Baranov had to insure that his new fort would not be constantly harassed by vindictive "Kolosh," while the Tlingit remained interested in trading with the occupiers. Finally, in the summer of 1805 the exiled Sitkans began visiting Baranov. First some "friendly Sitka chief" and a group of other aristocrats came to visit the Russian establishment on Castle Hill as well as Lisianskii's ship. The man's son (sister's son?) had apparently been kept as a hostage by the Russians for quite some time and had been well treated. The visiting headman and his party were greeted by Baranov's Native workers with a great deal of ceremony, similar to the ritualized reception of high-ranking outof-town visitors by their Tlingit hosts. Thus, before he could land, the Alutiiqs performed a dance on the beach and then carried the visitors ashore rather than letting them wet their feet upon landing. The visitors reciprocated with their own

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dances and songs, performed in their canoes before landing, on shore, and later on board the Neva. Lisianskii received the Tlingit leader in a friendly manner and offered him a feast. In response to the Russian officer's reproach for the attack on the St. Michael fort in 1802, the visitor replied that he had been opposed to the attack and, having failed to persuade the other Sitkans not to attack, departed for Chilkat. To demonstrate his goodwill and generosity, Baranov sponsored a large feast in which the visiting Tlingit as well as the Native workers of the Company took part. The leading guests were invited to Baranov's house for a separate banquet, and each received a tin medal and a blue robe made of flannelet and decorated with marten skins from him; the head of the delegation was presented with more prestigious gifts-a red robe with marten skins and a copper Russian coat-of-arms decorated with eagle feathers and ribbons (Lisianskii 1947 [18l2]: 199-201). I have cited the details of this event to emphasize how well Baranov understood Tlingit ceremonial protocol and the hierarchical nature of Tlingit society, and how well aware he was of the kind of prestigious gifts that the indigenous aristocracy was particularly fond of. This "respectful" reception offered to the first aristocratic visitor from the exiled Sitkans undoubtedly inspired the next visit, which took place a week later when K'alyaan himself arrived in Novo-Arkhangel'sk. Before landing at the new Russian fort, the great warrior sent a fox fur blanket as a gift to Baranov and asked to be received with the same kind of ceremony as had been granted to his predecessor, "the friendly toen." Unfortunately, the Russians could not oblige him, because their Native hunters had already departed in search of sea otters and there was nobody to sing and dance for the visitors}3 K'alyaan was disappointed, since he and his people were anxious to demonstrate their own dances to the RAC'S Native workers. Baranov treated K'alyaan well but not as warmly as the previous visitor-the bitter memories of 1802 and 1804 were hard to put aside so quickly. In the course of discussing the hostilities of the last few years, K'alyaan allegedly "admitted his guilt" and promised to be friendly toward the Russians in the future. Despite this lukewarm reception, he stayed in Sitka for several days, with his party staging nightly dancing. He finally departed with a handsome supply of gifts given to him by Baranov (Lisianskii 1947[18l2] :204-5).34 The oral tradition of the Sitka Tlingit (Jacobs 1990:5) corroborates Lisianskii's account of these visits by stating that soon after the 1804 confrontation a peace treaty was concluded between Baranov and the Kiks.adi, with the latter turning Castle Hill over to the Russians in exchange for a copper coat-of-arms. As Jacobs (ibid.) explained, the Russian double-headed eagle was interpreted by the Tlingit to mean the following, "From now and forever, we will be brothers. You look

66

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one way, and we look the other way." Once again, the indigenous tradition insists that a valuable peace of ground was not lost by them but was given to the Russians through reciprocal exchange in which neither party could claim to be superior to the other. Despite these obvious attempts by the Sitka Tlingit to reestablish their ties with Baranov, more troubles lay ahead for the RAC, both in Novo-Arkhangel'sk and Yakutat. Sometime in late August or early September 1805 a large RAC hunting party on its way from Sitka to Kodiak learned from some Tlingit about a recent sacking of the Russian fort in Yakutat (Khlebnikov 1985:45; Grinev 1991:131). Once again, the RAC headquarters tried to pin the blame for the Native attack on the arms obtained by the Yakutat kwaan from the "Bostonians." An "inclination towards bellicosity and cruelty" of the Tlingit was also invoked in Company documents referring to the Yakutat disaster (Grinev 1991:131). However, as Grinev (ibid.) points out, this time there was no evidence at all of any "foreign conspiracy."35 The fall of Novorossiisk was a big material loss for the RAC and a major blow to the morale of its chief manager and his lieutenants. The fort in Yakutat was never reestablished and for the next decade Russian-Tlingit relations were characterized by ambiguity-a combination of mutual suspicions, tensions, and occasional open confrontations, but also with a clear determination by both parties (and particularly the Russians) to resume peaceful trading relationships. In the aftermath of the events in Yakutat no sea otter hunting party was sent out of Novo-Arkhangel'sk in 1805/1806 and its Russian and Native inhabitants suffered from starvation and scurvy. No ship carrying supplies visited them that winter either, and they did not dare to venture away from the fort in search of fish and other food, fearing an attack by the well-armed "Kolosh." Every spring large groups of Tlingit from several kwaans arrived in Sitka Sound to fish for herring, which this area has always been rich in. This annual gathering, with its potential for renewed hostilities, must have been a frightening experience for the people of N ovo-Arkhangel' sk.3 6 At the same time, Tlingit delegations, similar to those witnessed by Lisianskii in 1805, continued to visit Novo-Arkhangel'sk. Thus in 1806 Langsdorff (1812:111) observed a group of such visitors who behaved very much like a party of guests arriving at a potlatch in another Native village (cf. de Laguna 1972:619-3; Kan 1989a:44). Standing in their canoes, their leaders delivered long orations emphasizing that the Tlingit had once been enemies of the Russians but now wanted to make peace with them. They refused to land until "Nanok" (the Tlingit version of Baranov's name)37 or some high official delegated by him would come to the

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beach and invite them to land. Eager to reestablish peaceful relations, Baranov feasted his guests, although only the headmen and other prominent guests were allowed to enter the fortifications on the hill. Despite their proclamations of peace, the Tlingit guests mistrusted the Russians: although they lacked brandy, they rejected a Russian offer of same because, in Langsdorffs words, "they see the effect that it produces, and are afraid that, if deprived of their senses, they should fall into the power of the Russians" (1812:111). This mixture of diplomatic overtures and mistrust, an interest in visiting one's former adversaries and fear of being overtaken by them was also typical of an interaction between two Tlingit clans in the aftermath of a major violent confrontation when they were still unsure whether further bloodshed would occur or peace prevail. Baranov himself made another attempt to reestablish more peaceful relationships with the Sitka Kwilan people now residing in the "Little Halibut Fort" on Chatham Strait. Taking advantage of the permission given by them to Langsdorff and his party to visit the new fort, Baranov sent a request to his adversaries to "send some young [unmarried] women" (Russian pI. "devki") to NovoArkhangel'sk. Unfortunately for Baranov and his love-starved promyshlenniks, the Tlingit refused to oblige-by Tlingit standards, his request was definitely not a "respectful" one (Grinev 1991:239). In the spring of 1807 the situation at Novo-Arkhangel'sk became grave again. People from several Tlingit Kwilans, numbering about 2,000, arrived in the vicinity of the fort to fish for herring but also, according to information supplied by the Tlingit women living with the Russians, to attempt an attack. The inhabitants of the fort found themselves under a "Kolosh" blockade. The rumor of an attack being planned was confirmed when the Tlingit captured several Aleuts and tried to induce them to betray their Russian employers/masters (Khlebnikov 1835:115-16). Kuskov, who was in charge of the fort while Baranov was visiting Kodiak, decided to preempt the Tlingit strike by breaking the fragile coalitionhe invited the head of the Chilkat party to the fort and, by lavishing him with gifts and food, managed to convince him to depart from Sitka in peace along with all his men (ibid.). Nevertheless, RAC'S renewed attempts in the late 1800s to send out sea otter hunting parties failed due to Tlingit opposition (Khlebnikov 1985:45). Several hunters were killed in skirmishes with the Tlingit (Khlebnikov 1985:46). Subsequent attempts to engage in trade with the Tlingit inhabitants of the "straits" of the Alexander Archipelago failed as well-in exchange for furs, the Indians demanded firearms, the sale of which was officially forbidden in Russian America (Grinev 1991:138). The general nature of the Tlingit attitude toward the Russians was characterized by Tikhmenev (1978:154) as follows: 68

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The Kolosh, although they were careful to offer no pretext for open hostility, used every opportunity to harm the Russians, stealing and murdering, particularly when company employees were traveling through the straits. In such cases the culprits were always clever enough to cover their tracks and were almost never exposed, despite careful investigation. The matter would invariably end in mere negotiations with the chief and fruitless assurances that the unfriendly actions would cease in the future.

The decline of sea otter hunting in southeastern Alaska undoubtedly contributed to the expansion of the RAC'S operation to the coast of northern California, which it began to explore in 1803, and the eventual establishment of a Russian settlement at Fort Ross in 1812.38 Once the Russians stopped most of their sea otter hunting in Tlingit waters, relations between them and the local Natives began to improve. There were still occasional reports of the Tlingit plotting attacks on Novo-Arkhangel'sk, (Tikhmenev 1861:240; cf. Donskoi 1893:826), but an increasing number of aboriginal visitors were coming to the Russian fort to trade. Baranov remained cautious and would not allow them to live near the fort or even on nearby islands-they could only spend the day near Novo-Arkhangel'sk and then they had to return to their distant camps and settlements. Only occasionally was a trusted Tlingit party allowed to establish a temporary camp near Novo-Arkhangel'sk and spend a few nights there. Despite these restrictions, Branov's efforts to "show great respect" to the visiting Tlingit and his noninterference in their internal affairs (which he himself admitted to be an inevitable consequence of the numerical inferiority of his garrison) earned him recognition, if not admiration, among his former enemies. The chief manager's understanding of the world view of the Tlingit helped him cultivate an image of a great leader with superhuman power. Thus, according to the local tradition (presumably a Russian-Creole one) collected by a Russian missionary in Sitka in the 1880s-90s, after several attempts on his life, Baranov began wearing a metal chain-link shirt (Russian kol'chuga) under his outer garments and would sometimes ask a Tlingit hostage or visitor to shoot arrows at him (Donskoi 1893:824). His apparent invulnerability contributed to his image of a powerful shaman or sorcerer. Thus stories circulated among the Tlingit that he could be seen flying through the air. According to one of my own older friends, Charlie Joseph, Sr., a Kaagwaantaan, the Tlingit respected Baranov, referred to him as a Russian shaade haani (lit. "the one at the head of us," a term usually applied to high-ranking heads of kinship groups), and were saddened by his departure from Alaska (Kan 1979-95). While the view of Baranov

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may not have been fully shared by the Kiks.adi, we do know from Khlebnikov (1973:99) that the "Kolosh who had trembled before him, but respected his bold and decisive spirit, parted from him with a strange mixture of joy and sadness." Russian sources as well as the Tlingit oral traditions testify that representatives of several kwaans gathered in Sitka in 1818 for a special ceremony of farewell to "Nanok."39 Baranov's ouster from the position of the chief manager of the R A C and his replacement by a captain of the Navy appointed directly from St. Petersburg represented the end of an era in the history of Russian America. From now on Company operations became much more orderly and regularized, with its chief managers and their lieutenants at least as concerned with serving the interests of the Russian state as with earning a profit through commercial operations. For a few years after Baranov's departure, Russian-Tlingit relations remained a mixture of trading and hostile encounters, and only in the early 1820S did they improve significantly. Thus, when in 1818, soon after Baranov's departure, two Russian promyshlenniks were killed by the Tlingit not far from Novo-Arkhangel'sk, the murderers were never apprehended (Grinev 1991:139). Several unsuccessful attempts to attack the Ozerskii Redoubt, a small new Russian establishment located not far from Novo-Arkhangel'sk, were also made by the Tlingit (Lazarev 1950:238; cf. Veniaminov 1972:49).40 At the same time, in the mid- and late 1810S a few attempts to resume trade with the Tlingit were made; for example, a special vessel was sent into the straits of the Alexander Archipelago. Despite these efforts, the shortage of European goods made it impossible for the R A C to compete with American fur traders plying southeastern Alaska waters-the prices offered to the Tlingit by the Waashdan Kwaan people and the array of trade items they could offer to the inhabitants of the Lingit aani were much better than those of the An60shi (Litke 1834:108). During the first two decades of the nineteenth century, the Americans became dominant in the Lingit-Gus'k'ikwaan trade, displacing both the Russians and the British. As Grinev (1991:141) points out, the RAC company frequently complained to the imperial government about the "smuggling operations" of the Yankees, but negotiations between St. Petersburg and Washington did not change the situation, since the u.S. Government was not interested in interfering in its private citizens' free trading activities on the Pacific Coast, while the tsarist government did not wish to jeopardize its good relations with the United States for the sake of defending RAC'S Alaska operations. Despite persisting tensions between the Tlingit and the Russians in NovoArkhangel'sk, the former continued visiting the area in the spring to fish for herring when over one thousand people congregated not far from the walls of the 70

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Russian fort; in the summer a smaller but still substantial number of Tlingit fishing for salmon also arrived. In 1818-21, Company officials continued Baranov's policy of allowing some of the more trusted visitors to put up temporary camps not far from the Russian settlement but not to settle there permanently (Khlebnikov 1985:186). During such visits, the heads of kinship groups and other aristocrats continued their traditional visits to the fort and the Russian vessels anchored nearby. The Kiks.adi were undoubtedly prominent among the Tlingit visitors to the Sitka shores. After a decade and a half of exile from their beloved ancestral land with its abundant resources, they were probably anxious to come back. Thus Vasilii Golovnin (1965:138) reported that in 1818 K'alyaan, the great warrior, visited his ship, proclaiming his friendly attitude toward the Russians and blaming his uncle (Shk'awulyeil?) for forcing (?!) him to take part in the 1802 attack on the St. Michael fort. The Company officials continued Baranov's policy of courting his clan, so that during this particular visit he was presented with a silver medal; at the same time between 1817 and 1819 his brother (Saiginax?) was being held in the Novo-Arkhangel'sk fort as a hostage (ibid.; see also Khlebnikov 1985: 2 94). It appears that under Baranov's replacement, Hagemeister, a more peaceful

relationship between the Russians and the Tlingit at Novo-Arkhangel'sk was established by means of a transaction that clearly resembled a traditional Tlingit peace ceremony and was actually imposed on the Russians by the Indians. According to Tikhmenev (1978:154-55), when Hagemeister decided to put a stop to Tlingit hostilities against the Russians by demanding hostages from the Native visitors to Sitka, the latter replied that they would never agree to this until they had received hostages from the Russians. This meant that the Tlingit were insisting on a relationship of balanced reciprocity-the only kind of exchange that was recognized as legitimate and "respectful" in their own culture. In this case, the new chief manager (now called "governor") decided to follow the tradition established by Baranov and make a concession to the "Kolosh," turning two Creole boys over to them in return for some close relatives of a high-ranking headman. Several days later this exchange took place amid great ceremony. For a while this resulted in a cessation of hostilities and an increase in the number of furs obtained from the Tlingit. Soon they brought the Creole hostages back and asked to have their own returned. This did not mean that they were about to resume hostilities; on the contrary, at the conclusion of the traditional Tlingit peace ceremony, ritual hostages, having spent some time among their "captors" and having been treated as highly honored guests, were ceremonially returned to their own people (see de Laguna 1972:592-605). All these examples show that 71

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those R A C officials in Sitka who were willing to continue Baranov's policy of appeasement and "showing respect" to the Tlingit in general, and the aristocracy in particular, tended to be more successful in maintaining peace than those who tried to flex their muscles.

From the Early 1820S to the Mid-1830s-A New Era in Tlingit -Russian Relationships The early 1820S marked the beginning of a new era in the history of the RAC as a whole and its relationships with the Tlingit. At that time the general direction of the Russian colonization of Alaska began to shift from the southern to the northern and northeastern directions, with a special emphasis on exploring the interior of Alaska for the first time. The process of colonization itself became more regularized and less chaotic than it had been under Baranov. The decline of the sea otter population along the Northwest Coast and the competition from the Americans as well as the British, who were beginning to exploit the coast between the mouth of the Columbia River and Vancouver Island, forced the RAC to seek furs in western and central Alaska by establishing trading relations with the Yup'ik (Eskimo) and Dene (Athabascan) peoples of those regions. During this period Baranov's methods of despotic control over and frequent abuse of RAC'S Native workers and other indigenous Alaskans dependent on it were replaced by the Company's more paternalistic and government-regulated "guardianship" over them (Feodorova 1973:135-47) .

The new government regulations issued for the R A C as well as its new charter of 1821, which renewed its privileges for another twenty years, were the product of a more liberal rule of Tsar Alexander I and resembled Speranskii's statutes for governing Siberian Natives, mentioned in the previous chapter. The new ideas of that era were also reflected in the RAC'S own "Rules," which defined the Company's structure, range of activities, rights, and duties. From our point of view, the most interesting part of these "Rules" is its section dealing with the Company's relations with the "independent" tribes, a category which included the Tlingit. The document stated that no attempts should be made to bring the inhabitants of the American coast under Russian control; instead, all means of maintaining their good will were to be used. "No tribute, iasak, or labor duties of any kind could be demanded from them, except for the customary requests for hostages" (Tikhmenev 1978:160). The new Russian attitude towards the "Kolosh" and a drastic reduction in the amount of sea otter hunting in their territory were two of the main reasons for a significant Tlingit-Russian rapprochement in the early 1820S (Grinev 1991:144-45).41 72

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Another major reason for it was Governor (Chief Manager) Muraviev's decision to allow the people of the Sitka lswaan to return home and establish a settlement near the walls of Novo-Arkhangel'sk. According to several sources, Muraviev had decided that if the "Kolosh" were living next door to Novo-Arkhangel'sk, it would make it easier for the Russians to learn in advance about their hostile plans and might prevent major attacks, since the Native village, with its women and children, would be more vulnerable now, being within the range of the Russian artillery (Lazarev 1832:162; Litke 1834:92). Litke (ibid.) mentions another reason for this decision-a severe shortage of women in the Russian settlement, which he calls "a cause of terrible disorder." Muraviev was hoping that liaisons between the R A C workers and Tlingit women would help alleviate this problem and would also provide the Russians with intelligence information about any planned hostile acts by the Natives. It was also expected that the physical proximity of the two settlements would contribute to an increase in trade. The latter expectation was fulfilled-after returning to Sitka, the Tlingit quickly became major suppliers of fresh fish, meat, and other foodstuffs badly needed by the inhabitants of Novo-Arkhangel'sk (Gibson 1987). According to Khlebnikov (1985=136), between 1821 and 1825 the RAC spent about 4,000 rubles annually to purchase furs and food from the Tlingit, while in 1831 this sum increased to 8,000 rubles and so did the amount of trade. Trade was seen by the RAC'S officials as a powerful way of improving its relationship with the Tlingit and eventually bringing them under its greater influence (cf. Grinev 1991:146). For that purpose the governor even increased the amount of goods paid to the Tlingit for each sea otter skin, giving them goods worth three to five times more than what was being paid to the Aleuts and the Alutiiqs. Thus trade with the Tlingit was as much aimed at promoting peaceful relations with them as at profit-making (Khlebnikov (1985=135). The next step in regularizing and promoting this trade was the establishment by the RAC of a special "Kolosh market" immediately outside the walls of NovoArkhangel'sk and next door to the Indian village. Muraviev proved to be correct in expecting that the Tlingit would be willing to return to Sitka and that such return would improve their attitude towards the An60shi. Sometime during 1821 or the following year, the Kiks.adi left their fort on Chatham Strait and rebuilt their winter houses along the shore of Sitka Sound in an area immediately adjacent to the walls of Novo-Arkhangel'sk. Along with them came their traditional marriage partners, several branches of the Kaagwaantaan clan mentioned earlier, who also established permanent houses along the beach but a little further away from the Russian settlement. Thus the layout of the new village of Sitka, which seems to have eventually become the main, if 73

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not the only, consolidated winter settlement of the Sitka kwaan, followed the traditional pattern-with the first pioneers/original owners of the land occupying the most advantageous and prestigious 10cation.42 The fact that the Kiks.adi and their "in-laws" came back, despite decades of hostilities with the Russians and persisting bitterness about the foreign occupation of the site of their original village on Noow Tlein, indicates that by the early 1820S goods obtained in European trade had become an essential part of the Native economy and ceremonial system (see below). Of course one should not discount other factors-the Sitka kwaan people's love of their ancestral land and their eagerness to be able to take advantage of its various subsistence resources. It should be pointed out that the composition of the new Sitka kwaan was not identical to the one that existed prior to 1804. As Emmons' (n.d.) Sitka consultants and other local sources (Kan 1979-95) indicate, the Kiks.adi had been weakened by the events that followed their departure from Sitka in 1804. As I mentioned earlier, they lost a significant portion of their population as well as some of their wealth. Their surrender of the Noow Tlein to the An60shi, even if perceived as a sale, had to undermine their status in the eyes of the other clans. At the same time, other clans increased their presence in the Sitka area. The Kaagwaantaan proper (and not the above-mentioned lineages related to them, such as the Kookhiittaan and two others, sometimes considered separate small clans), whose original homes were in the Hoonah and the Chilkat kwaans, began settling in the new Sitka village in the 1820S and the following two decades. Some Kaagwaantaan lineages received permission from the Kiks.adi to establish permanent houses here as a compensation for some unpaid debts (Emmons n.d.), others were invited simply to live closer to the Raven moiety lineages with which they had been intermarried for quite some time. Finally, sometime in the 1820S, a group of Kaagwaantaan from a major Hoonah kwaan village of Kaax' Noowu ("Grouse Fort" on Icy Straits, which had been badly beaten by a large war party from Stikine kwaan-mainly the Naanyaa.aayee clan of the Eagle moiety) were also invited by the Kiks.adi to relocate to Sitka (ibid.; see also Grinev 1991:145). The Kaagwaantaan, a large and powerful clan, with its branches spread through several major kwaans and its warriors famous for their aggressiveness and bravery,43 soon became a major kinship group in Sitka, constituting, along with the Kiks.adi, the most powerful segment of its population. Several other clans of both moieties (e.g., the Chookaneidi of the Eagle moiety from Hoonah kwaan) also came to Sitka during this time or somewhat later and established their own houses further along the shore. The last to arrive were the L'uknaK.adi, a Raven moiety clan from Dry Bay and Hoonah kwaans, who gradually followed their Kaagwaantaan "brothers-in-law" and established a number of houses in Sitka 74

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sometime in the middle of the nineteenth century (Emmons n.d.). Thus, between the 1820S and the 1850S Sitkq became a cosmopolitan community, the center of Russian-Tlingit interaction, and a magnet for various clans and lineages who came to stay or at least to visit in order to trade with the An60shi. It appears that despite these changes in the social and political structure of Sitka, the RAC continued to pay more attention to the Kiks.adi, courting their leaders, some of whom had been well known to the Russians since the early days of Baranov. During this time Kiks.adi leaders (and their high-ranking Eagle moiety affines?) became frequent visitors to the fort and the ships anchored nearby. They still needed permission to enter the Novo-Arkhangel'sk palisade or climb aboard the Russian vessels. But they were also frequently given medals, certificates, and various other marks of distinction. Being aware of their love of elaborately decorated European garments, Muraviev gave Russian military uniforms, resembling those worn by the hussars of the Akhtyr Regiment, to several Sitka "toens" (Zavalishin, cited in Grinev 1991:147). Several local headmen were baptized in the 1820s-early 1830s, including a prominent Kiks.adi leader, Naushket (also spelled by the Russians as Nauchik, Naushketl', or Naushkekl') (Lazarev 1832:168-69; Khlebnikov 1985:292) who received a baptismal name of "Matvei," which suggests that Matvei Muraviev, the RAC governor himself, was his godfather (see below). From the RAC'S point of view, Muraviev made another smart move when he began encouraging an increase in liaisons between the Company workers and Tlingit women (see Kan 1996). Some of these women were most likely slaves sold by their masters on a temporary or permanent basis to the promyshlenniks (Khlebnikov 1985:139). A few of these "commercial" relationships remained brief and tenuous, but others developed into long-lasting unions. A number of women remained in their own community, and their Russian lovers had to find ways to visit them, which was not easy. In fact, according to Khlebnikov (ibid.), some of the men were so much in love that they tried to run away from Novo-Arkhangel'sk and join their Tlingit in-laws. Finally, there were also a few "commoner" Tlingit women (and perhaps some high-ranking ones) who were allowed by their families to settle in Novo-Arkhangel'sk only after what appears to have been a payment of bridewealth by their Russian husbands. These relationships, rarely sanctified by a church marriage, were nevertheless perceived by the Tlingit and by many of the Russian men as common-law marriages, some of which lasted for long periods of time. In fact, Litke (1948:56), who visited Sitka in the late 1820S, commented that the Tlingit women had a great deal of influence on their Russian husbands and lovers, while the latter were often very fond of them and spent a lot of hard -earned money on dresses and other presents for them. While not all of the Native women 75

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living in Novo-Arkhangel'sk provided information about their Tlingit relatives' plans, as R A C was hoping, they did playa major role in settling disputes between the Russians and their "Kolosh" neighbors (Litke 1948:58). They were also among the first Tlingit, besides the male hostages who had at various times lived on Kodiak and in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, to learn the Russian language, which further improved Ano6shi-Lingit communication. 44 In general, by the late 1820S, with a major increase in contacts between the Russians and the Tlingit, many of them, and especially women, began to speak or at least understand Russian (Litke 1948:76).

Tlingit men also needed this language when they wished to earn some wealth by working for the RAC. In the late 1820S to early 1830S there were a number of such workers-sailors, longshoremen, woodcutters, etc. According to Khlebnikov (1985:93), they were good workers some of whom spent more than a year employed by the RAe; however, they eventually became bored and left; this indicates that they were free men who did not wish to become permanently tied to the Company like the other Native Alaskans living in Novo-Arkhangel'sk. Even these workers were more likely to live in the Native village than behind the Russian palisade. Khlebnikov (ibid.) lists only two Tlingit living there in 1825this figure probably does not include Tlingit women living with Russian men who had been baptized and no longer considered "natural [prirodnyel Kolosh." An increased traffic between the Russian and the Native communities in Sitka further contributed to the proliferation of European goods in Tlingit possession. While it is difficult to evaluate the effect that this was beginning to have on the indigenous sociopolitical system, the few existing pieces of information seem to indicate that the aristocracy remained pretty much in control of the trade which it used to uphold or even increase its status and prestige. Both Golovnin, who visited Sitka in the late 181OS, and Lazarev, who stopped there during the Muraviev era, reported that the Russian uniforms and much of the European clothing in general were worn by the "Kolosh" leaders and not by the commoner men; the latter continued wearing skins and other traditional pieces of clothing, combining them with a few items of European manufacture. The aristocrats, who had more opportunities to visit the Russians, were the first to accommodate European tastes and did not wear facial painting during such visits (Lazarev 1832:169 ).45 The various medals, certificates, and other symbols of distinction that were presented to the aristocracy by R A C officials were undoubtedly reinforcing the traditional social hierarchy (cf. Dean 1995:275-79). At the same time it is possible that some lower-ranking men, who had been successful sea otter hunters, did take advantage of the fur trade to accumulate some wealth and rise in the social hierarchy).46

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

Despite this significant improvement in Tlingit attitudes toward the Anooshi, attested to by several observers (e.g., Litke 1834:1l2; Wrangell 1835:116), at least some of the people of the Sitka kwaan, most likely the younger men trained to be warriors and especially the Kiks.adi, continued to regard the Russians as intruders. Khlebnikov (1985:185), who worked for the RAe in Novo-Arkhangel'sk from 1817 to 1832, reported that the "most wicked" among them continued to make plans about attacking the town, while the bravest ones continued to demonstrate their agility and other talents by sneaking up into the fort from behind an old ship at low tide and, having stolen something from the port, brought it back as a trophy to show to their friends. The latter action suggests that the warriors did not view the Russians as close allies but as fair game for their own demonstrations of military skills. It is quite possible that the older aristocrats who had been courted by the R A C did not fully approve of such raids but, at least, did not try to put a stop to them. Even more telling is the following statement by Khlebnikov (ibid.) which reports that the Tlingit "repeatedly say that we have occupied the places where their ancestors had lived, have deprived them of the profits from hunting, and have been using their best fishing spots." The Russians tried to defend themselves from these accusations by pointing out that they were giving the Tlingit an opportunity to conduct profitable trade, supplied them with necessary goods, showed them how to grow potatoes, and so forth (ibid.). Given this sentiment among the Tlingit, the fort itself as well as the ships in the harbor remained under constant guard, following the elaborate precautions against Kolosh attacks developed during the Baranov era. Russian cannons were always aimed at the Tlingit village, which practice did not promote greater friendship but at least helped the inhabitants of Novo-Arkhangel'sk sleep better at night. Several confrontations between the Russians and the Sitka Tlingit did take place in the 1820S but were peacefully resolved (Veniaminov 1984:433). In the late 1820S, RAe's relationship with the Tlingit inhabitants of the "straits" (i.e., villages of the "Inside Passage" of the Alexander Archipelago) remained equally ambivalent. On the one hand, during that time trading in that area had to be curtailed due to Native hostility. On the other hand, there were reports of the heads of these communities inviting the Russians to settle among them (Litke 1948:55). It seems that these outlying settlements were jealous of the greater trading opportunities that the Sitka kwaan enjoyed. While the inhabitants of the "straits" continued to mistrust the Russians and were especially resentful of any attempts by the RAe to hunt sea otter in their territory, they also wanted to be more involved in the European trade. For some of them, particularly the southern Tlingit of the Stikine kwaan, making a journey to Sitka-which was hostile territory-was too dangerous an undertaking. 47 For that reason a major trading 77

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

expedition organized by Wrangell, the Company's governor in 1830-35, to the Prince of Wales Island and the mouth of the Stikine River was welcomed by its inhabitants (Grinev 1991:148). Ties between the Russians and the Southern Tlingit were further strengthened by the establishment in 1833-34 of the Dionis'evskii (St. Dionysius) Redoubt at the mouth of the Stikine River. Unlike the leaders of the Sitka kwaan, the local Stikine headmen seem to have invited the Russians to settle in their territory or at least gave them permission to use a plot of land for the construction of their fort in exchange for goods paid as well as a silver medal ("Allies of Russia") presented to Kektlsech (Sp.?),48 one of the heads of the Naanyaa.aayee clan which owned that land; a similar medal was presented to his brother, the famous chief Shakes, the richest and most powerful leader of the entire Stikine kwaan (Grinev 1991:148,270).49 It appears that Russian relations with the Naanyaa.aayee and the rest of the Stikine kwaan were much friendlier than those with the Sitka Kiks.adi. In the Stikine case, the burden of past conflicts was not there and, thus, from the Tlingit point of view, the establishment of the fort by the Russians was done in a much more culturally appropriate ("respectful") manner. In addition to its desire to expand trade with the Tlingit into the southern section of Lingit aani, the RAC was anxious to establish a foothold in the Stikine area in order to stop the Hudson's Bay Company's forays into that area. In the early 1830S, this powerful company, which had already established several forts at the mouths of the Frazer and Columbia rivers and was continuing its movement north along the coast, began sending its ships to visit the Alexander Archipelago and even N ovo-Arkhangel' sk. For a while the RAC trade with the Tlingit at the Dionis'evskii Redoubt was substantial and the amount of goods received by the Stikine kwaan people for their furs was 25 percent higher than what their Sitka rivals were getting. The RAC was willing to do this in order to maintain its ties with the Tlingit and keep its H B C competitors out. Kupreianov, the governor of Russian America from 1835 to 1840, permitted the manager of the Dionis'evskii Redoubt to "give the Kolosh something extra" on top of the price paid for their furs; this "extra" (which the Tlingit themselves saw as a sign of friendship and often demanded from their European trading partners) included molasses, crackers, vests, caps, boxes with shaving implements, and red shirts, a very popular item (cf. Veniaminov 1984:429). In addition, previously forbidden items of trade were also given to the Stikines as presents-rum and guns with red butts (Grinev 1991:151). Because of such favorable treatment by the Russians, over 1,500 Stikine people (the majority of the kwaan?) established a new winter settlement right next to the Dionis'evskii Redoubt in 1836 (ibid.). A small permanent contingent of Russians at the fort did not

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

seem to have the kind offear of Tlingit attack that the inhabitants of the capital of Russian America continued to have. In the mid to late 1830s, the RAC, in addition to their trade with the Stikines, tried to strengthen its ties with other Southern Tlingit kwaans (especially Tongass) and even the Kaigani Haida, whose settlements were visited by a wellarmed brig. In 1836-37 several leading headmen of the Tongass kwaan received the same type of silver medals as those that had been given to the Stikine "toens." Despite the success of the R A C' s Stikine venture, in 1839, after several years of negotiations following the "Stikine incident," the entire southern section of the Russian possessions in southeastern Alaska (from Cape Spencer in the north to Portland Canal in the south), including the Dionis'evskii Redoubt, was leased to the British for ten years, with subsequent renewals occurring regularly until Alaska was sold to the United States in 1867. In return, the H B C was supposed to supply the R A C with provisions at moderate prices and pay an annual fee of 2,000 land otter skins. The RAC promised not to trade with the Native inhabitants of the leased territory, while the H B C committed itself not to buy furs from the Tlingit of the area that remained under Russian jurisdiction (Grinev 1991:152-53, 258-59). During the 1820S and especially the 1830S a major improvement occurred in Russian-Tlingit relations. While increased trade and social intercourse were its main causes, Orthodox missionary activities, undertaken for the first time in southeastern Alaska in the second half of the 1830S by Fr. Ivan Veniaminov, also contributed to it. Before turning to these activities, I must try to ascertain what the Tlingit exposure to and understanding of Orthodoxy might have been prior to Veniaminov's arrival.

Tlingit Orthodoxy, 1790s-1834 Given a serious shortage of clergymen prior to the 1830S in all of Russian America (with the exception of Kodiak) and the state of "cold war" that characterized much of Tlingit-Russian interaction during this period, it is not surprising that very few southeastern Alaska Natives showed any particular interest in Orthodoxy or had been baptized until Tlingit-Russian relations improved significantly in the late 1830S and early 1840s. There were some exceptions, however, which have been mentioned earlier in this chapter. From the point of view of the Russians who came in contact with the Tlingit in the 1780s to 1790S, baptism was one of the major ways to establish friendlier relations with the local leadership. As I have discussed in chapter 2, throughout the history of the Russian conquest of Siberia and the Aleutians, baptized indigenous people tended to be perceived 79

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

as spiritually and culturally closer to the Russians than their "heathen" brethren. In some cases they were even classified as "Russian" (cf. Slezkine 1994:48-60). In Eastern Orthodoxy, a layman could perform the sacrament of baptism in the absence of a priest-the ceremony was simply less elaborate and was not followed by the second sacrament of chrismation (miropomazanie) which in Orthodoxy has always been done immediately after baptism and can only be performed by an ordained priest. Whenever a layman administered baptism, a priest would later chrismate the previously baptized Natives when he was able to visit their settlement. The baptism ceremony itself was (and still is) rather elaborate, even though, when performed by a layman, it must have been shortened and simplified. 50 The complete ritual includes four prayers of exorcism recited by the person performing the baptism and aimed at driving the devil away from the individual about to be baptized. The latter is also asked three times to reject the "evil angel" and his works. To symbolize his rejection of the evil of paganism, the person being baptized is required to breathe and spit in the westerly (bad) direction. He is then asked to recite the "Creed" or has it recited for him by his sponsor/ godparent (as is always the case in infant baptism). In the next stage the clergyman prays over and blesses the water about to be used for the sacrament, and anoints it with holy oil; the candidate's forehead, eyes, nostrils, mouth, ears, chest, arms, and legs are also anointed with that oil to sanctify his thoughts, desires, and actions. After that the person being baptized is immersed in water three times, symbolizing the death of the "old person" and a spiritual (re)birth of the new one. This rebirth is also symbolized by a new shirt (ideally a white one) which the newly baptized person is given to wear immediately thereafter. This shirt as well as a body cross given to him (always to be worn on the chest, underneath the clothing) is usually provided by the godparent)' If the baptism sacrament is being administered by a priest, he also usually gives communion to the new member of the Church. The newly baptized person receives the name of an Eastern Orthodox saint: often this is the name of a saint whose feast falls on or near the date of the baptism. However, other saints' names can also be chosen (Fr. Michael Oleksa, personal communication, April 1994). In fact, in the Tlingit case, the baptismal name of the godfather, particularly ifhe happened to be a high-ranking individual, was often the one chosen. The newly baptized individual might also receive a patronymic derived from his godfather's Christian name (i.e., Aleksandr Baranov's godson might receive the patronymic "Aleksandrovich") and could use the godfather's family name. If this was the case, his godfather thus also became his

80

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symbolic Russian father/patron and the ritual itself would have an aura of adoption. In the case of the first known Tlingit to receive the sacrament of baptism, the ceremony was performed either by a priest on Kodiak or by a layman in a Native village. We have already encountered the Yakutat "chief Feodor," who was most likely baptized while being held as a hostage on Kodiak. A number of other Tlingit hostages, from Dry Bay, Yakutat, Sitka, and a few other kwaans-many of them aristocrats-were also baptized there in the 1790S to early 1800s by the recently arrived Russian missionariesY In 1806 several young hostages who were studying at the Kodiak school were baptized by Fr. Gideon (Gedeon). Among them was a Dry Bay man, named Tygik (sp.?), who served as the "chief Kolosh interpreter" of the RAe in Novo-Arkhangel'sk between the 1820S and his death in 1855 and was known as "Niktopolion Gedeonov" or "interpreter Gedeon" (Grinev 1991:197; ARCA, D 412). The names suggest that Fr. Gedeon may have been his godfather. Based on the Russian names used for a number of Tlingit women mentioned in the RAC documents, females were also among the early converts. Some of . them might have been hostages too, while others could have been taken as companions and wives by the promyshlenniks. In the latter case, their intimate relations with the Russian men must have helped them master the Russian language. Filipp Kashevaroff (cited in Grinev 1991:197) reminisced that as early as 1796 two Tlingit women interpreters were living among the Russians, an "Aniushka [Anna?) from Yakutat" and an "Aniushka from Sitka."53 With the establishment of the Russian fort in Sitka, Baranov continued his effort to enlist aristocratic Tlingit men as allies and encourage Tlingit women to come and live with his workers in the St. Michael fort. In both cases, baptism was a symbol of that alliance, an attempt to draw the Native person closer into the Russian sphere. Since there was no priest in Novo-Arkhangel'sk until 1816, baptisms had to be performed by laymen-Baranov himself, his top assistants, or a man named Beliaev, who had some knowledge of ecclesiastical matters and between 1808 and 1816 performed brief religious services as well as the sacraments permitted for a layman in cases of emergency (Kovach 1957:102-l2; Donskoi 1893:826). Baranov's plans for the baptized Tlingit leaders to become "allies of Russia" (as the medals some of them received proclaimed) did not always materialize. Thus, while a young Yakutat toen, Feodor (mentioned earlier), seemed to have been friendlier to the Russians than some of the other members of his kwaan, the leading Sitka Kiks.adi man, Shk'awulyeil, disregarded his ritual bond with the Russians and led the attack on the fort which was protected by the saint (St. Mikhail) whose name he himself had received.

81

EARLY DECADES OF TLlNGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION A question that is difficult to answer is what the Tlingit understanding of Orthodoxy in general, and baptism in particular, may have been during these early decades of contact. Those few of them who had lived on Kodiak could observe and even participate in regular church services. If they had some command of Russian, they could even learn the rudiments of Orthodox dogma and ritual. They could also observe that rituals were an important part of the lives of the promyshlenniks and those Native Alaskans who had already been baptized for several decades. Particularly important were such life-crisis rites as baptism, marriage, and funeral. In addition, they could watch the Russians celebrate numerous feast days (particularly the feast day of the patron saint of a particular Russian settlement), holy days connected with the imperial family, and blessings of ships and homes. Some of them, especially the aristocracy, which had greater access to the Russian settlements, and, of course, the women who lived there, could also observe Orthodox people wearing body crosses and keeping and venerating icons in their homes and on their boats and ships. Many of these Russian men were probably not very pious, but Orthodoxy was an intimate part of their culture and social life. In Yakutat and Sitka, where there were no priests, the promyshlenniks' private religious life was pretty much the same as on Kodiak but only some of these key religious rites and sacraments could be performed. Nevertheless, we do know that Baranov did his best to organize celebrations of feast days and incorporated Christian observances and symbols into such celebrations as the founding of St. Michael, the emperor's birthday, or the local patron saint's day. Although Baranov himself did not have the reputation of a pious man, he appreciated the importance of having a church in his settlements to sanctify the RAe's commercial activities and maintain his people's morale, not to mention the fact that a Russian settlement without a church was something unthinkable in those days. Thus he had a chapel built in Novo-Arkhangel'sk and maintained it with his own and Company funds, and, with the support of the town's residents, petitioned the Holy Synod to have Beliaev ordained as a priest. His request was denied, and only in 1816 did the bishop of Irkutsk assign Fr. Aleksei Sokolov to serve in Novo-Arkhangel'sk. The priest brought with him an icon of St. Michael the Archangel, donated by the RAC'S board of directors, and began serving in the chapel, which was soon converted into a small church named after this patron saint of Novo-Arkhangel'sk (Tikhmenev 1978:146; Donskoi 1893:826). Since most of the Tlingit could not speak or even understand Russian until the 1820S or 1830S and had very few opportunities to observe church services (unless these were conducted in the open air), it is unlikely that they had any clear sense of the meaning of even the most basic rites and dogmas of Ortho82

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doxy. 54 At the same time, being themselves a people for whom elaborate rituals were of great importance, they must have been impressed with the religious processions organized by Baranov. The baptismal ceremony must have been of special interest to them. Immersion into water as an act of purifying the body and washing away unclean substances (including those used by witches) was an important part of the indigenous religious system. The body cross may have been perceived as an equivalent of the various powerful amulets worn and kept by the Tlingit as sources of good fortune (la~eitl) and protection against bad luck (ligaas). The saint, whose name was given to the baptized person, became his guardian angel who was supposed to protect him from evil day and night and, thus, resembled the indigenous tutelary spirit hovering above every Tlingit's head (kaa kinaa yeigi). At least some of the first "converts" to Orthodoxy may have seen baptism as a ritual act aimed at acquiring power and protection against evil as well as strengthening the person's health and granting him or her a blessing (la~eitl). However, the fact that during the first few decades of their interaction with the Russians few Tlingit seemed to be asking to be baptized suggests that such a view of baptism, which most of them developed only in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, was still very rare (see chapter 9). On the other hand, the notion that baptism established a special bond with a Russian sponsor, an idea that Baranov himself promoted, must have been understood early on, because it fit in with traditional Tlingit notions of'balanced reciprocity and exchange as the foundation of social relations. By agreeing to subject himself to this ritual, a Tlingit aristocrat received gifts-not only a clean shirt and a body cross, as was required by the church, but various other items as well. While Tlingit commoners might receive a red calico shirt, some leaf tobacco, and a clasp knife (if they were men) and a length of calico, some leaf tobacco, and a few needles (if they were women), a highranking person received additional gifts of greater value as well as a special written certificate which, along with medals, often presented to the aristocracy at the time of baptism, must have been seen as the Russian equivalent of Tlingit at.6owu and other highly valuable treasures. For this reason, such certificates were often passed to the recipient's matrilineal descendants, even though they were supposed to be returned to the RAC. Along with these gifts, a Tlingit aristocrat who received a name of his high-ranking Russian sponsor established a special relationship with him which could be utilized to obtain additional gifts, to be invited to private feasts, and to be shown other signs of "special respect." Names meant much more than labels to the Tlingit (see chapter 1). They were inherited in the matriline, and most of them were bestowed on the person in the

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

course of a memorial ]soo.(:ex' by his or her matrikin hosting the event. Names could also be bestowed on adopted members of other kinship groups and even on non -Tlingit as a sign of honor and a way of strengthening one's relationship with that person. Certain structural similarities between a koo.eex' and baptism must have been perceived by the Tlingit. In the latter case, the Russians, under the leadership of the godparent and the priest (if he was available) acted as hosts who were adopting their Tlingit ally and giving him/her a name often owned by the godparent himself or herself. The main difference was the fact that the name's recipient, rather than the people witnessing the ceremony (as in the case of the Tlingit potlatch), received the gifts and was treated with a feast, which usually followed the baptism, especially if a high-ranking person was being admitted in the Church. The usual songs, dances, and orations delivered by the Tlingit leaders, including the newly baptized ones, whenever they visited the Russians, might have been seen as their way of reciprocating for the honor of having been given a "high-ranking" Russian name and gifts. The fact that the local Russian society was clearly a stratified one, that those on the top wore very different garments and regalia from those on the bottom and were willing to treat the Native aristocracy differently from the rest of the population, must have also appealed to the rank-conscious Tlingit. The practice of giving a red55 shirt, rather than a traditional white one, to the newly baptized suggests that Tlingit tastes and the customary exchanges of the Tlingit-European trade had a certain influence on the way early baptisms were conducted. What most of the baptized Tlingit were not willing to give their Russian godparents in return for these gifts was their unqualified allegiance-their primary loyalty remained with their own people. With the exception of a few persons who had been living in the Russian settlements for long periods of time, most early "converts" to Orthodoxy were not that much closer to the Russians than their "heathen" relatives. For example, a certain Sitka leader who had been too friendly with the Russians during the 1799-1802 period was ostracized by his kwaan and forced to live away from their "Little Halibut Fort" where they had settled after their departure from Sitka in 1804, "despised by everybody" (Langsdorff 1812:117). At the same time, baptized Tlingit were more likely to be invited to Novo-Arkhangel'sk and, as a result, were more familiar with its inhabitants and their way of life. In fact, according to Donskoi (1893:826) (who must have obtained this information in Sitka from the descendants of the Baranov's promyshlenniks and Native Alaskan workers), those few Tlingit who were eventually allowed by Baranov to establish temporary residences near the walls of the Russian fort were converts to Orthodoxy. An English captain named Belcher, who visited Novo-Arkhangel'sk in the late 1830s,

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

noted that the Russians trusted the baptized Tlingit more, even though their behavior was not different from that of the "heathen Indians" (Khlebnikov 1861:46). It is possible that some of the first aristocratic converts were those younger men who were not yet at the very top of their clan hierarchy but were aspiring to reach it. Hence the medals, certificates, and crosses received from the Russians as well as their special relationships with influential Russian "aristocrats" could have increased their status in the eyes of their clan relatives, as long as they were not seen as Russian agents. This seems to have been the case with a previously mentioned Kiks.adi aristocrat, Naushketl or Naushkekl (usually called "Naushket" by the Russians),5 6 baptized in 1823 and given the same first name as the governor of Russian America at that time, who must have acted as his godfatherY He was known as being friendlier toward the Russians than some of his high-ranking relatives and was a frequent host on visiting Russian ships (Lazarev 1832:168-69). According to Litke (1948:58), he was eager to be baptized, even though Muraviev had told him that "it was not easy being a Christian." The same is true of Mikhail Kooxx'aan, another younger Kiks.adi man who was baptized in 1836 and made the "head chief of the Tlingit" by the RAC in 1842 (see chapter 4). Given the scarcity of church records for this period, it is difficult to establish how many Tlingit headmen and aristocrats were baptized prior to the late 183os, but it seems that their number was small, since RAC records and visitors' accounts usually mentioned that a particular toen had been baptized, yet such references are rare. One intriguing piece of information on the subject is supplied by a recently published diary of Fr. Veniaminov (1993=12), who reported that during his first brief stay in Sitka in 1823-24, he once celebrated the liturgy with Fr. Sokolov, to which several recently arrived Tlingit leaders (toens) were admitted. Two of them prayed in Russian and told the priest that they had already been baptized. 58 The number of Tlingit women admitted into the church was somewhat greater than that of men-most likely the majority of those who lived in common-law marriages with the inhabitants of Novo-Arkhangel'sk had been baptized. This would have been the wish of their husbands-baptism made the women more "Russian" and was seen as something beneficial to the children born of these mixed unions. A Russian wishing to marry a Native woman in the church would want her to be baptized. Since a layman could not administer the marriage sacrament, he had to wait until Fr. Sokolov's arrival in 1816 to have his common-law marriages sanctified. Still, the number of such women is rather small-one or two prior to the 1802 destruction of fort St. Michael and no more

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than a dozen in the 1820S and 1830S, when relations between the Russians and the Tlingit became closer (Blaschke 1971 [1842] :50). Several Russian-Tlingit marriages were sanctified by the Church in the 1820S (Lazarev 1832:166-67), while others remained without its blessing. The number of Creole (Metis) children born of these unions also began to increase in the 1820S, but only some of these children lived in the Russian settlement, while many others stayed with their Tlingit relatives in the villages. In a matrilineal society, such as this one, they did not lose their clan and lineage identity if their father was not a Tlingit, although their status in the social hierarchy could not be high, unless the father was a very high-ranking person (no evidence of such cases exists). In the 1830S and in later years, a few Tlingit women married Aleut and Alutiiq as well as Native Siberian men working for the Company (Grinev 1991:241). The degree of these women's devotion to Orthodoxy is difficult to evaluateopinions of the two clerygmen on the subject which have been recorded are quite different from each other. Thus Fr. Sokolov, who generally held a very pessimistic view of the Tlingit as Christians, told a Protestant clergyman who visited Sitka in the late 1820S that the Tlingit women did not "change their bad ways" after they became baptized and married RAC men (Pierce 1984b:32).59 On the other hand, the more charitable Fr. Ivan Veniaminov (1984:430), who first encountered Tlingit women in the early 1820S and then became much better acquainted with them in the mid- to late 1830S, wrote that "from the point of view of their religiosity" they were still not as devout as the Aleut women but superior to the women from Kodiak and the Creole ones. In fact he found some of them "very knowledgeable and pious." While the RAC officials saw these unions between their employees and Tlingit women as a solution to the shortage of women in its southeastern Alaska settlements, they were still apprehensive about having too many "Kolosh," whose loyalties were not entirely clear, living inside the forts. Different R A C governors had different opinions on the subject. Wrangell was opposed to having RAC employees bring Tlingit women into the Dionis'evskii Redoubt and wrote to its manager that these women might provide their kin with information on the situation in the fort, which would be particularly harmful if they distorted or misrepresented the facts (Grinev 1991:240). Wrangell's successor, Kupreianov, was more realistic and understood that the alternative to having "Kolosh" women live inside the redoubt was disorder and clashes between his men and the local Tlingit. In response to an 1838 inquiry by the manager of the Dionis'evskii Redoubt about the way to treat the baptized Tlingit women living with Company employees, Kupreianov made a revealing reply in his letter, instructing him to 86

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follow the same rules as the ones being used in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, i.e., to consider the baptized Kolosh women, even if they are living in a common-law [illegitimate; Russian nezakonnyi] marriage with the Russians, to be persons who have already separated themselves from the other Kolosh, i.e., their relatives; the latter should no longer have any rights or influence over these women, as long as they are living with the Russians. The same should be true of the children born to Russian fathers and baptized Kolosh mothers-they must be baptized and considered to be completely separate from the Kolosh (Grinev 1991:240-41).

Although some of the Tlingit women living with Russian men may have begun to identify more with their husbands' community, it seems that Kupreianov's view represented wishful thinking-most of these women undoubtedly maintained close ties with their kin in the neighboring communities and some went back there, often taking their children with them. They must have brought some information about Orthodoxy with them as well, although the extent of their knowledge of this subject and of their influence on their nonbaptized relatives is difficult to ascertain (cf. Kan 1996). To conclude, I would say that prior to the late 1830S most Tlingit saw no need to become Orthodox, and even those few who did were unlikely to see their baptism as an act of "conversion," an indication of any significant religious or ideological change. Except for their tools and certain trade goods, the Russians did not appear to the Tlingit to possess any superior knowledge or spiritual! superhuman power which was worth borrowing. With the exception of the Russian "chiefs" and "aristocrats," with whom the indigenous elite wished to have closer ties, the majority of the Russian, and especially the Native, employees of the RA C living in Novo-Arkhangel'sk led a life that could only be interpreted by the Tlingit as poor, unfree, and certainly not enviable. Fr. Veniaminov ([1840] 1972:47), writing in the late 1830s, understood this very well: The behavior of the lower ranking Russian employees of the Company who lived with them [the Tlingit] was a detrimental influence. The [example of the] Aleuts also deterred them [from converting to Orthodoxy]. The Kolosh know that the Aleuts are all baptized, and for the Kolosh this serves, or at least used to serve, as an obstacle and even a warning against accepting Christianity. For the Aleuts in Sitka do not prove that they are Christians by the lives they lead. Unfortunately, they are the least pious [of all the Aleuts]. Living separately from the Russians in special barracks, their material existence is deplorable even to the Kolosh. Furthermore, most Aleuts living in Sitka work for the Company at a fixed wage. Like all other employees, they are wholly dependent upon the management and are put to any

EARLY DECADES OF TLINGIT-RUSSIAN INTERACTION

work for which they are suited. The Kolosh believe that the Aleuts were once just as independent as they are but that baptism turned the Aleuts into Russian slaves

[italics mine J.

At the same time, the Tlingit continued to see the Russian offers of baptism as a sign of friendship. As Litke (1948:58) learned during his stay in NovoArkhangel'sk in the late 1820S, the Tlingit "are now admitting that the Russians cannot wish them any harm, if they are allowing them to worship the Russian God." A very limited effect of Christianity on the Tlingit, especially if compared to that of the Aleut and the Alutiiq, must also be attributed to Fr. Sokolov's inefficiency as a missionary. While "ineffectual" is how his contemporaries (e.g., Wrangell) described him (see Pierce's Introduction to Veniaminov 1984:ix), I imagine that, like most other inhabitants of Novo-Arkhangel'sk, he was simply afraid to venture outside the walls of the fort.60 Like other Russians living in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, he could observe or a least hear about the various "heathen" practices engaged in by the inhabitants of the Sitka Tlingit village just outside the Russian palisade. He could watch their dances and hear their drums, and undoubtedly knew about their shamanic seances and occasional capture and torture of accused witches. Like other Russians, he must have heard about and must have been terrified by the practice of slave sacrifice during the funerals and memorials of high-ranking leaders. Finally, as a priest, he could not be particularly pleased with the practice of polygamy,61 especially common among the wealthy aristocracy. Since the RAC management was equally afraid of admitting more than a few Tlingit into the fort, there were very few opportunities for the latter to watch church services conducted by Fr. Sokolov. Only with his replacement in 1834 by a young and energetic Fr. Ivan Veniaminov, and the beginning of a greater rapprochement between the Tlingit and the Russians in the aftermath of a terrible small-pox epidemic during the mid- to late 1830S, did the situation begin to change.

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4

The Tlingit and the Russian Orthodox Church, 1834-67 From the Smallpox Epidemic to. the Sale of Alaska

lJ

Fr. Veniaminov and the Opening of the Tlingit -Orthodox Dialogue

r r . Ivan (Ioann) Popov (Veniaminov) was undoubtedly the most important figure in the history of the Russian Orthodox mission in Alaska. It was his vision and labor that were largely responsible for the establishment of the Alaska diocese, with him as its first bishop. This son of a rural Siberian church sexton ended his life occupying the most influential ecclesiastical office in nineteenthcentury Russia-that of the Metropolitan of Moscow. In 1977 the Orthodox Church in America "glorified" (i.e., canonized) him as "St. Innocent, Apostle to America, Enlightener of Alaska." A charismatic priest, an outstanding scholar with a variety of interests and talents, and an astute politician, Fr. Veniaminov tried to put into practice a more enlightened approach to missionization which had been advocated by some of his superiors and teachers in Irkutsk but rarely had been put into practice in Siberia (see chapter 2). From the point of view of this study, his missionary work among the Tlingit, which was intertwined with linguistic and ethnographic research, is of particular importance. While his "N otes on the Koloshi" (Veniaminov [1840 I 1984) are not as detailed as his extensive work on Aleut ethnography and history, it is the first attempt to provide a scholarly overview of Tlingit material, social, and especially ideational culture (Kan 1990a)} Because of St. Innocent's stature and his prominence in the history of the Orthodox Church in both Alaska and Russia, a great deal has been written about him, his life and works having acquired a somewhat mythical quality.2 However, critical analysis of his ethnographic and missionary writing has only begun, most of it concentrated on the Aleut portion of his legacy.3 His Tlingit ethnography, which is astute and sensitive but also contains serious errors reflecting the gen-

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eral biases of his time as well as his own intellectual background, has never been seriously examined.4 This work must be analyzed in conjunction with Veniaminov's letters (Barsukov 1897-1901) and other documents he wrote, out of which his own view of Tlingit culture (which combined the existing Russian images of the Tlingit with his own distinct ideas) and evaluation of the Tlingit as potential Orthodox Christians emerge. This image or model had a major influence on his own missionary activities as well as the work of subsequent generations of Orthodox missionaries in Alaska, before and after its sale to the United States. Because of all this, I must examine in some detail Veniaminov's general clerical career and especially his work among and writing about the Tlingit. As we have already seen, the ambitious plans of the New Valaam mission came to an end with the tragic death of most of its members in 1799. No new resident priest was sent to Alaska following that disaster until 1816 when Fr. Sokolov arrived in Novo-Arkhangel'sk to remain there for eighteen years. Only after 1821, when a new charter was negotiated by the R A C, one of the governmental conditions being the maintenance by the Company of a sufficient number of priests in the American colonies,s were new priests appointed to serve in Alaska (cf. Black 1984:xiii). One of them was Fr. Ioann, who became the first parish priest in the Eastern Aleutians in 1824. Ivan Popov was born in 1797 in a small village in the Irkutsk Province to a family of a lower-level clergymen. 6 In 1806 he began attendiIig the Irkutsk Seminary, a major center of clerical education in Siberia, many of its graduates serving as parish priests and missionaries in Siberia and Alaska. Given the province's ethnically diverse population, the young Ivan was undoubtedly familiar with the indigenous Siberians and their own distinct type of Orthodoxy. Despite his humble social background, Popov (whose last name was changed to Veniaminov in 1814 to keep alive the memory of a popular Irkutsk bishop, Veniamin) soon demonstrated his outstanding intellectual abilities and became the best student at the seminary where, in addition to standard theological and liturgical subjects, he studied natural history, geography, physics, Latin, German, and a number of other secular disciplines. Veniaminov's substantial, if rather eclectic, education was later manifested in his views on human nature and society, which combined Orthodox theology with enlightenment rationalism. In 1821 he was ordained as a priest to serve in one of Irkutsk's churches. Irkutsk at the time was a place with strong ties to Russian America, and it was allegedly one former promyshlennik who, with his stories of the simple but devout Aleuts maintaining Orthodoxy without a resident priest, had inspired Fr. Ioann to answer the call of the bishop of Irkutsk7 to go and serve as the parish priest of the island of Unalaska.

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In September of 1823 Veniaminov and his family arrived in NovoArkhangel'sk and were about to proceed to the Aleutians, but a request from the officers of a frigate stationed in Alaska, who were dissatisfied with their own ship chaplain and with Fr. Sokolov, convinced the governor of Russian America to let the young missionary spend the winter in Sitka. From his journal (Veniaminov 1993) it appears that, like the other Russians, Veniaminov did not venture outside the town's palisade. In fact, during his stay in Sitka a serious confrontation between the Tlingit and the Russians was barely averted (Veniaminov 1984:433). His contact with the Tlingit was probably limited to teaching "God's Law" (basics of Orthodoxy) to one or two Tlingit (or Russian-Tlingit) youngsters who were among the students in the local school. He must have also participated in the baptism of a few Tlingit and saw them when they attended services at the local church. When he arrived in Unalaska in the summer of 1824, Fr. Ioann was warmly welcomed by the Aleuts. While their knowledge of Orthodox dogma was quite limited, their religiosity seemed strong and sincere to him. Putting his linguistic skills into practice, Veniaminov learned to speak Aleut and, with the help of several prominent Aleut men, designed an alphabet and translated the Scriptures into that language (Black 1977).8 A man of many talents, Fr. Ioann spent his ten years in the Aleutians not only serving Unalaska and traveling widely throughout the Islands and the adjacent areas to administer the sacraments, but wrote textbooks, taught school, and conducted meteorological, zoological, linguistic, and ethnographic research. His interest in studying the culture of the people whom he served not only grew out of his scientific curiosity but was also a product of a particular Orthodox missionary tradition which emphasized the need for the missionary to learn the local vernacular and understand the religion of the people being converted. These views were summed up in an instruction given to him upon his departure for Alaska in 1823 by Mikhail, the bishop of Irkutsk.9 This instruction, which became the main source ofVeniaminov's own subsequent writing on the theory and practice of missionization, emphasized that the process of conversion had to be a kind of dialogue. The priest, "having already had a long conversation and having established rapport" with the Native people he was visiting, had to ask his hosts ("with curiosity") about their own "law and religious practices" (zakon i bogosluzhenie). Having learned about them, he had to start his own argument about the "falseness [nepravost'] of their opinions, using natural arguments." Although having to reject their religion as false, the missionary was supposed "to listen to them patiently and tolerantly," while telling his own story "without

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rudeness and use of offensive words but in a kind and friendly manner." Only having spent a considerable amount of time in these dialogues with the local people, was the missionary supposed to offer them the sacrament of baptism. While this instruction did not encourage the missionary to tolerate preChristian religious practices (except temporarily) and beliefs or to try to incorporate them into and syncretize them with Christianity, as a number of modern Orthodox scholars seem to be suggesting (Black 1977, 1984; Mousalimas 1990, 1993,1995), it did emphasize that conversion had to be voluntary, without threats or violence. Newly converted Christians were not to be asked to observe fasts and fulfill other religious duties as strictly as the Russians and those Natives who had been Christian for a long time. Like Apostle Paul himself, the missionary was not supposed to force the newly baptized, still weak in their faith, "to turn away all of a sudden from their former customs that were not contrary to Christianity," but had to explain to them that those customs "should not be considered religious." The Ten Commandments (rather than the New Testament) were supposed to be the essence of the newly baptized people's religious observance, that is, old "idols" had to be abandoned and forgotten, parents had to be revered, neighbors loved. While the spiritual goals of Christianization were emphasized throughout this document, the interests of the state were not forgotten either. According to Bishop Mikhail, by enlightening the "lost ones" with the "knowledge of the Saving Truth" and thus pointing the way for them to the "Heavenly Kingdom" and "confirming them in the perfection of faith and true virtues," an Orthodox missionary would also "encourage them to think alike [edinomysliel and be concerned with acting in ways that are beneficial for the State [gosudarstvennaia pol'zal." At the same time, the missionary was not supposed to tell the people among whom he labored that he had been sent to them by a government order but was only to let them know that he had come to show them the way to true salvation "because of the duty imposed upon him as a priest." He was also not supposed to interfere in local governmental property systems. In the 1850S Veniaminov (1899:29) elaborated this idea in his own missionary Instruction, in which he advised the clergyman "not to interfere in settling secular affairs" and "not to undermine any local leaders," whether traditional ones or established by the R A C ("just as Christ Himself did not attack government officials or interfere in property matters"). Only if the head of a post or a redoubt was too cruel in his treatment of the Natives was the missionary supposed to try to change his ways through friendly conversations; if the man remained incorrigible, the clergyman could report him secretly to church authorities who would then make their own report to colonial officials (Veniaminov 1899:36). Acceptance of baptism was not 92

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to be considered the end of the conversion process; only when the new Christians expressed their wish to have a priest sent to live among them and demonstrated their devotion to Orthodoxy through their peaceful coexistence with that priest would their conversion be considered completed. Although in the Aleutians, where most of the people had already been Orthodox for several generations, Veniaminov had few opportunities to put this instruction into practice, he did follow it in his encounters with the Aglurmiut Yup'iks of the mouth of the Nushagak River (whom he visited during his long stay in Unalaska) and in his subsequent labors among the Tlingit and other indigenous peoples of Alaska and eastern Siberia. When Veniaminov was finally transferred to Novo-Arkhangel'sk in August of 1834, he arrived there with not only a great deal of missionary experience but also a strong interest in continuing to collect linguistic and ethnographic data. He also carried with him a model of pre-Christian Aleut religion, which he extrapolated, more or .less, to all of the Native Alaskans, and an image of Aleuts as simple, patient, nonmaterialistic, and pious people, against which he evaluated the Tlingit and other indigenous inhabitants of Russian America as potential Christians. While anxious to begin his proselytizing work among his Tlingit neighbors, Veniaminov favored a slow and cautious approach to missionization. In his writing, from official ecclesiastical correspondence and personal letters to his Instruction to Alaskan missionaries, he argued that a clergyman had to gain the trust of the Native people and get a better sense of their culture and (if possible) language before he could start telling them in simple words (rather than preaching to them) about the "Light of Truth" (Veniaminov 1899:35). Throughout his missionary career in Alaska, Fr. Ioann repeatedly emphasized the importance for the Russian clergy of training local laity to serve as interpreters and catechists (ibid.:3). Eventually some of these persons were to become the new generation of Alaska clergy-American-born Natives and especially Creoles, the new rising social class which was becoming increasingly important for the RAC'S operations in the New World (Oleksa 1990, 1992:127-71). To train such church workers, who would speak to their flock and conduct church services in their own language and have a better understanding of the local culture, Veniaminov established a seminary in Novo-Arkhangel'sk in the mid-1840s. Like Bishop Mikhail, Fr. Ioann approached the Native people's baptism cautiously, insisting that the clergyman had to wait for their own request to be baptized. Veniaminov was also strongly opposed to the prevailing R A C practice of offering gifts to the newly baptized. So determined was Fr. Ioann to eliminate any possibility of material interest on the part of the newly baptized, that he even opposed the giving of new shirts to them, insisting that a simple body cross was all 93

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that was needed (Veniaminov 1899:28-29). At the same time, he insisted that the missionary never ask the Natives for any contributions, although he should accept voluntary ones. lO If he had to rely on the baptized local people for help in his travels, he always had to pay them, so as to insure that they would not conclude that by accepting Christianity they were simultaneously becoming slaves and servants of their "enlighteners." The situation in Sitka was not particularly conducive to this kind of missionary approach. The Russians were still afraid to visit the "Kolosh" village located next door, while the Tlingit wishing to attend religious services at the NovoArkhangel'sk church always had to notify the governor in advance about their number, rank, names, and so on. Thus access to the church was, in Veniaminov's words, "rather difficult even for the highest ranking notables, while for the commoners, and especially for all of them at once, it is utterly impossible" (1984:436). Unhappy with this situation, he nevertheless agreed that it was a good measure of precaution not to admit into the fort a large numbers of "savages" (dikarei), especially during church feast days when most of the RAC employees rested from their regular duties. Such strict measures obviously could not endear the sensitive and easily offended Tlingit to the Russian Church. As a result, with the exception of a few trusted persons residing in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, the Tlingit could attend church services only on feast days, and even those visits were restricted to high-ranking local leaders and out-of-town visitors (ibid.). Excerpts from Veniaminov's journals kept in Novo-Arkhangel'sk indicate that between August 1834 and September 1836 he was able to baptize only nine Tlingit men and women (Veniaminov 1993). Confessional records for 1835-36 (ARCA, D 412) suggest that most of them were residents of Novo-Arkhangel'sk. One was a "newly baptized kaiur" (slave), Vasilii Denisov, who must have been purchased from the Tlingit to work for the RAC, and his common-law (nevenchannaia) [Tlingit?] wife. Several others were most likely Tlingit women living with Russian men-some of them had Christian first names and Russian last names, while others (less likely to be married to the Russians) are listed under their baptismal names and their Tlingit names. Cumulative annual reports on the Orthodox membership at Novo-Arkhangel'sk, the nearby Ozerskii Redoubt, and Dionisievskii Redoubt indicate that no more than twenty or even fewer baptized Tlingit were affiliated with those communities during the same period (ARCA, D 406-7). In addition to these problems, Veniaminov was prevented from beginning his visits to the Tlingit by a variety of other clerical duties having to do with serving a large and ethnically mixed Novo-Arkhangel'sk parish as well as by his scholarly work. In his letters, Veniaminov criticized himself for procrastinating and putting off the task of finally venturing into the Sitka village. Finally sometime in 1835 he 94

THE TLINGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH, 1834-67 began training a Tlingit interpreter, who was a student at his parish school in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, to serve as his assistant in missionary work. From him Veniaminov undoubtedly began learning his first Tlingit words." In the late fall of that year Fr. Ioann, always conscious of and respectful toward the indigenous social hierarchy, had already scheduled a date for an invitation to be sent to the Sitka leaders to come and see him, so as to get their permission to begin visiting their homes with his interpreter and to speak to the village inhabitants." As he wrote in a letter to Litke (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:33), for various reasons he kept postponing that meeting (despite the fact that the RAC governor had offered him his full support in his endeavor), and then a terrible thing happened-a devastating smallpox epidemic struck Novo-Arkhangel'sk and the Tlingit village next door. I3 Described by one modern author "as one of the most significant events in the history of the Native peoples" (Fortuine 1989:230), the smallpox epidemic swept the Northwest Coast and Russian America from 1835 to 1840, spreading from south to north. It arrived in Novo-Arkhangel'sk some time in November or December of 1835, most likely brought by a trading ship. It first spread to the RAC'S Creoles and quickly killed 14 out of 160 affected. No Russians contracted the disease. It should be pointed out that vaccination against smallpox had become compulsory in Russia in the 181OS, which was also the time it was first introduced into Russian America. Many of the priests sent there had been trained to administer it. When a large new shipment of the vaccine arrived in the colonies in 1822, about 200 Creoles and Aleuts were inoculated in Novo-Arkhangel'sk. This must have helped many OfRAC'S employees there to survive. At the same time, during the winter of 1835-36 about one hundred unvaccinated Creoles and Aleuts died in the capital of Russian America. During the early months of the epidemic, R A C' s physician, Dr. Blaschke, and his assistants treated the afflicted, comforted the dying, and managed to vaccinate about 200 still susceptible Russians, Creoles, and Aleuts. By January of 1836 the terrifying and usually lethal disease had spread to the Sitka Tlingit village. Even though the Tlingit of several kwaans, including Sitka, must have already experienced a smallpox epidemic in the mid-l77oS (see Khlebnikov 1985:82-83; Portlock 1789:271; Emmons 1991:19), the length of time after that tragedy was longer than the average Native lifespan, so that the majority of the aboriginal population lacked any actively acquired immunity, even though the disease could have existed subclinically since the 1770S (Gibson 1982-83:66). The 1830S epidemic seems to have been more devastating than the previous one. Its effects had to be terrifying to the Tlingit people, especially with the appearance after a few days of rash and pustules which break open and scab over and are painful as 95

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well as frightening to sight and smell. The fact that this disease transmits easily and death tends to occur in one week must also have frightened the Sitka Tlingit a great deal. In the first two months of the epidemic in Sitka, about 300 of them died-on some days from eight to twelve people were dying. It appears that about 40 to 50 percent of the permanent inhabitants of the Sitka village perished during that time. From there the plague spread to nearby Tlingit settlements, leaving about 400 people dead in the immediate region (Tikhmenev 1978:198). The epidemic soon spread to more distant Tlingit communities, beginning with the XutsnoowU Kwaan. By April 1836 it reached the Stikine River, but few people died there. In the summer of that year it broke out over a wide area, stretching from Lynn Canal in the north to the territory of the Tongass Kwaan in the south, where 250 people died out of a population of 900. The neighboring Haida and Tsimshian people were hit very hard as well. In some of the villages, including Sitka, entire households were wiped out, and in a few places an entire Native settlement was destroyed or abandoned by a few survivors (Kan 1991). Gibson (1982-83:72) argues that the Tlingit never recovered from the population losses suffered during this epidemic. Their population plummeted from about 10,000 in 1835 to 6,000 in 1840; by 1860, when a smaller epidemic of smallpox hit them, their numbers had increased to about 7,700, plus 800 slaves}4 Even if Gibson overestimates somewhat the Tlingit population loss, its effects on Tlingit social organization as well as spiritual culture and morale must have been dramatic. Never before (at least not in the memory of the present generation) did the Sitka Kwaan loose so many of its members in such a short period of time. Generally healthier and stronger than the Aleut and Alutiiq inhabitants of Novo-Arkhangel'sk (Blaschke 1971 [1842]:73);5 the Tlingit tended to be stoic in the face of death but must have been unprepared for the effects of smallpox. According to Veniaminov, those afflicted by the disease relied on their traditional methods of curing-trying to fight high fever by eating snow and jumping into the icy cold water. Such treatment only increased the number of deaths, forcing the frightened people to turn to another traditional method of dealing with serious calamities-shamanic seances which, though conducted daily, did not help either (Veniaminov 1972:47). To understand the effects of this epidemic on the Tlingit one has to try to establish which causes they may have attributed it to. On the one hand, according to Khlebnikov's (1985:82-83) aristocratic Sitka informant, Saiginakh, the earlier epidemic of the 1770S was interpreted as the Raven's punishment of the people he had created for their excessive intertribal warfare. Such an explanation might also have been circulating in Sitka during the new epidemic (cf. Venia-

THE TLINGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH, 1834-6} minov 1984:386). On the other hand, serious diseases not susceptible to treatment as well as other disasters and misfortunes were often attributed to the witches' evil actions, and it was the shamans' task to identify them and force them to undo their black magic. 16 In Sitka at least, it appears that the shamans correctly identified the Russian settlement as the source of the new disease and did not follow the usual procedure of hunting down suspected witches within the victim's community. Some of them blamed the Russians directly for sending it and, according to Veniaminov (1972:47), vehemently appealed to their tutelary spirits (sing. yeik) to deflect the scourge from them and send it back to the An60shi. If a rumor circulating among the Novo-Arkhangel'sk promyshlenniks could be believed, the shamans even tried to fight back by placing pox scabs inside the fish and game sold to the Russians at the Tlingit marketP In any event, the inhabitants of Sitka were clearly very angry at the Russians and turned to a range of available traditional methods of fighting disease. Even though the shamans appear to have blamed the Russians for sending the disease, the rest of the Sitkans must have realized after a while that this etiology was not necessarily a correct one. To begin with, they must have known that some of RAe's Native workers were also falling ill, a few of them dying, but many others recovering with the help of some medicine that the An60shi seemed to have access to. It obviously would not make sense for the Russians to make their workers ("slaves" from the Tlingit point of view) sick. Some ofthe Tlingit inhabitants of the Russian settlement could also have been among the survivors. The Tlingit must also have learned that, instead of fighting fever with cold substances, the Russians preferred to keep the sick warm and protected from the elements. Finally, the indigenous theory that the Russians had sent them the disease must have suffered a strong blow when the RAe physician offered the An60shi medicine to them (Blaschke 1971 [1842]70) According to Veniaminov (1972:47), "some of the more intelligent ones and those closer to the Russians" understood the real reasons for the invincibility of most of the Russians and many of their Native workers to the disease and began asking the RA C to save them from certain death. The Company readily complied, and its medical workers set about to vaccinate them. "Those vaccinated remained unharmed by the epidemic, and this convinced those still wavering in their faith as well as those still seeking the aid of the shamans. Immediately all the nearby Kolosh and then those from far away came to get the preventive treatment" (ibid.). According to Gibson (1982-83:68), smallpox returned to the Alaska Panhandle in the winter and spring of 1837 and fizzled out by the end of the summer of that year. The number of Sitkans killed by it was still substantial 97

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(25 percent of the population, according to Gibson), but significantly smaller than during the previous year: vaccination must have saved a substantial portion of the population. By the late 1830s-early 1840S all of the Tlingit, or at least all of the younger ones, living near Novo-Arkhangel'sk, plus many of the Native visitors to the Sitka village, had been inoculated. By that time, the Tlingit "had learned of vaccination's prophylactic powers and now they not only willingly allow it but even ask for it themselves" (Blaschke 1971 [1842]:70). The tragedy of 1836-37 had to have a serious effect on the Tlingit view of and attitudes toward the Russians, although, as subsequent events demonstrated, it might not have been as dramatic as Veniaminov (1972:47-48) believed. The Russian survival and the Tlingit demise in the face of the new disease must have demonstrated to many of the inhabitants of Sitka /swaan and their neighbors the Russians' superior knowledge, at least in matters of medicine and possibly spiritual ones as well. The An60shi offer of medicine to their former enemies must also have shown to the Tlingit that the Russians were not determined to exterminate them and that their previous expressions of friendship had been truthful. Finally, as Veniaminov (ibid.) correctly observed, the epidemic could not but undermine the influence and prestige of the shamans. The entire system of beliefs about shamans and the Tlingit trust in them was not destroyed, as his own data (Veniaminov 1984:400) demonstrates. However, the reputation of the shamans in Sitka, and probably in other communities which had suffered most from the epidemic, had clearly been tarnished. 1s I also suspect that many of the shamans themselves, called upon constantly during the initial outbreak of the epidemic, were among its casualties. In addition, as Veniaminov (1972:47) reported, the old people-the upholders of traditional "superstitions" -also perished in greater numbers. At the same time Fr. loann's (1984:434-35) claim that the year of the smallpox epidemic was "the most important epoch in Kolosh history ... the borderline, the verge, at which the dominance of coarse ignorance and savagery ended and the dawn of their enlightenment and humaneness [Russian liudskost']" had begun, was definitely an exaggeration or wishful thinking. Since none of the contemporary sources describes the Sitka Tlingit as demoralized or socially disorganized, it would seem that they did eventually recover from the tragedy of 1836-37, rebuilt their society, and maintained the essential values and principles of the preepidemic sociocultural order. By inviting new lineages and houses to settle in Sitka, the Sitka kwaan could replenish its ranks at least partially. Of course such a method contributed to the further weakening of Sitka's original settlers-the Kiks.adi and the several Eagle moiety clans and lineages intermarried with them. While their share in the total population of the village declined, the more recently

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arrived groups-especially the Kaagwaantaan from Hoonah-increased their presence in Sitka and their role in its social and political life. Although Veniaminov was undoubtedly shocked by the terrible losses suffered by his Tlingit neighbors during the epidemic, as a missionary he attributed the events of 1836-37 to an act of "Providence" (1972:48) or the "hand of God" (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:29-31), which had saved his life and contributed to the cause of Tlingit Christianization. His interpretation was based on his belief that had he begun visiting and speaking to the Sitka Natives before the epidemic, they would have blamed him for it. After all, one of the first Tlingit houses to be struck by the disease was the one in which his first conversation with prominent Sitkans was supposed to take place. It was to the change in the Tlingit attitude toward the Russians, and especially toward their religion, that Veniaminov attributed their willingness to have him visit their homes in Sitka and their genuine interest in hearing his words. In April 1837 he wrote to Litke (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:29-31) that he now had the permission of the Sitka taens to visit them and speak to their people. His visits conducted in 1837-38 were successful-lengthy conversations between the Russian priest and his Tlingit hosts helped the former understand their culture and gave the latter a better sense of what the An60shi believed in and what their most important ceremonies were about. In Veniaminov's words (1972:47-48), the Tlingit now accepted him as a person "who knows more than they do, not as an enemy or the one who wished them ill." They listened to him attentively and told him openly about their customs and beliefs. 19 Veniaminov's willingness to be a guest in the Tlingit homes must have made him unique in his hosts' eyes. The courage and charisma of this tall Russian, with his eloquence, special spiritual power, and ability to conduct elaborate rituals, undoubtedly appealed to them. So did his insistence on using good interpreters and efforts to learn the Tlingit language, even though he never mastered it the way he did Aleut (Michael Krauss, personal communication, 1987). His "respectful" behavior called for a highly courteous treatment in return. Veniaminov (1984:437) commented in his writing on this generous and friendly (radushnyi) welcome, illustrating it by the following episode-a typical symbolic gesture of a Tlingit host humbling himself in front of a high-ranking and respected guest: One evening, I visited the barabora [winter house] of one Kolosh unexpectedly. The fire, which is customarily made in the center, was very poor, because of damp firewood. One Kolosh, seeing that the fire was not going any better, rose from his place, took the lid off a chest which was very well decorated, and split it into firewood. When I asked, why he was ruining such an object, he responded: 'It is 99

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nothing, I will make another one' [italics by Veniaminov; translation modified by Kanl.

One can imagine that the way Veniaminov presented Orthodox Christianity followed the order which he eventually outlined in his Instruction. There he advised the missionary to use simple language and adjust his presentation to the local conditions and "the simplicity of local ways" (Veniaminov 1899:35). Religious instruction was to begin with God's creation of the world, followed by an explanation of the notions of the immortality of the human soul and the sinfulness of the human being, and then climax in introducing Christ the Savior. Pointing out that all "American savages" had some concept of immortality and life after death, Fr. Ioann also emphasized the importance of discussing Christ's own death, resurrection, and second coming, and especially the most important idea that Christ was going to save them (ibid. 1899:12-13). Here he seems to have understood the centrality of eschatology and death-related beliefs and religious observances in both Orthodoxy and indigenous Alaskan cultures (especially the Tlingit one). The next step in Christian proselytizing was to ask the Natives in simple words to devote themselves to Christ by following the most basic virtues outlined in the Gospel, especially by loving one's fellow human beings and forgiving one's enemies. After that, the importance of prayer was to be explained to them and only later on, the Ten Commandments were to be introduced, followed by the Gospel, and the Apostles (ibid. 1899:19-21). Another cornerstone ofVeniaminov's missionary approach was his encouragement of those local customs that he saw as good ones or, as he put it, those that contained echoes of the ancient "Natural" and Mosaic laws, which preceded the Gospel Law but already included such important notions as respect for one's parents. He believed that by appealing to these universal human values the missionary of Gospel could make his message more understandable and his preaching more effective (ibid.). At the same time, Veniaminov was not as tolerant of indigenous customs as a number of recent authors have suggested (e.g., Black 1977; Smith 1980, 1990; Oleksa 1987, 1992:127-43; Mousalimas 1995). In this respect, his Instruction speaks in a very clear and unambiguous voice, "Do not swiftly discourage those old customs that are not contrary to Christianity, but only explain to them that such customs are merely tolerated [as an indulgence]" (Veniaminov 1899:25). In other words, his goal was not a syncretism of indigenous and Christian beliefs and practices but a temporary tolerance of the more innocent customs as a way of attracting the "heathens" to Christianity. Thus, when the Natives were finally ready to be given "salvation through baptism," they had to agree to the following conditions before they could join the 100

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Church: to reject their previous religion, including abandoning shamans and not listening to them; not to practice the customs contrary to Christianity; to agree to everything demanded from them by the new Christian law and the Church; and to confess their sins (ibid. 1899:16). At the same time, Veniaminov did insist on making some important allowances for the new converts, adjusting Church law to the local ecological and socioeconomic conditions. For example, since most Native Alaskans could not survive on a vegetarian diet, they could be allowed to limit their consumption of meat during certain Orthodox fasts rather than abstain from it altogether. Veniaminovalso encouraged the missionaries not to be too harsh in their criticism of polygamy, widespread among the American Natives and especially the wealthy and the powerful. As he put it, "Given the small size of the local population (which is reminiscent of the patriarchal times), do not broaden too much the circle of those types of relatives that are forbidden to marry each other; however the rules outlined in Leviticus, ch. 18 should be strictly observed" (Veniaminov 1899:24-25; cf. Veniaminov 1886-88, vol. 2:178).20 The Russian priest was also concerned with the tone in which the essentials of Christian faith were presented to the unbaptized. Drawing on a distinctly Orthodox view of the role of religion in human life, in his conversations with the Tlingit, he must have used the kind of approach to preaching that he later advocated in his Introduction, "Christianity is a need, satisfaction, and consolation primarily of the heart, and not the mind alone, and hence when instructing [the heathens 1in the matters of faith, you should try to influence the heart rather than the mind" (Veniaminov 1899:9-10).21 While much of what Fr. Ioann told his Tlingit hosts dealt with religious matters, it would be surprising if he did not at least suggest to them the benefits of improving their relationships with the Russians. After all, it was obvious that proselytizing among the "Kolosh" would be much more successful if the tone of the Tlingit-Russian relations became friendlier. Hence, while discouraging the next generation of Alaskan missionaries from meddling in secular affairs (except for extreme cases), he must have followed his predecessors' advice, phrased by one nineteenth century Church leader in the following manner: All the peoples inhabiting our Russian colonies are considered to be the subjects of Russia; but those who have not yet been enlightened with the Holy Baptism do not yet know that they are under the mighty protection [pokrovl of Russia and that in the security they are enjoying, they are Russia's beneficiaries; hence you must impress them with this idea and in general at every opportunity you' must try to present to them the superiority of our type of government in comparison with the 101

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other ones, as well as its selfless care about them, its protection, etc. (Filaret 190 5: 11- 12).

The Tlingit, who had always enjoyed eloquent public speaking and masterful storytelling, must have been impressed and intrigued by the Russian priest's presentation of the rudiments of Christianity. For many of them, after being exposed to a culture quite different from their own for several decades and especially after the challenge posed to their own worldview by the smallpox epidemic, Veniaminov's stories raised difficult new questions, some of which did not seem to have satisfactory answers in the traditional Tlingit ideology. Even though the number of such inquisitive persons was not large, Veniaminov was struck by their perceptive questions. Prominent in this group of Veniaminov's interlocutors, who I suspect were some of the younger people better acquainted with the Russians, was a Kiks.adi aristocrat in his mid-twenties named Shikaxu or Koo~'an. While not yet the head of a lineage, he was a younger brother to Koo~'an I, one of the Kiks.adi leaders who figured prominently in the Russian-Tlingit conflict of 1799-1804. For reasons more likely political than ideological (see below) he decided to align himself with the Russians and in 1836 was baptized, most likely by Veniaminov himself. Governor Ivan Kupreianov served as his godfather and, following his baptism, the young man became known to the Russians as "Mikhail Koo~'an," "Mikhail Ivanov(ich) Shikaxu," or "Mikhail Ivanov(ich) Kupreianov" (ARCA, D 406). He became one of Veniaminov's main informants in Sitka, sharing with him, among other things, details of the creation myths involving the Raven which the missionary/ethnographer was particularly interested in (see Veniaminov 1839:43). Veniaminov (1984:428), who characterized "Mikhail" as "one of the most intelligent Tlingit living in Sitka," reported the kind of questions that the young Kiks.adi would ask him, for example: What are the spots on the moon? What causes the stars to twinkle? What is the origin of the sun and other heavenly bodies? Did tlIey always exist and will they continue to exist forever? What causes the solar eclipse and what does it presage? The last question was particularly interesting, since the solar and the lunar eclipse had been considered a very auspicious occasion by the Tlingit and accompanied by ritual performances described by Veniaminov himself (1984:412-13; cf. de Laguna 1972:79697). Another Sitka aristocrat posed an even more remarkable question, which strengthened Fr. Ioann's conviction that a virtual ideological revolution was taking place among the "Kolosh." At the conclusion of a conversation the Russian priest had with him in his lineage house, the latter asked, "What will happen over there to people who do good here?" (Veniaminov 1984:429; Veniaminov's 102

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italics). Since the notion of reward and punishment in the afterworld was not particularly prominent in the Tlingit worldview, such a question would suggest that Veniaminov's Christian stories were beginning to challenge the ideology of at least some of the more inquisitive Sitkans. Another difference in the Tlingit attitude toward Orthodoxy that Veniaminov (1984:436) saw as a very promising sign was their increased curiosity about and respect toward the church rituals. While they were still restricted in their access to the services conducted at St. Michael's church inside Novo-Arkhangel'sk, the Sitkans always gathered in large numbers to watch religious rites conducted outside the fort. Since these were typically funerals, it is not surprising that the Tlingit, with their own highly elaborate death rites, would be drawn to this symbolically rich dimension of Orthodoxy (see below).22 It also appears that during this time the Tlingit began showing more respect for the An60shi "village of the dead," that is, they stopped removing icons inserted into the graveside crosses and no longer tried to dig up Russian graves (Veniaminov 1984:36).23 An even stronger curiosity about Orthodoxy was exhibited by the Stikine Kwaan Tlingit, whose relations with the Russians had not been marred by the kinds of conflicts that had taken place in Sitka in the early 1800s. During his month-long stay at the Dionis'evskii Redoubt, which did not have a church, Veniaminov conducted divine liturgy outside the fort under a temporary shelter. The priest had sent an invitation to the local Tlingit but was probably amazed that 1,500 of them (the entire population of the nearby settlement) came to watch the ceremony. What struck Fr. Ioann even more was the respectful and dignified manner in which all the "Kolosh" present conducted themselves. Thus a man smoking a pipe on his way to the site of the liturgy was told by his own people to stop. The fact that this was the Stikine people's first exposure to the elaborate ritual of communion, as well as the participation of several baptized Tlingit in it, must have made this a particularly impressive ceremony for them to watch. Large groups of Tlingit also gathered at the cemetery near the fort whenever Fr. Ioann performed the funeral rite. Their behavior was equally dignified and respectful, so much so that a high-ranking elder told several of his tribesmen walking through the woods and singing songs, while the funeral was still taking place, to stop (Veniaminov 1972:46-49; 1984:435-36). Among the Stikine people, Fr. Ioann conducted the same kind of visits to the houses of "the most notable of the toens," as he had been doing in Sitka. His stories about the An60shi religion were listened to with the same kind of interest and he was asked the same sort of metaphysical questions about the fate of the dead in the afterlife as the ones he had heard in Sitka (Veniaminov 1984:437). Special attention paid by Fr. Ioann to the influential Stikine leaders was 103

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reciprocated-upon his return to Sitka he received greetings from them with the first vessel sailing from Dionis'evskii Redoubt to Novo-Arkhangel'sk as well as an expression of their wish to see him (ibid.). Another fruit of his labor was the decision by the second son of the most influential Stikine headman, Sheiksh, to come to Novo-Arkhangel'sk and enroll in the school, where he learned to read and write Russian and was eventually baptized, receiving the name "Nikolai" and an "Allies of Russia" medal (Grinev 1991:229, 271; cf. Simpson 1847, vol. 1:212). "Nikolai" was most likely another aspiring young aristocrat who, like KooKX'aan, saw his special ties to the Russians and his knowledge of Russian as an additional factor that would help him rise further in his clan's hierarchy.2 4 Given the good will of the Stikine aristocracy, Veniaminov attempted for the first time in the history of the Russian mission in southeastern Alaska to discourage a recently baptized Tlingit from committing a cruel act unworthy of a Christian. The man was a prominent Stikine aristocrat, named Kuaxte or Kutxa, who was the one who asked Fr. Ioann about rewards beyond the grave for people who do good deeds. Instead of killing two slaves at a funeral, he gave one of them to a Russian family to be raised as a Russian and another one to an elderly and poor Tlingit man to be his servant, upon the condition that the slave would be freed when the old man died (ARCA, D 330). Veniaminov knew enough about Tlingit customs to acknowledge that slaves were occasionally set free during funerals and memorials. In fact, the liberated slaves were often symbolically killed by being touched with a weapon used for ritual sacrifices. Whether a slave was sacrificed or set free, the owner raised his status by parting with valuable property (see Kan 1989a:132-34). Nevertheless, because the circumstances of this particular act of manumission were so unusual, Veniaminov saw Kuaxte's act as a sign of his moral progress. While it is possible that the priest's gentle words discouraged the Stikine aanyadi from killing the two slaves, he was probably pursuing other, more mundane goals when he gave the boy slave to the Russians, who took him to Novo-Arkhangel'sk, baptized him and placed him in the Company school. 2 5 Kuaxte was clearly one of the Stikine leaders whom the R A C was actively courting' since he had already received a silver medal from it. For his humane gesture, which the official correspondence described as a sign of his "attachment to and respect for the Russians," Governor Kupreianov wanted to present him with a special valuable gift, something Veniaminov was not likely to approve. According to a document reprinted by Grinev (1991:271-72), the board of directors of the RAC endorsed Kupreianov's request to reward Kuaxte with a "golden caftan," so as to set an example to the "other savage people," and passed it on to the minister of finance. Eventually the request was approved by the emperor himself, 104

THE TLINGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH, 1834-67 who authorized a presentation of a brocade caftan, sash, and hat to the Stikine headman. Nikolai I sent a separate decree on the subject to the Irkutsk Consistory, which appears to have been based on Veniaminov's own report of Kuaxte's actions and his own role in precipitating it. The emperor stated that it was "an obligation of the clergy to eliminate among the pagans a wicked notion that God's grace could be earned by offering the blood of an innocent victim. Instead human beings should love God and their fellow human beings who are an image of God" (ARCA, D 330). Thus the emperor turned out not to be as good an ethnographer as Veniaminov (1984:421), who understood that slaves were not killed by the Tlingit as a sacrifice to the spirits but as a way of destroying valuable property and/or providing the spirit of a deceased aristocrat with a helper in the afterworld (Kan 1989a:132-34). The entire hoopla surrounding Kuaxte's noble act is understandable: the killing of slaves, which took place in Sitka and Stikine within earshot of the Russian forts, was something the RAC officials had been very troubled by but could not outlaw. As early as 1821 Governor Muraviev tried to dissuade Kalyaan from sacrificing slaves at his upcoming potlatch (Sarafian 1970:211).26 In the late 1820S a slave destined to be killed would sometimes escape to Novo-Arkhangel'sk and receive the governor's protection, an action that was not protested by their owners, who might have considered the slaves to be at least symbolically dead now that they had cut their ties with the Tlingit community (see below) (Litke 1948:58). To the RAC'S disappointment, Kuaxte turned out to be unworthy of the imperial gifts-they were never delivered to him because, according to RAC correspondence, a few years later he killed his female slave and then his own brother "without any reason" (Grinev 1991:152). Despite this particular setback in his missionary labors, Fr. Ioann remained very optimistic about the Tlingit change of heart. He was not discouraged by the fact that only a very small group of them was baptized in 1837-38, the total number of Orthodox "Kolosh" throughout southeastern Alaska remaining around twenty (see ARCA, D 406-7,412).27 Veniaminov remained firmly committed to the idea that the sacrament would be administered to the Natives only after a fairly long waiting period, during which they received religious instruction. As he put it, "I never directly urged upon any of the Kolosh the acceptance of baptism, but always had foremost in my mind to appeal to their own reason. [I also] by every possible means [tried to]· convince them of the verity and holiness of [Christian] Religion, so that in the end they themselves would ask to be admitted to Christianity" (1984:437). Whenever he did baptize them, he always asked permission of their lineage and clan heads and, in the case of infants, of their mothers (Veniaminov 1972:48-49). 105

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The 1837 Confessional Records for Novo-Arkhangel'sk, compiled by Veniaminov (ARCA, D 412), make an interesting distinction between Tlingit women married to Russian or Creole men, whose Tlingit identity is acknowledged but who are listed only with their husbands, and those put under a separate heading of "natural Tlingit" (Koloshi Prirodnye). The latter category also includes mostly the Tlingit who resided in the fort, but in this case they were either single or couples where both spouses were Tlingit. Thus "interpreter Gedeonov" was a "natural Tlingit," and so was Mikhail .Koo.~x'an who resided in his own house outside the fort. Another separate category was created by Veniaminov for the "illegitimate children of Kolosh women" (ibid.). The greater number of women among the Orthodox Tlingit of the late 1830S indicates that the pattern of conversion, which characterized the 1820S, persisted. In Veniaminov's view, by the time of his departure from Novo-Arkhangel'sk in the fall of 1838, many of the Tlingit were on the verge of converting to Orthodoxy. He cited a series of indicators of their new state of mind: their general rapprochement with the Russians,28 curiosity about the Orthodox rites, and interest in hearing Russian clergy. In addition he mentions that the heads of kinship groups did not object to their relatives' baptism,29 while mothers did not obstruct their young daughters' conversion. The baptized Tlingit were not scorned or shunned by their kin but were looked upon "as being more knowledgeable and closer to the Russians" (Veniaminov 1972:49). In his view, all that was needed was a "zealous and powerful preacher" and soon the Russians would see "a good-hearted, industrious, keen-witted, and brave people reborn in a life of Grace and citizenship" (ibid.). The fact that the baptized Tlingit fulfilled their religious duties well and did not (with one or two exceptions) "return to their former religion" (whatever that meant) gave Veniaminov (ibid.: 46) an additional reason to be optimistic. Besides direct proselytizing, the priest suggested another method of drawing the Tlingit closer to the Russians and the Russian Church-a school for the "Kolosh" children. Given the Natives' desire to acquire Russian knowledge and skills, the Tlingit parents would, in his view, gladly send their offspring to such an institution, as long as there was a teacher who could speak Tlingit and books that would provide the Native students not only with secular but especially religious instruction (Veniaminov 1984:438). Fr. Ioann saw the school as such an important civilizing institution for the Tlingit because he had been greatly impressed with the talents of those few Tlingit and Tlingit-Russian children whom he had taught in Novo-Arkhangel'sk. 3o At the same time, Veniaminov remained a realist and admitted that it would take a long time before the entire Tlingit nation would realize the importance of 106

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embracing Orthodoxy. He correctly identified the Tlingit fear of becoming subordinate to the Russians as the main reason for their reluctance to accept baptism. He also suggested that many of the Novo-Arkhangel'sk Aleuts and even Creoles and Russians whom the Tlingit could observe were far from exemplary Orthodox. Writing in the early 1840s, he argued that, until things began to improve slowly by the end of his initial stay in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, drinking and sinful behavior ran rampant among the people whom he described as "mostly commoners ... without previous ownership of property, permanent place to live, or morality ... the worst kind of Russians" (Veniaminov 1886-88, vol. 2:168-70).

Veniaminov on Tlingit Culture and "National Character" In contrast to this rather critical evaluation of many of his own compatriots, Veniaminov's characterization and evaluation of Tlingit culture and what he called "Kolosh abilities and character" contain a number oflaudatory statements. What distinguished his view of the Tlingit from those of many of the secular Russian and non-Russian observers of that era was Veniaminov's firm belief that each culture, no matter how simple and far removed from Christian civilization, contained within itself kernels of divine truth and goodness. While the Enlightenment evolutionist and rationalist in him made Fr. Ioann arrange the Native American cultures that he knew along a progressive continuum, as a Christian scholar he was determined to uncover the elements of monotheism and other universal human beliefs and values underneath an overlay of "pagan" and "savage" ideas and practices. A few of his observations that compare Native Alaskan and European cultures also show a conservative Christian thinker's ambivalence about Western secularism, a refusal to equate material and technological progress with spiritual advancement, and a willingness to give the "primitives" credit for certain practices and attitudes seen as being superior to European ones. In this respect Veniaminov is closer to Rousseau than to nineteenth-century evolutionists of the later era)' His ethnographic writings on the Aleut and the Tlingit also had a strong "applied" agenda-they concluded with an evaluation of those cultural, intellectual, and psychological characteristics of Native Alaskans that he expected either to impede or to contribute to the Natives' progressive development toward further (Christian) enlightenment. While this research agenda was very much a product ofFr. Ioann's times and cultural background, his ethnographic method bore a certain resemblance to that of twentieth-century Boasian and even the more recent "dialogical" anthropology (e.g., Stocking 1974; Dwyer 1982).32 His ten-year stay with the Aleuts convinced Veniaminov that accurate ethnographic data could be obtained only 107

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by someone who had lived among the Native people, gained their trust, and learned their language)3 An initial inability to duplicate his Aleut research in Sitka was a source of major frustration for him. Thus in an 1835 letter to Litke in which he tried to explain why he had not started collecting data on Tlingit culture, Veniaminov insisted that he wanted to obtain only "correct" information and, to do that, he had to get to know the Sitkans as well as he had gotten to know the inhabitants of the Unalaska region. As he put it, "I lived among them and they opened their souls to me, but these [Tlingitl people I can only see, and hence most of my observations are going to be superficial" (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:26). In other words, the Russian priest refused to compile his ethnography using only interviews with a few Tlingit living in the Russian fort, as many of his predecessors and successors did. Once the ice in his relationship with the Tlingit had been broken, Veniaminov began a process of careful data gathering that was intertwined with his theological conversations with his Native neighbors. Instead of simply interviewing them, he engaged in a dialogue with his Tlingit hosts-a more natural exchange of information about each other's culture and especially spirituality. While he seems to have been able to talk to a large number of people, he also mentions several "key consultants" in his first publication on the Tlingit, a collection of myths and other ethnographic data (Veniaminov 1839:43). They included the abovementioned KooEX'an, a shaman from Sitka (whose name, Aak'wtaatseen, has always been used by high-ranking Kiks.adi), as well as several high-ranking aristocrats from Stikine, including the famous head of the Naanyaa.aayee clan, Sheiksh. The latter shared the Raven myth with Veniaminov, reciting it "solemnly, with a large number of Kolosh being present; during the retelling of the myth he consulted others several times" (ibid.). Fr. Ioann's choice of consultants was very appropriate-the aristocracy and the shamans were the ones most likely to have greater knowledge of Tlingit customs and beliefs and the ability to recite the correct versions of ancestral myths. Veniaminov, who saw the myths involving the Raven as a Tlingit equivalent of the Bible, demonstrated his good grasp of this culture when he insisted that one had to collect them from all the different Kwaans in order to get all the versions of the same basic plot (ibid.). While he was unable to gather such data anywhere except Sitka and Stikine,34 he was very much aware of this key attribute of Tlingit mythology, thus predating Boas by half a century (cf. Boas 1895; see also Swanton 1909; de Laguna 1972:83973; Meletinskii 1979; Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1987). While Veniaminov's search for "primitive monotheism" helped him avoid treating all of Tlingit spiritual culture as primitive, which was typical for other ethnographic works of his era, it also led him into a realm of pure speculation. His 108

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basic characterization of Tlingit and other Native Alaskan religions as "shamanism" or "shamanistic religion" (shamanskaia vera) was not totally unreasonable, although it seems to have exaggerated the role of shamans in Tlingit culture at the expense of the more private ("magical"), but nevertheless important, religious beliefs and observances. Here is how Veniaminov (1886:579; cf. 1984:386) defined "shamanism": Those who share this religion acknowledge the existence of the Creator appearing under one or another guise and name, but remove Him from ruling the world. Between the Creator and the human beings they place several types of spirits, good and evil, but it seems that, according to the circumstances, the good and the bad ones can be merged in a single class; to these they ascribe the total power of governing the world .... The shamans, who can see the spirits and communicate with them, are the intermediaries between them and the human beings. The Russian missionary correctly identified the Raven as the mythical creatortransformer, finding "confirmation" of his discovery in a similarity between the Tlingit word for raven, yeiI, and one of the Hebrew words for God, EI {ElohimJ (ibid.)! He was correct in pointing out that the Tlingit believed the Raven to be removed from most of their day-to-day activities and did not worship him. Instead, they referred to him as their "haa shukfl" or "haa shag6on," which he correctly translated as "our ancestor, our predecessor, the first one" (Veniaminov 1984:383). Not surprisingly, this was the term Veniaminov chose as a translation for Christian "God" (1846; 1984:450). He also insisted-correctly it seems-that Yeil was not simply a mythical bird but an anthropomorphic being who sometimes took on the appearance of a raven but could also turn into other creatures (cf. Swanton 1909:3-21, 80-154; de Laguna 1972:839-73). Where Fr. Ioann seems to have erred is in making the indigenous Tlingit worldview much more monotheistic, centralized, and hierarchical than it probably was. It is possible that in response to Veniaminov' s own explanation of the basic attributes of the Christian God, his Tlingit interlocutors made the following statement to him: "Whatever Yeil did and how he did it, that is exactly how we live our lives." This idea prompted the Russian missionary to assert that "The story ofYeil's life with tlIe people, his words and deeds constitute for the Kolosh the only [? J dogmas of their religion and rules for conduct" (Veniaminov 188688, vol. 1:580; cf. 1984:387). Another possibility is that Veniaminov's interpreter(s), whom he recruited from among the Tlingit living in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, had already internalized some Orthodox concepts and/or were using them to translate complex Tlingit ideas. In fact, about fifteen years later, Holmberg 109

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(1985:30), a Finnish scientist visiting Novo-Arkhangel'sk, was told by the Tlingit that Yeil was their "vokh" (God, from Russian bog]. Be it as it may, Veniaminov's description of Yeil's attributes combines information supported by subsequent ethnographies (e.g., the Raven being hidden from human beings, his dwelling place being at the head of the Nass River) with such obvious Christian-inspired notions as, for example, this one: "Yeil has with him a son, but it is not known from whom and when he was born. Yeil's son loves human beings and often intercedes with his father on their behalf and saves them from his father's wrath" (Veniaminov 1886-88, vol. 1:588; cf. 1984:387). A standard plot of Tlingit mythology involving the Raven and his wicked maternal uncle, who tries to get rid of him for making improper advances to the uncle's wife, is made to conform to a Christian idea about the relationship between God the Father and Jesus, his Son. At the same time, as an honest ethnographer Veniaminov refused to suppress some of the picaresque and obscene episodes of the life of this trickster/ transformer as well as the fact that the creation of such bad phenomena as witches was also attributed to him. The missionary simply chose to emphasize those episodes that found clear confirmation in the Bible (e.g., Raven's virgin birth, universal flood) and attribute the other ones to "the delirious wanderings of the human mind left to its own devices, a mixture of lies (fancies), conjectures, events, traditions, and fairy tales. But within this delirium and the mixture of darkness and natural light, sparks of the true light [i.e., true religion; Christianity] can be discerned" (Veniaminov 1886-88, vol. 1:588; cf. 1984:393). He concludes his discussion ofYeil mythology with the following practical observation: "To the preacher of true religion among the Kolosh, this circumstance [i.e., the similarity between Biblical narratives and some of the episodes of the Raven mythology] could be of significant help in persuading them of the truth of Christianity" (ibid.; cf. 1984:394). Having outlined the positive aspects of the indigenous religion, Veniaminov turns to its "darker" side-the realm of shamans and their tutelary spirits (sing. Tlingit yeik). Once again, his efforts to construct a "systematic demonology" (Russian dukhoslovie) of this "shamanistic" religion result in a rather rigid differentiation of yeiks into those of the air, the land, and the water (Veniaminov1984:397). And once again, Fr. roann's account contains accurate observations, such as the role of the personal tutelary spirit, a~ kinaa yeigi, as enforcer of moral behavior (see chapter 1) and the dependence of the spirits of the dead for their well-being on the living who sent them food and clothing through the fire. At the same time, in his search for some spiritual being that the Tlingit must have prayed to, he concludes that the spirit of a dead shaman was the only object of worship

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(Veniaminov 1984:405). This observation is incorrect but fits in with Veniaminov's general scheme of Tlingit religion being "shamanistic" in its essence.35 Veniaminov's foregrounding the shamans is easy to understand-the i:&t was the missionary's archrival. As he commented in his ethnography, "This belief in the words of the shamans was and might still be for a long time the major obstacle in the enlightenment of the Kolosh" (ibid.). On another occasion the missionary also wrote, "The Kolosh are independent and fearless; but left to their shamans and old women, they would have long remained in ignorance, error, and obstinacy" (Veniaminov 1972:46). Whereas Fr. Ioann might have had a more positive view of those Aleut and Alutiiq shamans of his times who had already accepted Orthodoxy and were trying to use their spiritual power to encourage their people to follow the new path (Black 1977; Mousalimas 1990; 1995; 155-63), he certainly did not have any words of praise for the Tlingit i:&t'. It appears that the missionary did not have an opportunity to witness a shaman's performance but, drawing on the data provided by a certain shaman and his assistant, he was able to provide a rather detailed account of this important aspect of Tlingit spiritual culture, supported by a number of subsequent studies. What is remarkable is the fact that he was entrusted with this information in the first place, since most of it was usually kept hidden from outsiders. It might be that the weakening of the Sitka shamans by the smallpox epidemic made this subject less secret or that Veniaminov himself was perceived as a powerful Russian religious practitioner, a kind of friendly shaman who could be trusted. Equally detailed and generally accurate is Veniaminov's (1984) account of Tlingit beliefs about witches and ways of fighting them, his information on Tlingit eschatology, and his summary of funeral and memorial rites (including his appreciation of the centrality of death in Tlingit culture), as well as other major ceremonies (potlatches). Fr. Ioann's ethnography also contains a few intriguing references to the way the Tlingit understood some aspects of Russian spiritual culture. While Veniaminov and his colleagues tried to present their Native neighbors with the essential dogmas of Orthodoxy, ordinary Russians were sharing with them elements of popular religion, which tended to be closer to the Tlingit own worldview. Thus, the Sitka Tlingit told Veniaminov (1839:60) that from the "common Russian people" they had learned that thunder was the Russian God (prophet Elijah?) riding through the air and firing cannons, while they themselves continued to believe that it was Xeitl, the Thunderbird. They also told Fr. Ioann that the Sun was a Russian god, an idea they might have derived from the sacredness of the eastern direction in Orthodoxy as well as from some Russian folk tales. This

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dialogue between two religious traditions continued, and eventually Tlingit beliefs began to be syncretized both with the official Orthodoxy of the Church and with Russian folk beliefs (cf. Kamenskii 1985:70; Dauenhauer 1975=123-42), both processes contributing to the development of a unique Tlingit Orthodoxy by the end of the nineteenth century (see below). The presence of the Russians was also having a more direct effect on certain key indigenous ritual practices, at least in the vicinity of the Russian settlements. Thus, according to Veniaminov (1886-88:616-17), in Sitka the initial menstrual seclusion ofTlingit girls was being reduced from six to three months, while many younger women were no longer wearing the lab ret. At the same time, certain Russian customs, such as their elaborate weddings and the insistence of consummating the marriage on the first night after the wedding ceremony, appeared "strange and funny" to the Tlingit, who must have been as curious about the customs of the Anooshi as the latter were about their "heathen ways."3 6 The concluding section of his ethnography, which evaluates what might be called the Tlingit "national character," is worth examining as well, since it both summed up the more positive Russian images of the "Kolosh," accumulated in the first four decades of Russian contact with this Native Alaskan people, and influenced several generations of clergymen who continued Veniaminov's work in southeastern Alaska (cf. Donskoi 1893; Kamenskii [1906] 1985). Like other Russians of his time, Veniaminov was very impressed with the level of Tlingit craftsmanship and admired the beauty and technological sophistication of their artifacts. To him, an ability to produce such things was a reflection of "more than an ordinary intelligence or natural wit" (prirodnyi urn). Fr. Ioann was also in agreement with other Russian observers who had repeatedly commented on the Tlingit entrepreneurial skills and their "natural" inclination toward trade. Based on his view of Tlingit technological and intellectual superiority over other Native Alaskans and the indigenous inhabitants of California, whom he observed in the vicinity of Fort Ross, Fr. Ioann predicted that the "Kolosh"37 would eventually dominate the entire Pacific coast (1984:427-38). He also had words of praise for Tlingit women, who not only ran their households efficiently but tried to earn wealth by selling food and woven baskets to the Russians at the "Kolosh market" and by working in the NovoArkhangel'sk vegetable gardens. Those Tlingit women who lived inside the fort were described by him as equally diligent housekeepers who also excelled in their ability to learn the Russian language and in acquiring skills in various Russian women's handicrafts, surpassing many of Novo-Arkhangel'sk's Aleut and Creole women in these areas. In fact some of these women, whom Fr. Ioann described as being very loyal to their Russian husbands, ended up sup112

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porting them through their own labors, rather than the other way around, as would have been expected in Russian society. A number of these women, whom Veniaminov talked to, struck him with their "knowledge [of Orthodoxy] and piety" (Veniaminov 1984:430). By contrasting the energetic, thrifty, and quick-witted Tlingit with the more passive and nonmaterialistic Aleuts, Veniaminov appears not to have taken into account the fact that he was comparing an independent Native group with the one that had been under Russian domination for almost a century and under the R A c's paternalistic control during the last forty years of that period.38 When it came to material culture and economy, Veniaminov spoke as an evolutionist. To him, Tlingit myths demonstrated inquisitiveness or at least an interest in contemplating the world, in sharp contrast to the most primitive mentality of the California Indians (whose language and culture he knew little about), who, in his words, "could barely explain anything" (1984:428). Although some qualities of Tlingit character were admired by Fr. Ioann, he had a more ambivalent attitude toward others. Thus, although he admired the physical endurance and great patience of the "Kolosh," he criticized them for not having "spiritual patience" ("patience of the soul"; terpelivost' dushevnaia), that is, for being quick-tempered and refusing to forgive even the smallest insult or an angry look (1984:432-33). While condemning various "immoral" or "nonChristian" practices and actions of the Tlingit, Veniaminov was not consistent in his explanation of their causes. Sometimes he attributed them to the Natives' character and sometimes to the lack of the civilizing influence of the morally superior European (= Russian) people. But on occasion he spoke more as a modern-day anthropologist, explaining cruel and vindictive behavior not as a manifestation of inborn wickedness and depravity (as other Russians had argued) but as a consequence of their commitment to acting according to the ("natural") law of their society, which in his view was a law, even though it was not based on Christian morality. Thus the killing of slaves at funerals of highranking persons that troubled the Russians so much was explained by him as an act aimed at demonstrating their owner's love for his departed relatives. Even Tlingit attacks on Russian settlements were seen as being caused by some real grudge rather than some inborn bloodthirstiness of the "savages." In the end, despite their technical and intellectual superiority over other Native Alaskans, the Tlingit were characterized by the Russian missionary as lacking some highly laudable qualities that he found among the Aleuts. Here again he abandoned his rationalist evolutionism and spoke as a nineteenthcentury Orthodox Christian. From that perspective, the "nonmaterialist, patient, and selfless" Aleuts were closer to his ideal of a truly moral (i.e., Christian) 113

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person than the "proud, vain, and acquisitive" Tlingit, who continued to value material wealth over the spirituaU9 Despite all these shortcomings in the Tlingit character, Veniaminov remained optimistic about their future as Christians and Russian allies. Filled with this optimism, he sailed for St. Petersburg in November 1838 to raise funds for the Alaska mission, discuss urgent ecclesiastical matters with the powerful religious and secular officials in the capital, and oversee the publication of his Notes on the Islands of the Unalashka District, as well as other linguistic and missionary writings. Having arrived in St. Petersburg in June of 1839, he was able to meet with the metropolitan of Moscow and other members of the Holy Synod, as well as the emperor himself, who gave his approval to the creation of a new Alaska diocese, which was also supposed to include the Kurile Islands and Kamchatka. In the fall of that year, Fr. Ioann learned of the death of his wife and was advised by his superiors to take monastic vows. This opened the way for his consecration in December 1840 as Bishop Innokentii, the head of the newly created Alaska diocese. 4o Upon his return in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, Bishop Innokentii was no longer able to spend much time with the Tlingit, either as a missionary or an ethnographer. He was now engaged in constant travel throughout his enormous diocese, administrative work of all kinds, and letter writing. Although he encountered the Tlingit during church services and when their headmen came to visit the great An60shi religious leader and maintained his interest in the progress of their Christianization, his energies were now devoted to the entire multi ethnic membership of the diocese. Despite his constant and exhausting travel, Bishop Innokentii spent a fair amount of time in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, the center of his diocese. Among the highlights of his activity there was the opening of a two-class religious school in 1841, and especially the construction of a new building in 1843 which contained that school, now enrolling 120 Native and Creole children, a chapel, and a seminary transferred there from Petropavlosk Kamchatskii in 1845. On November 20,1848, Bishop Innokentii consecrated the newly built cathedral of St. Michael the Archangel, and six months later he also consecrated a special small Holy Trinity church for the Tlingit. 41

The Tlingit -Russian Rapprochement of the 1840S In the 1840S Russian-Tlingit contacts increased significantly and the tone of the relationship became more amicable. In fact, Grinev (1991:155) characterizes that decade as the peak of the Tlingit-Russian rapprochement and attributes it to the

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increased efforts to build ties of various kinds with the "Kolosh," so as to counteract the increased activity of the H B C among the southern Tlingit. Arvid (Adolf) Etholen (Etolin), laboring efficiently as the governor of Russian America from 1840 to 1845, also played an important role here. Responding to invitations by the "straits Kolosh" to come and trade with them, Etholen ordered the Company's first steamship, Nikolai J, to make five cruises of the Inside Passage and visit Tlingit villages there. His smartest move was the establishment of a periodic spring igrushka, a fair/ feast for the local and out-of-town Tlingit (Pierce 1990:138; Dean 1995:279-80). The first such fair, held in 1841, was attended by 500 "honorable Kolosh" and involved lavish feasting of the guests by the RAC (including the distribution of small amounts of rum to each person present), giving of some gifts to everyone present and "Allies of Russia" silver medals to a few selected headmen; in addition, during the igrushka a few guests, wishing to be baptized, were most likely given that opportunity (see below). Some sort of entertainment (singing, dancing) of the guests may have been provided by the RAC'S Native Alaskan workers, while the governor and his most senior associates must have delivered speeches proclaiming their friendship with the visitors. Acting like proper guests at a Tlingit feast or potlatch, the visitors responded with singing and dancing of their own, while thanking and praising their hosts in elaborate speeches. These igrushkas must have been seen by the Tlingit as a kind of minor koo.eex', that is, as a Russian version of a ritual aimed at showing respect to the guests and remunerating them for their support and friendliness. The news of this culturally appropriate mode of Russian-Tlingit interaction spread quickly through southeastern Alaska, so that the next big festivity, held in 1846, was attended by 1,500 Tlingit plus a number of slaves (Mamyshev 1855:246-47). The lavishness of these fairs and the special "respect" shown to the aristocracy had to please the Tlingit and improve the image of the Russians in their eyes. The fact that the R A C was willing to spend large sums of money on the igrushkas indicates how determined it continued to be to keep peace in the vicinity of its capital and the rest of southeastern Alaska. While the introduction of the "Russian potlatch" demonstrated the Russians' understanding of Tlingit culture, there was a limit to it. Teben'kov, Etholen's successor, wanting to use the igrushka to increase the amount of fur traded by the Tlingit to the RAC, told them one year prior to the 1846 festivities "not to come empty-handed." The fact that no gifts were brought must have surprised the governor but makes perfect sense in terms of the traditional Tlingit cultural logic-guests attending a potlatch only receive gifts. 42 However,

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THE TLINGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH, 1834-67 the Company did benefit from the arrival of such large numbers of Tlingit in Novo-Arkhangel'sk-during the igrushka the amount of food sold at the local "Kolosh" market increased dramatically (cf. Grinev 1991:279).43 While Teben'kov followed his predecessor's advice and held expensive largescale igrushkas every five years, smaller fairs were held every spring. Some of them were used by the Tlingit as an occasion for taking care of their own "ceremonial business" -it appears that, along with the "Russian potlatch," Native feasts as well as memorial and other potlatches were held in the Sitka village, with the distribution of gifts and killing of slaves (an unexpected consequence of the RAC'S "civilizing" innovation!) (Pierce 1990:502). A significant increase in the amount of trade between the Tlingit and the An60shi also contributed to the development of more cordial relations between these former enemies. Under Etholen (1840-45) and Teben'kov (1845-50), the Sitkans continued supplying fresh meat, fish, and berries as well as large amounts of lumber to Novo-Arkhangel'sk, while inhabitants of other Tlingit as well as Kaigani Haida villages became their regular suppliers of potatoes, a popular Russian staple, which they themselves had introduced to the "Kolosh" (Gibson 1987:89-91, 385). A certain amount of trading in furs also continued during the 1840S in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, in the vicinity of the Dionis'evskii Redoubt, and in several other locations visited annually by the Company steamship. As a sign of an increased trust between the Russians and the Tlingit, the "Kolosh market" was moved from an area outside the Novo-Arkhangel'sk stockade to one inside, although it was still separated from the rest of the Russian town by a fence (Blomkvist 1951:282, 1972:140). Despite this change, the Russians remained vigilant-guards kept a watchful eye on the market and "lowered the gates" at the sign of any argument or minor disturbance; in addition, no Tlingit from the outside were allowed to remain in the fort after 4:00 P.M. In return, the Tlingit received an increasing number of European artifacts and foodstuffs, becoming more and more dependent on some of them. Two particular aspects of Russian-Tlingit trade distinguished it from the commercial operations undertaken by the British and the Americans in southeastern Alaska and must also have promoted the improvement in Tlingit attitudes toward the An60shi. One of them was the abovementioned ceremonial nature of RussianTlingit trade and the RA c's willingness to provide additional gifts "on top" of the prices paid for furs and other items traded to them. The second was the RAC'S willingness to supply the Tlingit with non-European items obtained from other Native American groups, which the Tlingit saw as prestige goods and channeled into the ceremonial cycle of exchange. Such items included sea lion whiskers (used in making the shakee.at, frontlets worn by aristocrats and decorated with 116

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their clan crests), dentalia shells, Chilkat blankets, and woven artifacts (which the Sitkans used themselves or resold to other Native groups). Occasionally, Native-style artifacts were ordered from Russia for the purpose of trading them to the Tlingit. They included Tlingit-style brass headdresses (Jonaitis 1988:25, pi. 9) and even masks (Grinev 1991:224-25). The number of Tlingit men working for the RAC in various capacities at the Novo-Arkhangel'sk port and serving as sailors on its ships also increased, which was another factor contributing to the Tlingit-Russian rapprochement. 44 Etholen was so pleased with their performance that he expressed hope that they would eventually replace the Aleuts and even the Russians as Company workers in southeastern Alaska (Mamyshev 1855:245-47). The RAC head office must have been satisfied with his success in recruiting Tlingit workers, but it appeared to retain a degree of suspicion and fear of the "wild Kolosh," since it insisted in an 1844 letter that the ratio of Tlingit to Russian (i.e., Russian, Creole, and Aleut?) workers should not exceed 1:3. In addition to the fear of having too many "natural Kolosh" inside Novo-Arkhangel'sk's palisade, the RAC was worried that with an increased reliance of the Sitka Tlingit on wage labor, fewer of them would be engaged in hunting and fishing, thus depriving the Russians of fresh food (Grinev 1991:198). In fact, according to documents cited by Grinev (ibid.), in the late 1840S the Tlingit labor supply in Novo-Arkhangel'sk greatly outweighed the demand. An interesting feature of the process of hiring Tlingit workers by the RAC was the key role played by the Native aristocracy in recruiting them, a valuable service for which they received medals and other rewards from the Russians. While the wealth earned by working for the R A C increased the status of individual men of various ranks, it did not sever their crucial ties with their senior matrikin. The fact that at least some Tlingit aristocrats did not object to their children's desire to work and study with the Russians was another indicator of an improvement in Anooshi-Lingit relations. Young Tlingit aristocrats' curiosity about the world the Russians came from manifested itself even in the early days of Baranov. The latter sent a Kiks.adi aristocrat, a brother of headman Naushkekl', to study in St. Petersburg. 45 In the late 1820S, captain Litke (1948:76), who during his stay in Sitka was persistently asked by a young Tlingit man that he take him to Russia, had to dissuade him, fearing that the two-year journey would change his mind. In the 1840S and early 1850S the number of such Tlingit men increased. The number of Tlingit women living in or visiting Novo-Arkhangel'sk also continued to increase, further linking the Russian and Native communities in Sitka. While the cohort of women whose marriages to R A C employees had been sanctified by the Church remained small, many of the Tlingit common-law wives 117

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of the promyshlenniks and Creoles became very devoted to their husbands and shifted their loyalties more to the Russian community. At the same time many of them, and even their "Creole" daughters who were especially sought after as wives by the RAC men, maintained strong ties with the Tlingit community and even returned there, abandoning their Russian parents and spouses;46 Some of these Creole offspring of Russian-Tlingit marriages and liaisons continued to identify with their mothers' culture, while others were becoming culturally more Russian or bicultural. According to Markov (1849:50), who visited Novo-Arkhangel'sk in the mid-1840s, there were quite a few illegitimate children of Russian men and Tlingit women living there whose Russian fathers tried to have them baptized and to teach them about Orthodoxy, provided them with clothing, and discouraged them from decorating their bodies in the Tlingit fashion and from other Native observances. These children's Tlingit relatives did not seem to object to this.47 An improvement in Tlingit-Russian relations also encouraged RAC employees, who lived in a community where the males greatly outnumbered the females, to seek sexual partners among the "Kolosh" women. Tlingit prostitution became widespread in the 1840S, an issue commented upon by RAC officials and medical personnel as well as by visitors. No longer frightened to venture outside the fort, Novo-Arkhangel'sk men met with Tlingit women in small huts and tents scattered in the nearby woods. While most of the women involved in this business appear to have been slaves whose masters pocketed most of the money and gifts given to them by their customers, some of the free women may have engaged in this activity as a way of earning money that could be used to purchase more European goods and/or in potlatching. At least this is what the Russian sources indicate, and it is possible that some free women turned to this trade as a new source of earning wealth that could then be used to raise them and their families within the social hierarchy; still it is doubtful that a respectable woman of high rank would engage in such an activity48 (Romanovskii and Frankenhaeuser 1849:121-22). While many Russian observers criticized the Company for allowing the secret meeting places of Russian men and Tlingit women to remain undisturbed, its officials realized that they lacked a better solution to the drastic imbalance in the sexual ratio of Novo-Arkhangel'sk's population.49 A substantial rise in the various forms of traffic between the Russian and Tlingit communities resulted in and was further stimulated by an increase in the number of Tlingit who could speak Russian, including a small but growing cohort of Company interpreters. Thus, while the abovementioned Gedenov remained the "chief interpreter" of the RAe, Company records cited by Grinev (1991:197) mention several other men and women who served as his helpers or "junior interpreters."5 0 118

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All of these old and new forms of Russian-Tlingit interaction indicate that the two societies, especially in Sitka, were becoming increasingly dependent on each other, with neither side seriously wanting to destroy or displace the other. Full of enthusiasm about the recent improvement in Russian-Tlingit relations, Etholen reported to the Company directors that "The Kolosh nowadays have become so close to the Russians, that they consider them to be their friends and benefactors; having understood the benefits of having the Russians as their neighbors, the Kolosh can no longer live without them and, consequently, have become totally different from what they had been in the past" (Grinev 1991:156). At the same time, another Finnish resident of Novo-Arkhangel'sk, a Lutheran minister, Uno Cygnaeus, commented in a letter written in 1840 that the Sitka Tlingit appreciated the improvement in their relations with the RAC but did not consider themselves dependent on it (quoted in Varjola 1990:40). Unlike the Americans, who replaced them in southeastern Alaska in 1867, the Russians, whose main activity in Lingit aani was trade, were not interested in drastically reforming the Tlingit way of life, especially if it meant a reduction in traditional subsistence activities. In fact, the new charter granted to the RAe by the Russian Government, which went into effect in 1842, expressed opposition to . the distribution ofluxury items to the Alaska Natives which were not compatible with their aboriginal lifestyle and could lead to its abandonment (see Tikhmenev 1978:344-78). This view was paralleled by the one expressed by Bishop Innokentii and some of the other more enlightened subsequent Orthodox missionaries, even though they were obviously more concerned with the Natives' moral progress than most of the R A C officials. In his 1840 study of the Aleuts and the Tlingit, Fr. Veniaminov (1984:317) wrote, Savages will gain but little from any enlightenment introduced among them, if it is only the external, mundane kind, and even if it consists solely in education of the mind. How is the moral stage of a savage improved when he learns, for example, that the sun does not turn around the earth while at the same time he does not learn either the reason for the existence of the world or the goal of his own existence? Will a savage be happier in his daily existence when he changes his clothes from animal furs to cloth and silk while he simultaneously borrows all the misuses of producers and consumers?

At the same time, the new entente cordiale between the Anooshi and the Lingit should not be overestimated. Thus Teben'kov, who reported to Company headquarters that the "Kolosh problem" was no longer the priority of his policies dealing with Alaska Natives, attributed this shift not to any significant change in 119

THE TLINGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH, 1834-67 the Tlingit way of life or their special affection for the Russians, but to their fear of the new Company watercraft, the well-armed steamships, which could go against the current and reach any of their villages easily. He also explained the new peaceful relations in Sitka by the fact that so many of the Tlingit were now working for the Company, that is, acting as the hostages of the earlier era (documents cited by Grinev 1991:157-58). Yet even the skeptical Teben'kov was so sure that the Tlingit would no longer try to attack Novo-Arkhangel'sk that he was eventually able to convince Company headquarters to lift the ban on the sale of firearms and ammunition to them-he argued that Russian refusal to trade at least some guns would antagonize the Tlingit and deprive them of their main hunting implement. Without the guns there would be no fresh meat for the N ovo-Arkhangel' sk population (ibid. :159-61). The continuation of Baranov's policy of noninterference into Tlingit internal affairs by Etholen and Teben'kov was undoubtedly a major factor in maintaining peaceful relations between the Russians and the Tlingit. Thus, the abovementioned charter explicitly prohibited the Company from getting involved in the internal affairs of the "independence natives," except when the latter themselves requested help. Most minor altercations between the two sides were resolved peacefully through an exchange of gifts, feasting, and other means that were meaningful to the Tlingit. When fighting did break out, the RAe was always willing to pay indemnity in the form of blankets, calico, and other gifts for the injury and loss oflife inflicted by its men on their Native neighbors and visitors (Govorlivyi [1861] n.d.:2-3). When it was the Russians' turn to demand compensation for an injury, they were very careful not to penalize people not related matrilineally to the offender. This means that, having lived side by side with the Tlingit for several decades, they were beginning to understand their social structure and recognize clan distinctions. All these examples demonstrate that the Company was willing to "play by the Tlingit rules" rather than impose its own method of justice on the Native community. After all, it had no choice but to maintain peace-any confrontation with the Sitka Tlingit resulted in the latter boycotting the "Kolosh market," thus leaving the inhabitants of Novo-Arkhangel'sk without fresh food (Markov 1849:41). The only exception to this general approach of noninterference was the Russian officials' growing discomfort with the Tlingit custom of killing slaves and accused witches, which continued to be practiced in Novo-Arkhangel'sk despite the previous managers' attempts to discourage them and Veniaminov's own gentle preaching against such cruelty. In the 1840S the RAC'S attempts to replace slave sacrifice with manumission or sale appeared to be more successful than during the previous era. Thus Etholen was able to convince two Sitka headmen, 120

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Naushkekl' and Sxagatayeil, who had planned to sacrifice slaves at a memorial feast in honor of a high-ranking clan relative, to trade the intended victims to some distant Tlingit kwaan instead (Grinev 1991:214). In 1847, angered by the killing of eight female slaves (accompanied by other forms of dispensing with valuable property as a means of status raising) during a big koo.eex' conducted in Sitka by the L'uknax.adi clan, Teben'kov announced to the Sitkans that no more cruelty of this kind would be allowed in the vicinity of the fort and suggested that an alternative way to show one's generosity was to sell the slaves to the Company and then destroy or give away the trade goods received for them. His message seemed to have worked-the Company was able to redeem a one-year-old boy and two young girls. On another occasion, Teben'kov was able to save a slave destined to be killed at his master's funeral. In this case the slave was given to the governor without charge and was sent to the distant Mikhailovskii Redoubt to work for the Company (Grinev 1991:279-82). According to Pierce (1990:502), during that same year the governor was able to save a dozen men, women, and children from possible death, redeeming them with funds made up of voluntary contributions by the residents of Novo-Arkhangel'sk. In response to his report about the events ofl847, the head office of the RAC instructed him to take even more active measures to buy slaves from the Sitkans by using especially earmarked Company funds. The redeemed persons were to be resettled in other parts of the Russian American colonies. Although the killing of slaves appears to have declined in Sitka during that period, it did not disappear altogether, while in other Native communities it continued unabated (Holmberg 1985:69-70). The success of the R A C in saving some of these lives, limited as it was, resulted from the Russians' cautious approach, which did not antagonize the Tlingit but actually made sense to them. Instead of seizing the slaves by force or simply inviting them to hide inside the fort, they were willing to pay for them, thus encouraging their Tlingit owners to think of them as another form of property which could be exchanged for blankets and other trade goods. Because the freed slaves always had to leave their former owners' community, the killing of them continued to be performed but in a symbolic mannerY Thus no radical change in the Native worldview was produced by the Russians' humanitarian actions. Coming from a society in which most peasants remained in a state of serfdom, a kind of semi-slavery, the Russians were not opposed to the institution of slavery itself but only to the shedding of slaves' blood. In fact, the R A C relied on slaves (called kaiury) for some of its labor needs, buying them from various Native Alaskan groups. Occasionally it also enslaved its own Native workers for committing very serious crimes (Liapunova and Fedorova in Khlebnikov 1979:253). Until the early 1860s, when the Russian government began to prepare the reform of 121

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setting the serfs free, the R A C did not have any serious qualms about the institution of slavery either. In fact, in 1844 Bishop Innokentii, proposed that the new Alaska diocese would buy from the RAC "up to fifty men, with or without families," in order to have its own workers in Novo-Arkhangel'sk serving the needs of the Ecclesiastical Consistory and the seminary. He suggested that this would be more convenient than hiring workers in Russia and would insure that church servants were independent from the Company. Aware of the unusual nature of such a purchase, he argued that "This action should not appear strange or incompatible with contemporary ideas [i.e., anti-serfdom sentiment growing in Russia]-on the contrary, this could be a real good deed or benefit for the slaves. They will be saved from death (being murdered during a funeral) and will become Christian; there would also be some additional benefits, for example, having served us for twenty years, they could be made free and given a boat and a gun, but without depriving them of an opportunity to remain with us forever, if they wish to do so" (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:213-14). On another occasion, Innokentii proposed purchasing a few slaves from the Tlingit in order to educate them at the seminary and eventually use as church interpreters and possibly clergymen. In his view, purchased slaves, unlike the free Tlingit, would be obligated to remain in school, while the authorities would be free to supervise their behavior without the fear of reprisals from the Tlingit (Kovach 1957:209).52 To capitalize on its improved relations with the Sitkans and to strengthen its influence on the "independent natives" living next door, the RAC decided to establish a new office of the "head chief of the (Sitka) Kolosh" (cf. Grinev 1991:154-55; Dean 1995:283-91). This act indicates that, despite their increased understanding of the Tlingit sociopolitical order, the Russians were still operating according to the model of dealing with Siberian and Alaskan Natives developed over the previous centuries. Their mistakes of creating an office which made little sense to the Tlingit was aggravated by the fact that the man chosen to be the "head chief' was not someone at the very top of the Sitka !s.waan's social hierarchy. From the Russian point of view, Mikhail Shikaxu (Shilxaku), selected for the job, was an excellent choice. After all, he belonged to the clan of the "original Sitkans," the Kiks.adi, and had been a Christian and a close ally of the Russians since the mid-1830S. Finally, Mikhail's status in his clan's hierarchy increased significantly in 1842 when, upon the death of his older brother (whom the Russians described as one of the most prominent Sitka chiefs), the deceased man's prestigious name, "Koo.lQC'an," was officially bestowed upon him.53 RA C documents (Grinev 1991:273-74) and visitors to Novo-Arkhangel'sk (e.g., Markov 1849:49) describe the new Koop:'an as a modest, honest, and peaceful man, who stayed out of Native troubles and was 122

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"always grateful to accept the advice of the Russians to whom he was very attached," even though he did not speak Russian (Golovin 1983:83). Upon the R A C' s petition, the Minister of Finance authorized the presentation to him of a set of fancy garments (costing over 1,000 rubles), originally intended for the Stikine headman Kuatxa (Kuaxte) who, as we have already seen, had damaged his reputation by continuing to kill slaves. Most important, the new "head chief of the Sitka Kolosh" was presented with a personal seal depicting a raven (his moiety crest!) sitting on a branch and with his baptismal and Tlingit names inscribed on it. On October 10, 1843, Kooxx'an was dressed in his new garments during a special solemn ceremony conducted in the Novo-Arkhangel'sk church in the presence of all the leading local officials and employees of the RA C, baptized Tlingit aristocrats, and ordinary Tlingit. A special oath was administered to him by the Company's governor, in which the new "head chief" pledged his allegiance to the emperor and the heir to the throne, promising to "sacrifice his life to the last drop of his blood" in this service and "with his good behavior to set an example for his people and help keep their wild customs in check [ukroshchenie zverskikh ikh nravov)" (Grinev 1991:155,237-74; Markov 1949:47-50). Despite this impressive installation ceremony, which combined the splendor of Russian church and state rituals, Kooxx'an's influence on his kwaan or even on his own clan was rather limited. While Mikhail's rank in the traditional social hierarchy was relatively high (though not as high as some of the other prominent Kiks.adi leaders), he was too young to be an influential leader and had little wealth. In 1844, to remedy the problem, Governor Etholen "loaned" him goods worth over 2,000 rubles to help him build his own house in the Sitka village and purchase six slaves. This suggests that RAe funds were used to support a very traditional Tlingit activity-a (re)dedication of a lineage house by its new head as an act of confirming his new office, which was supposed to be accompanied by a major koo.eex'. Despite this loan, the house built by Kooxx'an was described as a "small one," and his six slaves were no match for those of other Sitka aristocrats. Most important, his especially close relations with the Russians may actually have damaged his reputation in the eyes of the rest of the aristocracy. While he was obviously able to use the Russians to increase his wealth, which he continued to do more successfully in the 1850S (Holmberg 1985:65), Teben'kov himself had to admit that Mikhail had almost no influence on the Sitka Tlingit, not to mention the ones living in "the straits" (Grinev 1991:155).54 Given the limited data on Kooxx'an, it is difficult to establish whether, in addition to his wish to raise his wealth and status, there were other motivations for his unusual closeness with the Russians. He did seem to enjoy spending time with Westerners-whether they were RAC officials, clergymen, or a visiting 123

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Finnish scientist (Holmberg 1985:6s)-serving as their liaison with the Sitka community and as a source of ethnographic information. 55 Given the nature of the questions he asked Veniaminov (see above), it is conceivable that he was under greater Russian cultural influence than most of his fellow-Sitkans or at least was more open to new ideas. Koo.lQC' an retained his office as the "head Sitka chief' throughout the 18sos and 1860s and continued to increase his wealth by taking advantage of generous loans given to him by the R A c; his special status even allowed him to travel safely throughout southeastern Alaska, including the hostile territory of the Stikine Kwaan, to locate his runaway slaves (Holmberg 1985:6S-68). His closeness to the Russians is also illustrated by the fact that in the late 1840S he married a Creole woman, Pelageia Stepanova, who mayor may not have been Tlingit on her mother's side (A RCA, D 413).

The Beginning of Large-scale Tlingit Conversion to Orthodoxy In this atmosphere of Russian-Tlingit rapprochement, the Orthodox Church, which now had its own diocese in Alaska headed by an energetic bishop, had a much better chance of making more converts among the "Kolosh." With a new opportunity to enlarge the staff of the Alaska mission, Bishop Innokentii was able to appoint a well-educated and hard-working missionary to the position of dean of the Novo-Arkhangel'sk church, who was to serve both the Russian and the Tlingit communities. He was a young hieromonk, Misail, born about 181S, who had studied at the Moscow Spiritual Academy and was brought to Novo-Arkhangel'sk in 1841. During that year, Fr. Misail spent a great deal of time "constantly talking to the Kolosh;" as a result of his work, about eighty Sitkans were asking to be baptized by the end of the year (Vakul'skii 1915:38-39). This priest was apparently an eloquent preacher and a charismatic person-he was still fondly remembered by Sitka's Russian and Tlingit old-timers in the 1900S (ibid.). In addition to Misail's labors, Bishop Innokentii himself offered religious instruction following church services to the baptized Tlingit as well as the ones preparing for baptism (Markov 1849:49). Despite this sudden increase in the Sitka Tlingit interest in Orthodoxy, Bishop Innokentii was insisting on his policy of not rushing neophytes into baptism but giving them a fair amount of time for religious instruction and preparation. He pursued it even in the case of a high-ranking Kiks.adi leader, Naushkekl, the younger brother of the above-mentioned Naushkekl, who had been baptized in 1823 and died in the early 1830S. Here his approach differed from that of the R A C officials who were eager to use baptism to create new allies among the Tlingit aristocracy. In a letter dated May 3, 1842, Bishop Innokentii wrote that although 124

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Naushkekl (II) was anxious to be baptized during the Easter services of 1842, the most auspicious occasion for baptism,56 he himself was in no hurry. The Kiks.adi headman claimed that had he been baptized at that time, he could have averted a serious fight between his relatives and another kin group, which occurred soon after Holy Week and was precipitated by an exchange of insults between the two parties. It is not clear how Naushkekl's membership in the Russian Church could have helped to put an end to this conflict, except that he might have hoped that with Russian backing he could have stopped the bloodshed soonerY According to Veniaminov, Naushkekl was still poorly prepared for becoming a Christian, while his insistence on having the governor serve as his godfather and giving him as many presents as his older brother had once received, made the bishop particularly suspicious of his motives. In his view, giving gifts to newly baptized aristocrats was especially troublesome and not only on moral grounds; as he put it, "if you give presents to one of them, you have to do the same for the others. And where would we get so many presents?" (Barsukov 1898-1901, vol. 1:81-83). Innokentii's and Misail's efforts began to payoff in 1843. While church records for 1840-41 indicate that the number of Orthodox Tlingit in Novo-Arkhangel'sk remained as small as it had been in the 1830S, in 1842 it increased to 39 men and 8 women (ARCA, D 406). According to a letter by the bishop, the real breakthrough occurred in the spring of 1843, when, prior to Easter, over 100 adult men, including two shamans, were baptized (Barsukov 1898-1901, vol. 1:101). In the summer of that year they were preparing their wives and children for baptism. In addition, not willing to let the Sitka Kwaan get ahead, the inhabitants of "the straits" were also asking to be visited by a missionary, but due to the lack of funds, their wish could not be granted at the time (ibid.). The list of these new converts (A RCA, D 413) indicates that most of them were men in their 20S and 30S, only one of them listed as a "chief." I would venture to say that these were mainly not the senior aristocrats but the upwardly mobile younger Tlingit who may have been working for the RA c, actively trading with it, taking part in the annual igrushka, and generally wishing to establish closer ties with the Russians. They may also have been the ones who had survived the smallpox of the 1830S by agreeing to be vaccinated. The older and more conservative aristocracy must have been holding back, waiting to be courted by the RAC, the way Kooxx'an had been and Naushkekl wished to be treated. The fact that only men, rather than families, were being baptized suggests that this was largely a political move-a kind of alliance-building movement in which men would traditionally take the lead.5 8 Unlike Naushkekl, these younger converts were not asking for presents, which may simply have been the result of Bishop Innokentii's strict policy. It is also conceivable that they interpreted the 125

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small crosses and icons given to them to wear as gifts and/or amulets, a powerful protection against evil and misfortune. The fact that the new converts were not entirely "selfless" (as Veniaminov called them) is indicated by their visits to his residence after every holy day service with an expectation to be feasted. The bishop's problem was that he did not have enough funds to underwrite such feasts. As he put it, "In my opinion, given my current position here, it would be impossible not to feast them, but to offer them even tea and bread ... is rather difficult [i.e., costly]" (Barsukov 1883:212). What this meant is that the new converts recognized the special status and prestige (as well as the spiritual power) of Sitka's senior clergyman and wanted to establish the same type of ties with him as the aristocracy had been able to establish with senior R A C officials. In 1844 another large group of Tlingit, most of them males, was baptized just before Easter. According to Innokentii (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:114), they were performing their religious duties well-attending services regularly and having confession and communion. At the same time there is no record of Orthodox funerals involving deceased Tlingit, which means that all of them continued to be cremated, their remains stored in the old cemetery behind the village. While the number of baptized women also began to rise, cumulative church records, which deal with the Orthodox Tlingit living near Novo-Arkhangel'sk, Ozerskii Redoubt, and Dionis'evskii Redoubt, indicate that through the mid-1840S males continued to outnumber women by about four to one. Thus, in 1844 there were 169 Tlingit males and 38 females in the Church, while in 1845 that number was 172 males and 38 females (ARCA, D 406). By the summer of 1845, Tlingit conversion came to a halt due to the fact that Fr. Misail, suffering from some serious illness, had to be sent back to Russia. In addition, the Sitka church was now too small for the large Tlingit congregation, and services there were still conducted exclusively in Church Slavonic, a language that the majority of the Tlingit did not understand. According to an 1845 letter by Bishop Innokentii, the Tlingit mission was "prevented from being more effective by the absence of a special church for the Kolosh where they could be gathered together and taught in their own language-without this, baptism cannot bring all its benefits to them." In fact, the Church was forced to turn away temporarily some of the Tlingit wishing to join it (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:134-36). The construction of a special church for the Natives was also needed to eliminate the risk involved in having large numbers of young Tlingit men enter the Russian town. Ecclesiastical records for 1846-47 illustrate a slowing down of the conversion process: in 1846 the church claimed 178 male and 44 female Tlingit members-a minuscule increase compared to the previous year. In 1847 there was actually a 126

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decline in membership, with only 160 persons listed. We should bear in mind, of course, that with Tlingit mobility and limited contacts between the Russian and Native communities, record keeping by the clergy was far from adequate. Thus it may be that in 1847 a number of baptized Tlingit simply left ?itka or died without the Church's being aware of that. The 1847 "Confessional List" (ARCA, D 413)the first one of its kind available to us (which actually reflects church membership as of the beginning of that year)-lists each Orthodox Tlingit's name and age. 59 Mirroring the hierarchically arranged record of Novo-Arkhangel'sk's other Orthodox residents, the "Kolosh" list is headed by our old friend Kooxx'an (listed as "Mikhail Ivanov, toen") and his wife, followed immediately by Matvei Naushkekl (who must finally have had his wish granted). The rest of the Natives, none of them listed as a "chief," are still people in their teens, twenties, and thirties. With 94 male and 66 female members, the male-female ratio had finally begun to change; most of the women listed must been the wives and daughters of the male converts of the early 1840s, since none of them has a Russian "last name." The most interesting data revealed by this document is the fact that none of the 160 Orthodox Tlingit was listed as having had confession or communion during 1847, the reason for this lapse being listed mainly as "due to inability" (po nevozmozhnosti). This poor performance by the new Orthodox could be explained by several factors: some of them may have been absent from Sitka for a long time, while others may not have been allowed to enter the fort. A significant portion of them may simply have become lax in fulfilling their Christian duties after an initial period of enthusiasm about Orthodox rituals. In any event, it is unlikely that most of these recent converts had a clear idea of the spiritual benefits of the sacraments of confession and communion. To remedy this serious problem, the Consistory recruited a new priest to work with the "Kolosh," to replace Misail. He was Petr Litvintsev, a well-educated graduate of the Irkutsk Seminary who had previously served on Kodiak for five years and was thus better prepared for his new assignment. Having arrived in Novo-Arkhangel'sk some time in 1846, he was appointed rector of the new seminary and teacher of religion in the R A C schools. With the arrival in 1847 of another priest who began serving Novo-Arkhangel'sk, Fr. Litvintsev was finally able to direct his energy to his Tlingit flock. As a result of the church's renewed attention to the Tlingit, 36 of them were baptized by Litvintsev in the spring of 1847; two out of three new converts were women who seemed to be finally catching up with their male relatives. The major change in the Tlingit community, reported by Fr. Petr to the bishop, was the fact that many women began "to ask constantly to be baptized" (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:174). By the end of 1848, there were 116 Tlingit men 127

THE TLINGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH, 1834-67 and 75 women listed as members (ARCA, D 407). Despite their renewed enthusiasm about Orthodoxy, the Tlingit were demanding greater attention from the clergy, asking for the same "respect" as RAC officials were showing to them during that era. Thus Litvintsev reported to Bishop Innokentii that the "Kolosh" were unhappy about the fact that he had various other duties besides working with them-they were complaining about not having their own full-time preacher. According to the priest, most of the Sitka Tlingit, and especially the women, were interested in being baptized but were waiting for the completion of their new church. The last piece of news was especially pleasing to Innokentii, since, as he mentioned in his own letters, for a long time the Tlingit refused to have a church of their own, preferring instead to worship with the Russians inside St. Michael's (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:174, 200). In fact, as we shall see later, restrictions imposed on their visits to the Novo-Arkhangel'sk church (replaced by a much larger cathedral in the fall of 1848) remained a sore point with the Tlingit, especially the aristocracy-any Russian gesture that smacked of exclusion was undoubtedly seen as a "lack of respect." Nevertheless, the Tlingit had to be realistic-RAC officials were not about to let two hundred Indians into the town. In fact, sotne time in 1847 they finally began assisting the Company in building the church, which was consecrated by Bishop Innokentii on April 26, 1849, as the Church of the Holy Trinity, although most of the clergy as well as the laity referred to it as the "Kolosh Church." The Trinity Church was not very large and was located right on the border between the two communities-its western doors faced the Tlingit village, while the eastern ones were accessible from inside the fort (see fig. 1).60 While the "Kolosh Church" was no match for the newly consecrated Novo-Arkhangel'sk cathedral, at least the Tlingit no longer had to be prevented from attending services. In fact, for the next few days following the consecration ceremonies, which were attended by numerous local and out-of-town Tlingit, the Native presence at the services increased significantly; after that their initial enthusiasm subsided a bit, but the more elaborate holy day services continued to be well attended. The fact that Litvintsev enthusiastically reported to the bishop that two Tlingit men prayed diligently suggests that the rest of the Native parishioners were still rather passive during the service and were not yet fully versed in the proper style of the Orthodox worship (bowing, crossing themselves, venerating FIG.

1.

Il'ia G. Voznesenskii's drawing of the Novo-Arkhangel'sk palisade, Sitka

"Kolosh" houses, and the "Kolosh" Trinity Church on the hill above them, 1843-45. (Reproduced from Khlebnikov 1985=187) 129

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icons, singing, etc.) (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:224). At the same time, at least for these two, Orthodoxy appears to have become a more deeply felt, emotionally, and culturally significant phenomenon. While having a special church built for the "Kolosh" was a major accomplishment, Bishop Innokentii and Fr. Litvintsev wished to have Tlingit-speaking clergy to serve there and use the Tlingit language in the liturgy. Hence, training Tlingit and Creole church workers capable of speaking Tlingit and translating Orthodox liturgical materials and the Gospel into Tlingit became Innokentii's top priorities in the mid- and late 1840S. The education of "Kolosh" children, particularly boys, which began on Kodiak in the early 1800s and continued in Novo-Arkhangel'sk throughout the 1820S and 1830S, was boosted by the establishment of a religious school there in 1841 and a seminary in 1845. We do not know how many Tlingit students attended these institutions, but there were definitely some high- and lowranking boys studying there, as well as a few slaves bought by the Company. Despite the Church's educational efforts, it was unable to train any full-blooded Tlingit to become priests or deacons. The Orthodox mission was slightly more successful with the Tlingit Creoles, although prior to the late nineteenth century it was unable to produce a Tlingit equivalent of Iakov Netsvetov (Black 1980, 1984; Oleksa 1992) or other outstanding Aleut, Alutiiq, and Creole priests. The pool of potential Tlingit candidates for clerical positions remained quite small throughout the RAC era, while those few men who could have become proselytizers of Or thodoxy among their own people failed to live up to the moral standards set by the Church. Typical in this respect is the case of Emel'ian Molchanov, born in Novo-Arkhangel'sk in the early 1820S to a Tlingit woman of the "wolf clan" (Kaagwaantaan?) who lived in a common-law marriage with a Russian peasant. 61 Having studied in the Company school(s) in his home town, he was appointed sexton in 1837, the lowest church position, involving bell ringing and helping around the church. A few years later he also served as a scribe or clerk [pis'movoditel'l at the local RAC office. The latter position, plus evidence provided by the documents in his file, indicate that this Tlingit Creole could read and write Russian well and was well versed in the catechism. After four years as a sexton, Molchanov petitioned the newly appointed Bishop Innokentii to be made a deacon. Since there was no such vacancy in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, he was willing to work for the low wages of a sexton. While Innokentii did not make him a deacon, Molchanov did receive a small promotion and was sent to serve a predominantly Yup'ik parish on the Nushagak River. By the mid-1840S he was back in Novo-Arkhangel'sk working for the diocese in some clerical position. At that time he married a young Creole woman from Kodiak who had been a student at the local boarding school for girls. 13 0

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In 1845 Bishop Innokentii instructed the Ecclesiastical Consistory to present him with a monetary award for his good service. It appears that Molchanov did some teaching at the newly opened Seminary during that time-it is possible that he taught his mother's native language (Kovach 1957:193). In 1847 he was finally ordained as a deacon and was serving as the local cathedral as its second deacon. However, his slow rise in the church hierarchy was cut short by his own misconduct (beating up a young Russian woman), brought about by drinking, a perennial Russian affliction, which was common among the inhabitants of NovoArkhangel'sk, Native and non-Native alike. Molchanov died in 1853. A more remarkable figure, who also had the potential to become an outstanding clerical worker but did not fulfill the church's expectations, was Ivan Zhukov. 62 Born about 1825 at an RA C post on the Nushagak to a Tlingit mother and a Russian father, a Baranov-era promyshlennik, Zhukov served as an apprentice (iunga) on Company ships in 1841 and was working for the R A C as an interpreter in 1844, if not earlier. According to Ushin (ARCA, D 434), who knew him in his older years, Zhukov had studied at some point at the Novo-Arkhangel'sk seminary to become a "priest for the Kolosh" but was expelled for some "disgusting deed." Given a rapid increase in the number of Tlingit converts, the Alaska Consistory requested in 1844 that he be assigned to work for it. A letter to the local R A C office by Fr. Misail, in which this reassignment of a young Tlingit Creole is requested, states that Zhukov could also work as a teacher, instructing Tlingit children in the Russian language and teaching the Tlingit language to non-Tlingit seminarians. The Company agreed to honor the Consistory's request, bringing Zhukov from Ozerskii Redoubt back to Novo-Arkhangel'sk and appointing him the official tolmach (interpreter) of the Alaska Consistory, with a salary of fifteen rubles a month, plus five rubles a month for teaching the "Kolosh" language. Zhukov must have been a talented interpreter and teacher-in 1845 Bishop Innokentii instructed the consistory to award him eight-five rubles for his diligent two years of service as a church interpreter, and especially for his work on translating the Gospel into Tlingit. In 1849-50 he received a large monetary award for translating several new chapters of the New Testament as well as other religious texts into his mother's native tongue. However, a letter from a member of the Consistory to Governor Teben'kov, dated August 1850, points out that, while Zhukov had been an excellent interpreter and did not drink, "his behavior in other respects has become so unclean in the last few years, that only a dire need forced us [the Consistory] to continue employing him. However, lately, despite all of our measures aimed at making him improve his conduct, it has become even worse, thus damaging the cause of christianizing the Kolosh. Consequently he must be removed from our service ... and sent away from Novo-Arkhangel'sk to some 131

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other Company post; in the meantime, he should at least be sent away from the town, so that he would no longer be in contact with the Kolosh" (A RCA, D 347).63 Although transferred to Kodiak by Teben'kov in 1850, he must have been needed by the Novo-Arkhangel'sk parish and brought back there, since he continued to work for the Consistory until 1852-53, when he was finally fired from his job at the Seminary and as the church's main interpreter, having been given his final monetary reward for good work. The difficult task of translating Orthodoxy into the Tlingit language was initiated by Veniaminov himself. While collecting information on Tlingit customs and beliefs in the late 1830s, he also accumulated a substantial vocabulary and began working on an outline of a basic Tlingit grammar. His Notes on the Islands of the Unalashka District contain a brief description of the "Kolosh language" as well as "an exercise in translation from Russian into Tlingit." The latter comprises nine sentences expressing some fundamental Christian concepts. This work, which Veniaminov credits to his Sitka interpreter "Dimitrii," is the first known printed (Orthodox) Christian text in the Tlingit language (Veniaminov 1886, vol. 1:658). Bishop Innokentii reproduced it (along with his sketch of the Tlingit language) in his 1845 Notes on the Kolosh and Kodiak languages . .. with a Russian-Kolosh Dictionary Containing over 1000 Words, published in St. Petersburg by the Academy of Sciences. As I have stated earlier, the quality of his Tlingit vocabulary suffered from his much more limited exposure to the Tlingit language and a shorter period of time devoted to its study, compared to his monumental Aleut research. In his work on translating Orthodox texts into Tlingit, Veniaminov also appears to have lacked the kind of skilled and knowledgeable Native helpers that he had relied on in the Aleutians. After Fr. Ioann became bishop, this project was continued by several other church workers in Novo-Arkhangel'sk in the 1840S and 1850s. In addition to Zhukov, the main job of rendering Orthodoxy into "Kolosh" fell upon Ivan Nadezhdin, another promising but troubled young church worker whose behavior eventually led to his expulsion from Russian America. 64 Born in Russia in 1828, this son of a priest studied at a parish uchilische (middle level religious school) on Kamchatka until 1844. In 1845 Bishop Innokentii (who in 1842 gave him the right to wear dalmatic) sent Nadezhdin to Novo-Arkhangel'sk to study at the seminary. In 1848 he was appointed clerk of the Alaska Consistory while he continued his studies; he finally graduated from the seminary in 1853 and had a temporary appointment as a psalmreader at St. Michael's cathedral. At the seminary Nadezhdin must have studied Tlingit with Ivan Zhukov, since some time in the late 1840S or early 1850S he began working on translating religious materials into that language. According to a letter by Innokentii, by the time he 132

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graduated from the seminary Nadezhdin could communicate freely with the Tlingit, "even on abstract subjects" (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:409 ).65It is impossible to say at this point whether the translations of the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and other religious texts which began to be read in the "Kolosh Church" in 1849 were Nadezhdin's, Zhukov's, or someone else's work (ibid.:224). However, it is clear that by the mid-1850s Nadezhdin had completed a substantial number of translations. Unfortunately his character earned him the Church's harsh criticism instead of a blessing. Letters by his superiors found in his dossier berate him for drinking, rudeness, wild conduct, debauchery, immorality, and insubordination (ARCA, B 21). During the 1855 "war" between the Russians and the Sitka Tlingit, discussed below, Nadezhdin was suspected by the RAC of some wrongdoing (sympathizing with the enemy?) and in 1855 or 1856 was permanently exiled from Novo-Arkhangel'sk to Kodiak. There he continued to work on his translations, relying on some local Tlingit-speaking Company workers for help. The local priest sent Nadezhdin's translations to Novo-Arkhangel'sk and requested a salary increase for the wayward linguist. The latter must have misbehaved again, because in 1858 he was on his way to Iakutsk. Nadezhdin remained employed by the Church as a Tlingit translator for at least another year or two, because in 1859 he wrote to Bishop Innokentii from Iakutsk about having completed the translation of the Gospel of St. Matthew, portions of which, he said, were already being read during services at Holy Trinity Church in Sitka. He also mentioned that the Tlingit were pleased to hear his translation of the liturgy during Sunday services and expressed his hope that when the "Kolosh natives" became literate and saw books printed in their own language, more of them would join the Russian Church. A few days later, Innokentii (who was now stationed in Siberia) sent Nadezhdin's translation of the St. Matthew Gospel to Bishop Petr of Novo-Arkhangel'sk, instructing him to use it in the service but only after having it read to some bilingual Tlingit who were "better versed in religious matters." He also encouraged the new bishop to have someone continue the work of improving Nadezhdin's translations. These texts did need improvement, as modern linguists have repeatedly pointed out to me (Richard Dauenhauer and Nora Marks Dauenhauer, personal communications; Michael Krauss, personal communications). According to a report of the two inspectors of Russian America, Kostlivtsev and Golovnin, published in 1863 (Doklad Komiteta 1863:table 5), some of these translations made the Tlingit laugh during the services. In addition to the major problem of rendering complex concepts expressed in Church Slavonic in a non-European language, Nadezhdin may have been prevented from producing more adequate 133

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translations by his own limited knowledge of Tlingit and by the lack of skillful bilingual helpers. Nevertheless, by the end of his career he was the author of numerous translations-from basic prayers and parts of (if not the entire) Divine Liturgy, sections of the catechism, a section of St. John's Gospel for the Easter service, as well as miscellaneous Tlingit word lists, and samples of dialogues and sentences. In 1866 Bishop Petr passed all of that material on to the Ecclesiastical Consistory-apparently in the last ten years of Russian America there was no one to continue Nadezhdin's work, even though parts of it were used for services and religious instruction. While Veniaminov's Tlingit vocabulary and especially the entire corpus of Nadezhdin's translations require a more thorough evaluation by a linguist with a much better knowledge of Tlingit than my own, I will attempt to use them to get at least some sense of the metaphors and images used by the clergy to explain Christianity to the Tlingit, which is one of our few clues to the Tlingit understanding or misunderstanding of Orthodoxy in the pre-1867 era. The Tlingit terms obtained by Veniaminov for a number of key Christian concepts are particularly revealing, since he often gives us their literal translation as well. Some of these terms seem to be a creation of the Tlingit themselves, while others may have been arrived at by Fr. loann and his interpreters in their effort to find adequate Native glosses for new ideas. When one looks at the Tlingit labels for Orthodox ritual practices, one recurring theme appears to be an emphasis on the physical act itself. Thus to "pray" is literally translated as "to bow with one's face" or "dance to the face,"66 while "baptize" is rendered as "immerse in water," and the word "priest" is glossed by a Tlingit expression meaning "the one who dips people in water." Such translations are understandable-the first thing that a Tlingit observer of unfamiliar Orthodox customs would most likely focus on were the ritual acts rather than the theological meanings behind them. Since baptism was the first Orthodox sacrament they themselves participated in, it colored their entire perception of the role of the priest. Similarly, the church is described as kaneisti hit, "the house of a crosS."67 For the initial stage of Tlingit Christianization such terms were probably quite adequate. Some of the terms used by Nadezhdin (and/or his Tlingit-speaking consultants) to translate the more abstract Christian concepts were also well chosen. For example, "blessed" (as in "blessed are the poor in spirit") is translated with the help of the Tlingit term la;:os.eitl, which stood for "luck" or "good fortune." Through this word Tlingit neophytes could more easily relate their own concepts of gaining special (spiritual or superhuman) good fortune by observing rules of proper conduct or using powerful magical objects to the idea of being blessed through the partaking of the sacraments and prayer. The central Christian con134

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cept of "sin" is translated with the help of two Tlingit terms, ligaas l'ushk'e, the first meaning "taboo" or "forbidden," and the second referring to something bad or the evil itself. Of course, ligaas was a somewhat more concrete concept than "sin"; it often referred to a prohibited or dangerous food or act (see chapter 1). However, in some contexts it did signify improper or immoral behavior (e.g., mistreatment of small creatures), which could lead to misfortune. It must have taken the Orthodox missionaries a long time to explain to their Tlingit converts what they meant by sin. Veniaminov's choice of the Tlingit kaa yahaayi (a person's reflection or reincarnated spirit) for the Russian dusha (soul) was a pretty good one, and so was his rendering of the Christian concept of "spirit" (Russian dukh) with the help of the Tlingit daseikw, meaning "breath" or "life." Most interesting is Veniaminov's choice of the term Haa [our] Shagoon for the Christian "God." Here he tried to use one of the central and multifocal concepts of the Tlingit worldview, instead of coining a new term or imposing an element of Christian cosmology, as suggested by the standard term Dikee Aankaawu ("Chief/ High-ranking/Wealthy Man Up Above") used in the late nineteenth century by Orthodox and Protestant missionaries alike. As we have seen in the first chapter, in the pre-Christian Tlingit worldview, haa shagoon stood for the collective sacred ancestral heritage and destiny, which could be appealed to for help in cases of extreme danger. In some contexts, the Raven himself could be referred to by this term as well. Veniaminov's good grasp of some aspects of that traditional worldview is demonstrated here by the fact that he used shagoon only with the first person plural pronoun haa, which was linguistically and culturally appropriate. Less successful were Veniaminov' sand N adezhdin' s attempts to find Tlingit glosses for Orthodoxy's cosmological and eschatological ideas. Here the two worldviews were so different that mistakes were a lot easier to make. Thus, Veniaminov's choice ofthe word kooteeyaa for "idol," used by subsequent generations of Orthodox and non-Orthodox missionaries, was an unfortunate one. The Tlingit used it to refer to totem poles and other carved representations of crests, which they "respected" but never prayed to. Veniaminov's own ethnography seems to suggest that, yet the term he chose cast the Tlingit in the role of idolworshippers, typically assigned to the "heathens" by the Christians. "Heaven" and "Hell" were particularly difficult to translate. Bishop Innokentii's dictionary lists the term daganku, which he correctly translates as "the place where the spirits of the dead dwell," for "heaven," and l'ushkeiyi ye for "hell," which he himself explains as "the worst kind of place where there is nothing good." The problem was that most of the Tlingit dead went to daganku, regardless of whether they were good or bad. The entirely new concept of the "devil" is translated as "s'igeekaawu," which simply means "ghost." Nadezhdin's translation of "heaven" as kiwaa-the 135

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heavenly abode of slain warriors and murder victims-must have raised a few Tlingit eyebrows and could have contributed to some serious theological misunderstandings. Thus the Christian "Lord in Heaven," presented to early converts as Haa Shagoon DiMe Kiwaa, may have appeared to them as a god of war, the leader of brave warriors killed in battle. Some ofVeniaminov's and Nadezhdin's terminology was likely to help explain certain Orthodox concepts to the Tlingit and even to encourage their syncretism with indigenous concepts, but other expressions they used must have further complicated the proselytizing process. 68 With Trinity Church in place and religious texts and prayers becoming available in Tlingit, Fr. Litvintsev had reason to express his high hopes for the cause of Native conversion to his bishop.6 9 However, because of the shortage of priests, being a missionary among the "Kolosh" was only one of Fr. Petr's dutiesJo Nevertheless, from 1849 to 1851 he managed to attract another substantial group of converts, the Sitka Tlingit parish consisting of about 171 men and 153 women by the end of 1850 and 198 men and 184 women by the end of 1851, which constituted anywhere from 25 to 30 percent of the total population of the Sitka Kwaan (A RCA, D 407). The young priest continued to strictly adhere to Bishop Innokentii's policy of giving the newly-baptized "Kolosh" no gifts except small body icons and crosses (Tikhmenev 1978:384). Since Church statistics and Litvintsev's (usually enthusiastic) reports to Bishop Innokentii are practically the only data on the religious life of the Orthodox Tlingit during this period, it is difficult to get a good sense of its texture. What we do know is that, compared to the early 1840S, more people had confession and communion, although they were still a minority in relation to the entire Tlingit parishJ' Still, many people received communion only once in several years (A R CA, D 416). According to Fr. Petr's 1850-51 reports, the Tlingit were beginning to listen to sermons, pray, and generally pay more attention to the priest. A few more children were also being baptized during this period than ever beforeonce Tlingit women began joining the church in large numbers, they obviously wished to make sure that their offspring enjoyed the protection and blessing that the Church could offer them. Still the number of baptized children remained relatively small-it is possible that many of the younger adults, who still predominated among the Orthodox Tlingit, did not have children or were still seeing the Church as a political ally and not a more embracing institution to which their entire family had to belong. The rank and Kwaan affiliation of the Tlingit parishioners of this period is also difficult to establish. They were probably mainly from Sitka, but a number of outsiders must also have gotten baptized during this time, some of them returning to their Kwaans and spreading Orthodox beliefs and customs among their kin. High-ranking headmen appear to have 136

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remained outside the Church-the ony toen listed in the church records of this period is the Russian-appointed "head chief of the Sitka Kolosh." Despite this significant increase in the number of converts to Orthodoxy between the early 1840S and the early 1850S, there is very little evidence of any serious effect of the Church's teaching on the Tlingit social and ceremonial life, above and beyond the very limited "civilizing" influences of the RAC mentioned earlier. Even though the Church was powerless to make these converts change their ways, many Sitkans remained skeptical of the whole idea of being baptized and having to attend services in Trinity Church. When asked why they were holding back, many replied, "Why should we get baptized? Is it to become like the Russians-liars, debauched and immoral persons?" Bishop Innokentii, who reported this, wrote that it was very difficult for the missionaries to respond to such challenges (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:306). This suggests that, as in the previous decades, many of the Tlingit continued to identify the An60shi religion with the people themselves and were keenly aware of the discrepancy between what the clergy preached and how many of N ovo-Arkhangel' sk' s Russians, Creoles, and Natives lived. This must have been a major factor keeping most of the aristocrats away from the kaneist hit-they undoubtedly looked down on the lower classes inhabiting the Russian town. They also must have preferred worshipping with the R A C elite in St. Michael's Cathedral to joining their own lowerranking kin in Holy Trinity Church (see below). Of course, as long as many of the lineage heads remained outside the Church, so did their junior kin.

The Troubled 1850S In the 1850S the Tlingit resistance to conversion had a lot to do with the fact that this was a period of deterioration in Russian-Tlingit relations brought about by new policies pursued by the less capable and more frequently changing successors of Etholen and Teben'kov. Rozenberg, Rudakov, and Voevodskii, the three governors who ruled Russian America in the 1850s, did not try to maintain their predecessors' policy of feasting the Tlingit during an annual fair or hiring them in large numbers to work for the Company (cf. Golovin 1862:49). During the 1850S the steamboat Nikolai rarely visited the outlying Native villages, and the purchase of furs from the "Kolosh" almost came to a standstill-the new management seemed to be more afraid of sending trading expeditions in to the "straits" than their predecessors (cf. Grinev 1991:162). Undoubtedly upset by the cancellation of the annual "An6oshi koo.eex'" and the renewed suspiciousness that the Russians were clearly showing, the Tlingit began engaging in more frequent provocations against the fort and its inhabit137

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ants, including minor altercations and fights that took place in the Kolosh market and the nearby woods. During one such confrontation in 1850, Governor Rosenberg announced to the Sitkans through Mikhail Koopc'an that if they continued such behavior he would close down their market. The Tlingit responded with an attempt to capture the fort, but the Russian soldiers' readiness to fight prevented any blood from being spilled (Grinev 1991:163). In 1851 the "Kolosh" made several attacks on Russian fishermen and stole some fish after breaking part of a nearby fish storage (ibid.). Russian vegetable gardens were also frequently pilfered by the younger Tlingit men who seemed to have decided once again to stop treating the Russians with "respect." This worsened atmosphere in Lingit-Anooshi relations was aggravated by a major crisis that occurred in 1852 and manifested itself most dramatically in another one which took place three years later. These events demonstrated how limited Christianity's influence on the Tlingit still was. The first crisis was an internal Tlingit affair-a bloody massacre of visitors from the Stikine ]swaan by the Sitkans-into which the RAC was drawn, to a certain extent. The enmity between the Naanyaayee clan of Stikine and the Kaagwaantaan clan of Chilkat and Sitka, both of which belonged to the Eagle/Wolf moiety, had been going on for several decades prior to this tragedy. Most existing accounts of the cause of this hostility blame it on an elopement by the wife of a Sitka Kaagwaantaan with a Naanyaayee man (Olson 1967:77-78; Kashevaroff n.d.; de Laguna 1972:279-84). The Russians were aware of one unsuccessful raid by the Sitkans on Stikine and a major defeat of the Sitka and Chilkat Kaagwaantaan and their allies by the Naanyaayee in 1829, which the Kaagwaantaan blamed on the shortage of ammunition (Grinev 1991:163-64). Various skirmishes between the two groups continued throughout the 1830 and 1840s, the number of dead on the Sitka side becoming much greater than those among their enemies, making the Sitka Kaagwaantaan warriors determined to avenge the deaths of their kin. Other clans of the two ]swaans, including those belonging to the Raven moiety, were also drawn into the conflict. A formal peace settlement initiated by the Naanyaayee in 1851 cooled things down a bit, but the Kaagwaantaan were not satisfied. The Sitkans avoided visiting Stikine and the Stikines sent only occasional small trading parties into the Sitka ]swaan's territory even though they were attracted by trading opportunities in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, especially after the closing of Fort Stikine (former Dionis'evskii Redoubt) by the British in 1848 (Grinev 1991:163-64). In fact, the Stikine people's relations with the Russians remained good, which may have been one of the reasons for their agreement to visit Sitka for a feast and another peace ceremony-it is conceivable that they were hoping that their Russian allies would protect them. 138

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According to Russian soUrces corroborated by Tlingit oral traditions, in February 1852 a party of fifty visitors-men, women, and children-under toen Tanaiak (sp.?) arrived in Sitka. During a peace dance inside one of the Kaagwaantaan houses, Kaagwaantaan warriors, led by a high-ranking man named Yaakwaan, pulled out their knives and daggers hidden under the blankets they were wearing and killed most of their trapped guests, including their leader. A few of the women, who were not Naanyaayee but were married to them, as well as the son of Tanaiak, were allowed to escape and found refuge in the Russian town. The Sitkans lost only a couple of people (de Laguna 1972:279-84; Kan 1979-95).72 Although the R A C administration found out about the planned attack one hour before it took place, Governor Rozenberg decided to remain neutral, justifying his position by appealing to one of the paragraphs of the RAC charter, which prohibited Company officials from interfering in the internal affairs of "independent natives," unless the latter requested assistance themselves. In subsequent discussions of the events of 1852, R A C headquarters criticized him for allowing so many lives to be lost just outside the walls of Novo-Arkhangel'sk (Doklad Komiteta ... 1863:490-91). It is difficult to say what the Sitkans's response would have been had the governor intervened to prevent the killing, but it does appear that by not interfering he demonstrated to the Tlingit that the Russians were not strong enough and must have antagonized RAC'S former Stikine allies. Expecting a Stikine retaliation, the Sitkans were also in a nervous and hostile mood following the event, engaging in frequent target practices next door to the fort. At one point they even tried to storm its walls. Warned about this plan in advance by a friendly Chilkat leader, Rozenberg undertook some countermeasures and also threatened to bombard the Tlingit village, which finally restored a certain calm. For a while the "Kolosh market" had to be closed, but the Tlingit themselves asked the Company to reopen it. The Russians also suffered from Stikine anger. In their search of the Kaagwaantaan, they mistakenly attacked and destroyed a tiny Russian settlement at nearby Hot Springs.73 This attack further upset the Sitkans, who were now expecting retaliation from the Russians. By agreeing to turn three of their Kaagwaantaan warriors over to the Company as hostages, the Sitkans achieved an uneasy truce with the An60shi for the rest of 1852 and 1853. However, Voevodskii, who replaced Rozenberg in 1854, decided to try an even harsher approach to dealing with the Tlingit, moving even further away from the "respectful" treatment of the "Kolosh" practiced by the 1840S governors. Thus he was opposed to the hiring of Tlingit workers, arguing that the good wages they were making were deterring them from hunting and fishing, thus depriving 139

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Novo-Arkhangel'sk of fresh food. He also insulted the Tlingit leaders by barring them from their customary visits to the Russian town for trading purposes. In retaliation, the Tlingit simply stopped working for the Company and used every opportunity to show their disappointment with it. This forced the governor to beef up the town's garrison and even request additional soldiers from Siberia, fearing that the British, who had been the enemies of Russia since the beginning of the Crimean War in 1853, would engage in anti-Russian agitation among the Natives (Golovin 1863:337; Grinev 1991:166-67). While the "Sitka massacre" of 1852 created new security problems for the RA c, the missionaries were worried about its effects on the mood of the Native converts and on their further Christianization. They were also troubled by the fact that Christian Tlingit were among those involved in the slaughter of the Stikines. A letter by Bishop Innokentii, written to the ober-prokuror of the Synod a few months after the massacre, states that the Sitkans had invited the Stikines and had killed about forty of them "in broad daylight. The main culprit was one of the pagan chiefs who managed to involve many of the baptized ones into this. The Sitkans are now frightened and do not go far from the village, which eventually was going to lead to shortages of fresh fish and other foods in N ovo-Arkhangel' sk. It is hard to say whether we are going to be safe when this affair is resolved" (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:391-92). While Innokentii blamed a "pagan chief' for instigating the attack on the Stikine guests, the fact that Russian records refer to Yaakwaan, the attackers' leader, as "Alexander" suggests that he had already been baptized. Governor Rozenberg also mentioned in his reports that pagan and Christian "Kolosh" alike killed the Stikines and scalped them (Grinev 1991:164-65, 259). Church statistics confirm that baptism was either not on the mind of most Sitkans in the aftermath of this bloody event or that the clergy itself was rather nervous about spending much time proselytizing in the Native village. Thus only 19 people, 17 of them women, became Orthodox in 1852. In 1853 the situation improved somewhat, with about 40 persons joining the church, whose Tlingit membership now stood at about 400 (ARCA, D 406-7, 413-14). The fact that more women were joining the church might have had something to do with their mood being less affected by the "massacre." In fact, Litvintsev did report to the bishop that the women were now fulfilling their Christian duties much better than the men. They were more obedient and attended church services more frequently, teaching their children and even their husbands to do the same (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:407-9). Litvintsev, who always seemed to look for the silver lining, continued to report to Innokentii that, a year after the massacre, missionary work was proceeding quite successfully. As he put it, "I have not seen any [Tlingitl person resisting the Gospel 140

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teaching; they listen to it carefully and patiently, and then willingly accept holy baptism; in most cases, they volunteer to be baptized without any material advantage" (ibid.). However, Fr. Petr's own admission that the newly baptized were even willing "to suffer large and small insults from their numerous unbaptized brethren" (ibid.) indicates that there was more hostility toward the Church now than there had been in the late 1830S and 1840S. Nevertheless, some of the Tlingit who had become members of the church seem to have begun taking its teaching more seriously-whether it was an increased use of the Tlingit language in the services or Fr. Litvintsev's eloquent preaching, or some shift in the converts' worldview itself, is difficult to say. In any event, according to his reports the baptized Sitkans went to church more regularly, had their confession and communion, and even received the sacraments of the holy unction before death and had the priest take part in the funeral service. Again, the Sitka priest was exaggerating his success-according to the Trinity Church's Confessional Records for 1852 (ARCA, D 416), only 10 percent of the Orthodox Tlingit had their confession and communion. No clear explanation is provided for their failure to fulfill their religious duties; the records simply say "because of their inability" (po nevozmozhnosti). I wonder how well those few who did have confession understood what constituted sin, and how effective their communication with the priest administering confession was.74 Despite this, there were some new developments that must have given Fr. Petr reasons to be optimistic; one of them was a certain decline of the shamans' power and influence. According to him, some of the baptized Tlingit were no longer listening to them. The other factor was directly related to the drama of 1852: Litvintsev claimed that some of his Native parishioners refused to be persuaded by the influential Kaagwaantaan to take part in feuds and quarrels. One of the members of Fr. Petr's flock allegedly "forgave an insult, something the pagans never do"! (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:407-9). The priest also reported that at least some of those Sitkans who had not taken part in the massacre were troubled by it and continued to debate its pros and cons (ibid.). The fact that the massacre was not uniformly praised is not surprising-it was a pretty treacherous affair, even by the standards of Tlingit warfare, and was bound to spoil Sitka's relations with the Stikines for years to come. Whether Orthodox Natives used the Christian rhetoric to criticize the Kaagwaantaan action is difficult to say, although such a possibility does exist. The missionaries, of course, were searching for any evidence of the "wild Koloshs' " change of heart. A new major crisis in Tlingit-Russian relations, which occurred on March 10 (or 11), 1855, must have disappointed the clergy greatly. On that day several Sitka 141

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men attacked and seriously wounded a Russian sailor guarding the Company woodshed and trying to prevent them from helping themselves to the wood. According to my own sources (Kan 1979-95), Tlingit men saw the act of taking Company wood as a form of revenge for various insults, especially the mistreatment of Tlingit women. Voevodskii's report, cited by Grinev (1991:167), paints a very different picture; in his interpretation, Tlingit men were trying to steal the firewood, which they themselves had sold to the Company, in order to resell it again, something they had done on many occasions in the past. Whatever the actual cause of this confrontation was, it quickly developed into the worst violent conflict between the Tlingit and the Russians since the Sitkans' attack on the old "Fort St. Michael" in 1802 and the "battle of Sitka" in 1804. Following the Tlingit attack on the unfortunate sailor, Voevodskii demanded from the Sitka leaders that the culprits leave Sitka immediately, never to come back. The Tlingit responded by arming themselves with guns and threatening to attack the fort. The Russian garrison was put on full alert. Two blank cannon shots were fired, but this only embittered the Sitkans further. Some of them began dismantling the palisade walls, others tried to penetrate the fort from the water, while another party tried to sneak into the town from the woods. One of the attackers' shots killed a Company employee guarding the "Kolosh battery." In retaliation, the Russians opened heavy fire, forcing the Tlingit to retreat and hide behind large rocks and tree stumps, from where they continued firing guns at the fort. A group of attackers took over Trinity Church and used it as a fortification, firing guns from its windows. Only after the Russians responded by firing their cannons from the fort, did the Tlingit, having suffered substantial losses, begin peace negotiations. The Russians lost six or seven people and also had nineteen wounded; the Tlingit losses are more difficult to establish-existing estimates range from 50 to 80 (Grinev 1991:168-69; Pierce 1990:530-31; Tikhmenev 1863, Part 2:207-8; Golovin 1863:341; Doklad Komiteta ... 1863:81). While most Russian sources, with the exception of Golovin (1863:340), saw the outcome of the battle as a victory for the Russians, I tend to agree with Grinev (1991:169) who believes that, although the Russians did have the upper hand in this conflict, there were really no winners or losers in it. The losses suffered by the Sitkans may have cooled the hotheads among their warriors, since this was the last violent confrontation in Novo-Arkhangel'sk between the Tlingit and the Whites. The cause of Tlingit Christianization, however, did suffer a severe blow. The "Kolosh" not only desecrated their own church by firing shots from it but had actually pillaged its ritual objects and vestments. The memory of this attack remained fresh in the minds of Sitka's elderly Russian and Creole inhabitants who provided several Church writers in the late nineteenth and the beginning of 142

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the twentieth centuries with some interesting details about that event. Over the years the accounts of the "war ofI855" -of both the bravery of the Russians and the treachery of the Kolosh-undoubtedly acquired some mythical qualities, so that some of the violence committed by the Native attackers may have been exaggerated. Nevertheless, it is clear that Tlingit anger against the Russians was much stronger than any possible respect for the Church or fear of desecrating this sacred space. Given the fact that over 400 Sitkans had already been baptized when the "war" occurred, at least some of the attackers must have been wearing Orthodox crosses. Equally telling is the fact than none of the baptized Tlingit tried to intervene and prevent the kaneistdi hit from being used as a fortification. According to an article written in 1908 (R OA M, vol. l2:108-13) on the basis of the local Russian oral tradition and the reminiscences of the few remaining eyewitnesses of the event, the Russian garrison, having obtained the clergy's permission, opened heavy gun and cannon fire at the church. Realizing eventually that they could not match the cannon fire, the Tlingit began "venting their military ardor" at the church paraphernalia-kicking icons off the walls, breaking all of the church's cups and plates, cutting holes in church vestments. Before retreating, some of the attackers allegedly put on church vestments, which they might have perceived as Russian at.6ow, that is, an appropriate trophy.75 The nature of this attack on Novo-Arkhangel'sk, especially the Tlingit efforts to tear down the Russian palisade, demonstrates that they were very unhappy about being kept out of the Russian town. As one of my oldest teachers, Charlie Joseph, Sr., a life-long member of the Russian Church in Sitka, once told me, "the Russians were OK but they should not have kept us out by building that wall around their town" (Kan 1979-95). Trinity Church, which was actually stradling that wall, may also have been perceived as an instrument of exclusion rather than inclusion. As we shall see later, throughout the 1860s the Sitka Tlingit, and especially the aristocracy, continued to show their preference for attending the more beautiful and spacious St. Michael's Cathedral where most of the Russians prayed, rather than the smaller "Kolosh Church." Their destruction of church paraphernalia and the capture of some of it as valuable war booty indicates that reverential respect for any object connected with the church, which they developed after 1867, was still foreign to most of them. In the aftermath of the war, and particularly with the damage caused to Trinity Church,76 it became very difficult for the Russian clergy to labor among the Tlingit. Although the church was reconsecrated in 1857 by Archbishop Innokentii himself,77 church records indicate no increase in Tlingit membership in 1856-58 and a slight decline in 1859-60. Fr. Litvintsev's 1858 report to Bishop Innokentii describes the problems missionaries were now faced with as follows: 143

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"The church had been pillaged during the war and in order to avoid the danger from them [the Tlingit], it was forbidden to gather them in any other place or visit their homes .... Once the church had been repaired and reconsecrated, the western doors, which they had used to enter the church, were no longer opened. The Kolosh were now let into the church through the market under guard and no more than 15 to 20 persons at a time, which offended them, but was, of course, considered a necessary precaution after the war with them" (Veniaminov 1886-88, vol. 2:481-82). As for the "spiritual state of the baptized Kolosh," even the usually enthusiastic Litvintsev could only say that "there was nothing extraordinary about it." Nevertheless, he claimed that the Orthodox Tlingit were fulfilling their religious duties well and that their non baptized relatives not only did not interfere with their religious life but were even willing to listen to the Gospel teaching; a few of them were even asking to be baptized. The second biggest obstacle to further Christianization of the Sitkans, according to Litvintsev, was the absence of good interpreters (ibid.). Finally, in 1858 Litvintsev himself left Alaska for Irkutsk. In addition, with the transfer of the archbishop's seat to Siberia and the division of the diocese into two vicariates that same year, the number of clergymen assigned to Sitka decreased. As a result, Trinity Church would not have its own full-time priest for quite some time. One area in which the Russians had made a certain impact on Tlingit spiritual culture was ideas about and ways of dealing with illness. According to Dr. Govorlivyi (n.d. [1861]), who was the Company's chief physician in NovoArkhangel'sk between the early 1850S and 1860, during that decade the Tlingit developed a much greater trust in Russian medicine, while their beliefs in witchcraft as the main cause of disease and in the power of shamans gradually continued to decline. It is possible that the missionaries' preaching also had something to do with the shamans' fortunes declining during that period. Thus, according to Litvintsev's 1853 report to Bishop Innokentii, "The shamans themselves have lately shown some weakening-two of them have given up their shamanic garments (which they used to treasure greatly); one of them had even cut his hair" (Barsukov 1897-1901, vol. 1:407-9). The acts he described were indeed radical and suggest that at least some of the Native religious practitioners were giving up their craft, unable to combat new diseases or resist the spread of the An60shi religion. Still, the shamans were not yet ready to surrender to the priests, not to mention the outlying villages where their power and influence remained largely unchallenged. It is more likely that the energetic activities of Dr. Govorlivyi and his staff, rather than cautious religious propaganda, were making an impact on the Tlingit 144

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worldview. According to Govorlivyi (n.d.:3), prior to the 1850S, whenever a Tlingit died while being treated by Russian doctors, his or her relatives blamed the Russians, especially if the treatment was administered at the Sitka hospital. Applying their own law of atonement, they demanded that the An60shi healers pay for the life lost. By the mid-1850S many Tlingit began to accept the idea that the Russian doctors were indeed trying to help and that they were not responsible for the death of their patients. Consequently more and more Tlingit began coming to the Novo-Arkhangel'sk hospital to stay or, more often, to ask for some medication. To protect themselves, the Russians always warned them that they might die there and that the doctors would not bear any responsibility for their deaths. Similarly, Tlingit women afflicted with venereal diseases were no longer resentful of being forced to be confined to a special part of that same hospital for treatment (ibid.:4). An association of Russian doctors with witchcraft,78 which, according to Govorlivyi (n.d.:4), existed in the previous decade, was pretty much abandoned in the 1850S. To illustrate this point, Govorlivyi recounted an interesting episode involving his visit to a house in the Sitka village where a shaman was trying to help a patient whose illness had been attributed to witchcraft. The head of the house must have been friendly toward the Russians since after the seance he showed his visitors the certificates given to him by former R A C officials, which stated that he was a "relatively honest man, as far as the Kolosh go," and had offered various services to the Russians. He then asked Govorlivyi to treat the sick woman who seemed not to have gotten any better after the i2ft' had worked on her. The Russian doctor asked the man why he would not trust the shaman who had just announced that the woman had been made sick by many witches and would not survive until the fall. The man replied that he did not believe the i2ft'. Luckily for the doctor, he was able to save the woman's life and thus undermine his less successful Native rival (ibid.). While Govorlivyi saw the episode as a sign of Tlingit abandonment of shamanism, it is more likely that they were simply adding Russian medicine to the arsenal of various curing methods available to them, just as they were beginning to add Russian body crosses and other holy objects to the various traditional objects used for protection.

The Last Decade of Russian America While Tlingit-Russian relations in the 1850S can be characterized as a mixture of conflicts and some continued cooperation in several areas, the last decade of the Russian presence in Lingit aani was a time of more amicable relations, a return to 145

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the patterns of interaction which characterized the 1840S. In the late 1850S, top government officials in Russia, including the emperor's brother, AdmiralGeneral Konstantin, began contemplating pulling out of Russian America. Among the various reasons for this sentiment, which have been explored in a number of Western and Russian works (e.g., Kushner 1975; Bolkhovitinov 1990), one should mention the fear of the Russian colony being overrun by the rapidly increasing population of British Columbia (the consequence of the 1858 gold rush) and the general reorientation of Russia's Pacific activities to its recently acquired territories along the Amur River and in the Far East. Determined to maintain friendly relations with the United States, many top officials of Russia believed that it was in its best interests to cede its Alaskan colony to the young republic. Finally, to the liberal Russian reformers of the late 1850S and early 1860s, the paternalistic monopoly maintained by the RAC over Russian America appeared anachronistic. Exaggerated fears of N ovo-Arkhangel' sk' s vulnerability to Tlingit attack also contributed to this sentiment, even though they were not shared by either Russian America's governors or many of the Company directors back in Russia. Paradoxically, while the sale of Alaska to the United States was being discussed in St. Petersburg, the Company's financial situation improved significantly after the disastrous years of the Crimean War. To gather arguments for withdrawing from North America, Prince Konstatin appointed an independent inspection team consisting of Councillor Sergei Kostlivtsev (representing the Finance Ministry) and Captain Pavel Golovin (representing the Ministry of the Navy). The two officials arrived in Novo-Arkhangel'sk in late 1860 and remained there until the spring of 1861. Their printed reports, which turned out to be much less critical of the R A C' s activities than their superiors had hoped, provide us with valuable information on Russian-Tlingit relations, including the state of Tlingit Orthodoxy (Doklad 1863; Golovin 1862, 1863, 1979, 1983). These relations improved considerably under Voevodskii's successor, Ivan (Johan) Furugelm (Furuhjelm), who pursued Etholen's and Teben'kov's policy of rapprochement with the Tlingit. Once again, the RAe began hiring quite a few Sitkans as workers (Golovin 1862:133) and increased the amount of "Kolosh" trade. In 1860 the Company steamship Nikolai I resumed its visits to the villages of the Inside Passage, and when it struck rocks near the village of Neltushkin in Chatham Strait the local Tlingit demonstrated their friendliness by helping to tow it close to shore and salvage its cargo (Tikhmenev 1978:363). Anxious to resume trading with the An60shi and to keep up with the Sitkans, the Stikines and other outlying Kwaans were inviting the RAe to establish posts in their territories or at least visit them more often.7 9 Even those communities "in the straits" that were not as anxious to embrace the Russians as the Stikines, the

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Xootsnoowu and several other kwaans, were now "willing to tolerate the Russians" (Golovin 1862:47-48). In the vicinity of Novo-Arkhangel'sk, the RAC was finally beginning to have some "civilizing" influence on those Native customs that it found particularly offensive. Using mostly persuasion, rather than threats, the Company had finally managed to eradicate all, or at least most, of the ritualized killing of slaves during funerals and memorial potlatches. By the early 1860s, it had become customary for an owner not to kill his slaves but sell or sometimes donate them to the Company. Symbolically destroyed, the slave remained in Novo-Arkhangel'sk and was supported by the RAC in return for the work he or she did for it (Prilozhenie k Dokladu 1863:490). While Company officials must have been pleased with being able to put an end to "murder" in their own backyard, Captain Golovin (ibid.:313) pointed out that, outside of Sitka, slave-killing continued, and that occasionally even Sitka headmen would take their slaves to a nearby village and kill them there. Kostlivtsev, a liberal, fresh out of St. Petersburg (Doklad 1863:70), was appalled to see that while the serfs were finally being freed in Russia, in Russian America Tlingit toens continued to own and sacrifice slaves, and all that R A C officials could do was to buy them using Company funds or donations by its employees. In response to his and Golovin's criticism, R A C officials wrote that prohibiting slavery altogether was not an easy task. As they pointed out, by placing itself between the toens and their slaves the Company would seriously antagonize the former. If it were to take slaves from them by force there would be no place to put them: they could not be kept in Sitka, and if they were sent to the other Company posts, this would mean showing the toens that the RAC was obtaining the slaves for its own use (ibid.:490). Another sign of the Company's increased (though still limited) influence on Tlingit life was Furugelm's successful interference in a major interclan dispute in Sitka, which could have led to a very serious confrontation. The dispute occurred while Kostlivtsev and Golovin were in Novo-Arkhangel'sk and involved a Sitka and a Yakutat clan-most likely they were two rival Raven moiety clans, the Kiks.adi and the L'uknaE.adi. The trouble appears to have started during a previous year's feast in which the hosts outsang their L'uknaE.adi guests from Yakutat who had come to Sitka to trade. Determined not to lose face, the Yakutat singers came back a year later equipped with new songs acquired from their Copper River neighbors and carrying knives, just in case. Impressed with their guests' performance, the Sitkans "fought back" with some new songs learned from the Aleuts. Enraged, the visitors fell upon their rivals with knives. To avoid repeating Rosenberg's mistake of 1852 and to prevent the escalation of interclan and intertribal fighting from interfering with the Company's "Kolosh" trade, 147

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Furugelm decided to intervene. The fact that the fighting started at the house of KooKx'an, the "head chief of the Sitka Kolosh," and that several other Orthodox Tlingit were involved must have contributed to the governor's resolve. Instead of standing back and watching the fighting, he ordered the cannon on the battery facing the Native village to be elevated and rockets prepared. He then informed the Tlingit, who had assembled near the palisade and were brandishing their weapons, that if they did not immediately disperse to their homes and cease rioting, he would destroy their entire settlement. The Natives shouted that the Russians had no business interfering in their fighting but, realizing that Furugelm meant business (even though his threat was obviously an exaggeration), they returned to their homes. As a result of the RAC'S interference, the feuding parties decided to settle the dispute with a peace ceremony and a gift exchange. Although angered at first by the An60shi interference in their affairs, they may have come to appreciate the opportunity to avoid major bloodshed that Furugelm's decisive action had given them. As if to underscore their friendly attitude toward the Russians, the disputants brought the men who had suffered wounds during the altercation to the Russian doctor, rather than to their own healers, for treatment (Golovin 1983:103-5).80 Concerned with the spread of venereal disease in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, governor Furugelm also attempted to interfere more forcefully with the rather unregulated sexual relations between Company employees and Tlingit women. According to Golovin (Prilozhenie k Dokladu 1863:378-79), venereal disease was acquired by the Sitka Tlingit from their relatives living "in the straits," who in turn had contracted it from American and British sailors. Most of the Native prostitutes in Sitka had been afflicted by it and were spreading it to many of the RAe employees and soldiers. Immediately upon his arrival in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, Furugelm, "having at once destroyed all the huts built near the port ... where this debauchery was secretly practiced, allocated some funds to build a special building near the Swan Lake, which he then placed under supervision." From time to time, Kolosh women staying there were taken to the hospital for medical examination-the sick ones are kept there for treatment and the healthy ones let go. Initially they resented having their freedom infringed upon and ran away from the hospital after a couple of days. This prompted Furugelm to threaten to have half of the hair shaved off the head of any woman who escaped treatment. Golovin claimed that despite their initial resentment of this harsh order the "Kolosh saw the benefit of medical treatment and even asked for it themselves" (ibid.). The Novo-Arkhangel'sk men continued to resort to their own method of protecting themselves from contamination-purchasing female slaves from wealthy Tlingit and supporting them as their mistresses. HI

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While the R A C continued to rely on Mikhail Kooxx' aan as the "head chief of the Sitka Kolosh," described by Golovin (1983:95) as being "completely loyal to the Russians," and to support him with a handsome annual salary of 360 rubles, it finally realized that a Kiks.adi aristocrat could not have much influence on clans other than his own (Prilozhenia k Dokladu 1863:89). To strengthen and broaden its ties with the Sitka community, the Company chose an influential Kaagwaantaan leader, Katliak, who was baptized with a great deal of pomp during Kostlivtsev's and Golovin's visit. Contrary to Bishop Innokentii's policy of not providing newly converted Natives with wealthy godparents and gifts, the Company asked Kostlivtsev to be Katliak's godfather. From the visiting Anooshi aanJgiawu, the Kagwaantaan leader received his first name, patronimic, and last name, thus becoming "Sergei Sergeev Kostlivtsev" (A RCA, D 416). Sergei's annual salary of 240 rubles indicated that he was Sitka's "second chief' after Kooxx'an. While the disparity in the two salaries must have annoyed Katliak and his clan, the RAC finally had influential allies in the two leading clans of both moieties. Furugelm also revived the 1840S "ugrushkas," although on a smaller scale-twice a year all of the local headmen were invited to the governor's house for a feast. In addition, the Company provided Mikhail Kooxx'an with special funds to feast Tlingit dignitaries at his own house. The latter also continued their customary visits to military and civil officials passing through Sitka. One such visit, involving Kostlivtsev and Golovin, was a particularly elaborate affair and indicated how well the Tlingit understood the hierarchical nature of Russian society (Golovin 1983:95-98). The two inspectors, interested in meeting the local Native leaders, approached Kooxx'an and asked if he could arrange a meeting with them. The latter agreed to deliver the invitation but insisted that it was up to the Tlingit headmen to decide whether they wished to be bothered. A few days later, after the chiefs' consent had been given, they were met by Furugelm, Kostlivtsev, and Golovin, who sat in a row across from about thirty toens dressed in traditional (crest-decorated) regalia with some European pieces of clothing added. Dignified speeches were exchanged, the "Kolosh" speakers emphasizing that the days when they had been abused by the Russians were over and that they were now enjoying the fact that the "Russian had become friendly with them." They blamed occasional minor confrontations on the liquor that was making some of the hotheads in their midst a bit quarrelsome, but pledged to maintain peace. The most interesting speech was delivered by an elderly man who used typical traditional rhetorical devices to express his people's happiness about meeting the representatives of the Russian emperor (cf. Dauenhauer and Dauenhauer 1990b:131-34). The most remarkable thing about his oration was its acknowledgment of the 149

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similarity between the Christian religion of the Russians and the baptized Tlingit, on the one hand, and those who, like himself, continued to adhere to the indigenous beliefs. This suggests that while not all of the Sitkans were anxious to get baptized and accept the missionaries' argument that Christianity was superior to their own "pagan" beliefs, the decades of their exposure to Orthodoxy and conversations with the clergy, the lay Russians, and their own Christian relatives must have been forcing the non-Christians among them to objectify their own traditional beliefs and emphasize the monotheistic elements, which probably had existed there but had not been central to the precontact religion. Here is what this elder said: The Russians and the baptized Kolosh believe in God and Jesus Christ who are in heaven. When the weather is bad, for a long time they pray and ask God to give them good weather. Sometimes they pray for one, two, three days. Finally God listens to their prayer and sends them good weather. Weare not baptized but we also believe in God who is in heaven. We prayed to God, not one day, not two days, but several days, and God listened to our prayer and allowed us to see you; and so for us the sun rose and the good weather came, because if we cannot see the sovereign Emperor himself, who is strong and powerful, then we do see you, whom the sovereign Emperor sent to see us and converse with us. So we rejoice and praise God. I have spoken" (Golovin 198}:96).

At the end of this meeting, several of the visiting headmen showed the Russian dignitaries the written certificates they had received from the RAC, which they highly treasured. The two inspectors praised their visitors' peaceful attitudes but warned them that if hostile or violent behavior resumed, they and their people would be penalized by the Company, beginning with those of their relatives who were still living in Novo-Arkhangel'sk as hostages. 82 They then told their guests that they had asked the governor to issue holiday rewards to everyone who possessed such certificates, so that they would strive to maintain their good reputation. At the conclusion of the conference, each man received a cup of tea, two shots of vodka, and porridge with syrup. Mikhail Kooxx'an was also given some money to feast the entire party at his own house. 83 Furugelm's successor, l)imitrii Maksutov, the last governor of Russian America (1863-67), was equally pleased with the RAC'S friendly and cooperative relations with the Tlingit (Pierce 1990:327-34). Nevertheless, a certain degree of suspicion between the two communities remained. Although very interested in maintaining trade with the An60shi and earning money by working for the Company, the Tlingit, even in Sitka, continued to see themselves as totally 150

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independent. While R A C officials and visiting dignitaries told them that they were the tsar's "children" (Golovin 198~:96-97), they themselves insisted that the Russians remained the "intruders" in the Lingit aani and could not claim ownership of any land there (with the possible exception of Novo-Arkhangel'sk) (Prilozhenie k Dokladu 1863:238, 330). Golovin's (1983:85) description of the various precautions surrounding the operation of the Tlingit market in the early 1860s speaks for itself.R4 While Furugelm's and Maksutov's policy of "appeasement" seemed to work well, Kostlivtsev, Golovin, and some other visitors from Russia argued that to justify renewing the RAC'S charter for another twenty years, the Company's settlements had to be strengthened militarily and sterner measures had to be taken to bring the indigenous inhabitants of Alaska further under Russian control. In fact, Kostlivtsev (Prilozhenie k Dokladu 1863:69), clearly unfamiliar with the situation in southeastern Alaska, advocated the use of the death penalty for the most notorious Tlingit "criminals." Responding to such criticism, Furugelm wrote that conquering the Tlingit and other "independent natives" at the present time was impossible and pointed to the United States and England which had not yet been able to subjugate their own western Indians. He also rejected the option of exterminating the "Kolosh" ("as others [i.e., the Americans] are doing"), which he considered "inhuman." The remaining option, in his view, was to maintain the existing fragile peace with the "Kolosh," while using "the measures of high precaution" (ibid.:49). In the 1860s, Tlingit missionization, which continued to be heavily influenced by broader Russian-Tlingit relations, was also marked by some improvement: there was a certain increase in the number of converts and the degree of the Church's influence on the Native people. At the same time, the Church could not boast about any major breakthrough during the last years of the Russian presence in the Lingit aani. Some new converts continued to be made throughout the 18605, the number of Orthodox Tlingit growing slowly and reaching about 560 in the early 1860s, and remaining at about that level until October 1867 when Russian America stopped being Russian. This figure included some residents of other Kwacms as well as former Sitkans who had moved away and were lost track of. On the eve of Alaska's transfer to the U.S., between one third and one half of Sitka's Tlingit population was nominally Orthodox; in addition, there were some baptized "Kolosh" in the other Kwaans. Despite their large number, most of the Orthodox Tlingit did not constitute a separate community or share a separate ideology. With the exception of a small group of Tlingit women and children as well as a handful of men who had been living in Novo-Arkhangel'sk for quite some time, most Tlingit converts had a very vague understanding of 151

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Orthodoxy. Thus in 1862-63 only 8 men and 24 women had confession and communion. A separate church, established specifically to serve them, did not seem to be attracting a lot of interest. On the contrary, most Christian Sitkans, and especially the aristocracy, appeared to resent not being able to worship with the Russians at the cathedral. The memory of 1855, when the "Kolosh Church" was in the center of their battle with the An60shi, must have still remained fresh in their minds. The picture of Tlingit Orthodoxy circa 1860-61 painted by Golovin and Kostlivtsev was a pretty bleak one. Golovin (1983:81) wrote that services were rarely held at Trinity Church because the Tlingit "simply did not attend. Many of them have been baptized thanks to gifts and entertainment, but they do not like to go to church without being rewarded in some way. Those who did occasionally come to church, did so out of curiosity-they would sit on their haunches for a while, smoke their pipe, and leave" (Prilozhenie k Dokladu 1863:366). Most of the Tlingit converts seemed to be unfamiliar with proper conduct during services and regarded coming to church in the same light as their visits to R A C officials, that is, expecting material rewards for "showing respect" to the clergy. Kostlivtsev agreed with his fellow inspector, noting that the Christian Tlingit were willing to attend services and have confession and communion only if they were hoping to receive a gift and be treated with food and wine afterwards. He also saw the Tlingit talk to each other and smoke during services, unless someone stopped them. "For the Kolosh," he wrote, "the first condition [for agreeing to be baptized 1is to find a well-to-do godfather whom they could visit during every holy day to get food and gifts" (Prilozhenie k Dokladu 1863:115-16). Veniaminov's rule of not bribing the neophytes did not seem to be observed by either clergymen or R A C officials eager to attract more converts and improve Russian-Tlingit relations. If Golovin and Kostlivtsev could be accused of having a certain anticlerical and anti-Tlingit bias, Petr Sysakov, who had served as Alaska's vicariate bishop since 1858, would have been expected to give a more positive evaluation of the state of Orthodoxy among the Tlingit. Yet he too offered a rather pessimistic assessment of missionary progress in southeastern Alaska. He told Kostlivtsev that polygamy and shamanism, as well as other "wild" customs, were the main obstacles to the further conversion of "independent Alaskan Natives." He was also concerned that the Russian clergy did not know any Tlingit and argued that it was necessary to train Tlingit priests who could serve their own people, just as had been done among the Aleuts and Creoles. Unlike Archbishop Innokentii, who had proposed that Novo-Arkhangel'sk be the place where purchased Tlingit slaves would be trained to become church workers, Bishop Petr proposed selecting a few of the Tlingit boys living in the Novo-Arkhangel'sk orphanage and 15 2

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sending them to Russia to be educated (ibid.:U7-18). Of course he had no choice, since, with the transfer of the Novo-Arkhangel'sk seminary to Siberia, there was no institution in Alaska that could train the clergy. As a matter of fact, Kostlivtsev, who had spoken with Bishop Petr about this matter, recommended that a seminary be reopened in Novo-Arkhangel'sk so that the Native boys could remain in Alaska after graduating from the local secondary school (uchilishche). Both he and Golovin thought that the recent transfer of the archbishops' see to Siberia was a mistake-in their view, it resulted in the Alaska vicariate being too dependent on and subordinate to distant Kamchatka (ibid: l23). A major negative consequence of this administrative change was the reduction of the number of priests assigned to Novo-Arkhangel'sk. This meant that there was rarely a clergyman available who could devote all of his time to learning the Tlingit language and serving the Native community in Sitka and southeastern Alaska as a whole. Golovin, who accused the clergy of "hiding behind the fort's walls" and not making any effort to learn the Tlingit language, recommended that no gifts be given to entice new converts and that the Church direct its energy to produce Russian-educated young Tlingit men to serve as priests. He thought that if there was no seminary in the colonies, aristocratic "Kolosh" boys should be sent to Russia, which would please their "vain" parents. Tikhmenev (1978:385-86), whose book on the history of the RA C was aimed at defending the Company from accusations thrown at it by the likes of Kostlivtsev and Golovin, responded to the two inspectors' proposals with the following realistic observation: "Considering these people's qualities and their indifference to Christianity, would a few clergymen of Kolosh origin have enough influence on their own people? Would a priest not belonging to a toion's family have any influence on them? Would the aristocracy agree to send its children to the seminary to be trained as priests, when Christianity does not suit their war-like inclinations? Only time and experience will answer these questions." Tikhmenev struck at the very heart of the problem of recruiting Tlingit clergy-the fact that in this type of society the rank and clan identity of the priest could not be ignored by his parishioners, thus making it difficult for him to serve an entire community rather than his own kin. In fact, the Russian Church continued to face this problem even in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries when its labors in southeastern Alaska were much more successful.

Missionary Wark in the 1860s Given the shortage of clergymen in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, it appears that very little missionary work among the Tlingit was done between 1858, when Fr. Litvintsev 153

THE TLINGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH, 1834-67 went back to Siberia, and 1860, when Kostlivtsev and Golovin visited the capital of Russian America. In 1860 a special missionary for the Tlingit, Fr. Ivan Petelin, was finally appointed, but no record of his labors exists except for the last year of his service in Alaska, when he was quite active. It is difficult to say whether, like Veniaminov in the mid-1830S, he was initially afraid to get involved with NovoArkhangel'sk's bellicose neighbors or whether the records of those earlier years of his work simply have not survived. Be it as it may, Bishop Petr's assessment of the state of Tlingit Orthodoxy, written in an official report in 1864, is as bleak as his response to Kostlivtsev's inquiries four years earlier. In his words: The Kolosh living near the port are entirely wild and uncontrollable. They follow the bad examples set by the Russian and Finnish laborers and, consequently are not admitted into the port. They can be attracted to Christianity only by remuneration. If they were given clothing or other presents, they would become Christians immediately, but without remuneration they do not want to be baptized. If they have communion during Lent, they want to be treated with a good dinner after the service. Otherwise, they refuse to prepare themselves for the holy communion by fasting .... They do not give donations to the church

(DRHA,

vol. 1:147-48).

Having dismissed the Sitka Tlingit as bad Christians, the bishop then compared them unfavorably with the inhabitants of the "straits." In his view, the Sitkans had been spoiled by the RAC' s practice of showering them with gifts, while the people of other Tlingit communities were "less greedy." The problem with serving the latter, however, was the fact that the clergy lacked transportation to get to their communities. RAe's ships visited them only occasionally, while travel by Native canoes was dangerous and expensive, since the Tlingit refused to transport the clergy for free (ibid.). Fr. Ivan Petelin's missionary journal (AReA, D 316) is the earliest existing record of the frustration and occasional rewards of the daily interaction between a priest and his Tlingit parishioners. In addition to his log, there are also the missionary journal of Fr. Militov, which covers the period between November 1865 and March 1866 (A HL, Vinokouroff Collection, MS 81, box 32, f. 24), a brief report by Hieromonk Feoktist on his missionary journey to the Tlingit villages in the "straits" (ARCA, D 316), and Fr. Kovrigin's detailed journal describing his labors in Sitka in October and November 1866 (AReA, D 316). These four documents provide unique information on the state of Tlingit Orthodoxy on the eve of the American arrival in Alaska. Like most of the graduates of the Irkutsk Seminary, the young Fr. Ivan (born circa 1830) appears to have been an educated priest who took his missionary task 154

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seriously and worked hard to improve the sorry state of Orthodoxy among the "Kolosh." The first entries in his journal, covering the events of January 1864, contain his complaints about poor attendance at the services he conducted in Trinity Church. Despite the fact that January was the time when most of the Sitkans returned to their winter village, only a few persons (mostly women) came to church. Some people did not even bother to enter the church but sat on its steps. It seems that the "Kolosh Church" had no stove, since several Natives complained to the priest about the cold. The young missionary used the old Orthodox method of trying to reach the Native community by appealing to its high-ranking leaders. Several times throughout the winter months Petelin visited "toen Sergei," who must have been the "second head chief of the Sitka Kolosh" mentioned earlier, and asked him to encourage the others to come to church and have his new wife, the widow of a Chilkat headman, baptized. To both of these appeals, in which Petelin urged the Kaagwaantaan leader to "set an example for the Kolosh," the man replied that "it was too cold in the church." Indeed, it was cold, since when the priest tried to baptize one man in a spring located next to Trinity Church the water turned out to be frozen and the ceremony had to be postponed. A year later the church did acquire a baptismal font, but it was still too cold to immerse the neophytes into its icy water during the winter months. At the same time, the Tlingit could have been using the cold weather as an excuse for poor church attendance and delays in baptism. It is interesting that the hardy Tlingit men, who had been bathing in cold water since boyhood, did not yet see baptism as a ritual of purifying and strengthening the body and spirit, as they began to do in later years. The fact that such a close ally of the Russians as Sergei was not anxious to see his wife baptized and have a church wedding illustrates the weakness of the Church's influence on the Sitka community.85 On other occasions when Petelin asked Tlingit aristocrats why their people were not coming to church, they explained that they were simply too busy fishing and hunting. One sign of change in Russian-Tlingit relations was the fact that Fr. Ivan was able to visit the houses in the Native village freely, not only to preach and administer sacraments but to offer some medical assistance. One of the issues that seemed to be of concern to Petelin was the reluctance of the Orthodox Tlingit to have their relatives buried in the ground. From Fr. Ivan's journal and occasional references in other sources it appears that by the 1850S and 1860s a few Christian burials of Native Sitkans, particularly those living in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, were in fact being performed every year. At the same time, the fear of subjecting the dead to the horrors of lying in the cold and wet earth and separating them from their kin in the land of the dead discouraged most Tlingit from accepting this An60shi custom. In fact, some families who would initially agree to have their relatives 155

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buried, often changed their mind later. In January 1864, for example, Petelin learned that "toen Maksim" (Taasu), a high-ranking local leader, listed third in the 1867 Confessional Record after Mikhail Kooxx' aan and Sergei Katliak Kostlivtsev (ARCA, D 416), was about to cremate two of his relatives. One ofthem was his nephew who had been buried as a Christian a year earlier and the otherthe wife of Gedeonov (the chief interpreter of the R A c), whose burial had taken place seven years ago! When Fr. Ivan, who arrived at the scene when the coffins had already been placed on the pyre, asked those present why they were doing this, the answer he received was "so that they would not suffer." The decision to exhume the body and cremate it in the traditional fashion often came after a relative of the deceased received in a dream a complaint from him or her about being cold. A shaman might also encourage cremation, attributing some serious misfortune in the community to this gross violation of traditional mortuary practices, an ultimate show of "disrespect" to the deceased. A week later Fr. Ivan seems to have been more successful in preventing this "return to paganism," when he tried to discourage another high-ranking Sitkan from digging up and burning his uncle's body. Trying to use simple language accessible to his audience, the missionary asked the man what he would do if someone was bothering him and disturbing his sleep. The man replied that he would first try to chase the man away and, if that failed, would kill him. "Then why are you planning to dig up your uncle and thus disturb his peace?" asked the priest. The man promised not to cremate the body, although the missionary journal is silent about this incident's final outcome. In this case, the motivation to take care of one's deceased maternal uncle's remains in the proper traditional manner may have been more pragmatic-the dead aristocrat's successor may have been in the process of organizing a memorial potlatch to honor his uncle and legitimize his own acquisition of the dead man's name, rank, and office. Even if the new headman was himself in favor of burial, his kin could have been opposed to the new practice. While trying to combat the pre-Christian deathways, Petelin also tried to use the few funeral services that he did perform as occasions for instructing the "Kolosh" in the Christian ways of sending the dead to the other world and honoring their memory. With the onset of Lent, he also tried to explain to his few parishioners how Christians were supposed to prepare themselves for the greatest feast day of the Orthodox year. However, his appeals to the Native congregants to begin "goven'e" (fasting and other pious activities carried out during Lent), so as to make sure that they would have confession and communion at least once a year, were not heeded. The only Tlingit who were willing to "govet'" in a proper Orthodox fashion were two women from Novo-Arkhangel'sk, who had obviously

THE TLINGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH,

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been exposed to Orthodoxy for a longer period of time and to a much greater extent. During the warmer spring months, a few more people began attending Fr. Petelin's Sunday services. Still, he was disappointed when only about twenty Tlingit, most of them women, attended the pre-Easter services, which must have drawn the majority of Novo-Arkhangel'sk's population to the St. Michael's cathedral. The same number of Tlingit attended the only service in the cathedral that Petelin was assigned to conduct during that year. The priest used these occasions as an opportunity to offer instruction to his parishioners-from the most basic explanations of how and when to bow during the service to the discussion of the Ten Commandments. Particularly difficult for him was to explain what sin meant and which subjects were appropriate to be mentioned in prayer. This suggests that those Tlingit who did pray to the Russian God were asking for "mundane" things, something the Church could not accept (see below). It appears that some of his parishioners, especially men, either did not understand the meaning of sin or were unwilling to confess their transgressions. Maybe they were too proud to reveal their weaknesses to an outsider, something that was done in the traditional Tlingit society only in extreme situations, when misfortune could be averted only by confessing one's violation of the moral order in front of the shaman and the community. Aristocrats and older males were the least likely to be suspected of such immoral conduct. Women, who were more likely to be accused of performing forbidden acts (ligaas), seemed to be more willing to have confession and communion. On one occasion, Fr. Ivan heard two women confess the killing of their infants, a very serious crime from the Church's point of view. One of them strangled her baby and the other threw hers in the water. These victims may have been either illegitimate or too weak to be allowed to grow up in Tlingit society. The priest did impose a penance (epitim'ia) on the two women, but it was not as strict as would have been required for a Russian woman. All they had to do was recite a certain number of prayers and make a certain number of bows, as well as perform good deeds, to "wipe away such a grave sin." One ofFr. Petelin's biggest problems was his inability to communicate with the Tlingit in their own language. Whenever the interpreter was absent, the missionary had to limit his activity to conducting the liturgy and offering crosses to the people present. In late November 1864, services at Trinity Church began to be attended by some Tlingit children, most of them boys, whom he began teaching in a recently opened "Kolosh school." This appears to have been an elementary school (modeled upon the Russian parish school), which was financed by the governor. At least one ofPetelin's students was a Russian or a Creole boy sent to the new school by Governor Maksutov in order to help the teacher "translate and 157

THE TLlNGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH,

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explain." The boy must have already known some Tlingit and was supposed to improve his language skills by studying with the Tlingit children. During the services, Petelin appealed to his flock to send their children to the new school; he also used such an inducement as feeding the students bread with molasses and telling them that only the good ones among them would get such a treat. By the middle of December, his students, whose attendance ranged from two to twenty, were familiar with the Russian alphabet and were beginning to read simple words. In addition to teaching Russian literacy, the new school undoubtedly introduced the Tlingit youngsters to the basics of Orthodoxy. This instruction must have begun to bear fruit, since in late 1864 and early 1865 more children took part in the services at Trinity Church. Unfortunately, their education must have been interrupted when Fr. Ivan departed from Novo-Arkhangel'sk some time in the first part of 1865. In addition to trying hard to revive and strengthen the Sitka Tlingit commitment to Orthodoxy, Petelin tried to spread it to the surrounding communities. Occasionally previously baptized Tlingit came to Sitka to take part in services, as was the case with a Xootsnoowu toen Andrei and his family who came to Trinity Church, received some previously consecrated communion bread from Petelin, and were invited to his apartment afterward. In the middle of November 1864 Fr. Ivan and his assistant traveled to a village in the vicinity of Peril Straits on board an RAC steamship. When they arrived there, several baptized Natives came to be blessed and showed the clergymen their certificates received from the RA C as a sign of their goodwill toward the An60shi as well as their special status. However, when Fr. Ivan offered to baptize some of their kin, the latter replied that it was too cold. A few days later the steamship arrived in the village of "Keku" (Kei~'?) but could not land there because of bad weather. Instead of coming ashore, Fr. Ivan set up a tent on the deck and baptized five male offspring of the local leaders (ages fifteen to twenty-five) and an old man, age sixty. A large group of Tlingit present during the ceremony told him that in the spring, when the ship would return, the women would get baptized as well. Later that day two high-ranking men, one of them a Christian and another a pagan, arrived to have their infant children baptized. When Petelin asked why they did not bring their wives and the rest of their families to be baptized as well, the two again blamed the cold weather and promised to have it done some time later. Fr. Ivan, however, sensed that there was some other reason behind their answer-I suspect that the baptismal ceremony performed in a tent on board a ship was not elaborate enough for the two aristocrats who must have preferred to have their kin baptized in Novo-Arkhangel'sk. The next community approached by the steamship was the village of Neltushkin on what later became known as Admiralty Island. Because the local people did not wish to

THE TLINGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH,

1834-67

engage in trade, none of the Russians came ashore here. However, the next day a group of Neltushkin residents arrived and were received in the captain's cabin, where Petelin baptized four headmen. Because of his short stay and the cold weather, he could not baptize their families. Their next stop was at the nearby village of Angoon where a high-ranking headman of the dominant local clan, the Deisheetaan, named Yeilnaawu, told them that he was planning to come to N ovoArkhangel'sk in the near future to trade and be baptized. What this missionary trip demonstrated was a considerable interest in baptism among the Tlingit living outside Sitka, and particularly the aristocracy. It also showed that they perceived trade with the Russians and taking part in their religious ceremonies as related activities. Finally it illustrated the Tlingit leaders' determination to "show respect" to the Russians by accepting baptism when and where it was convenient to themselves rather than the clergy. The same conclusions were arrived at by Fr. Feoktist Obraztsov, who in December 1865 reported to Bishop Petr on his own missionary trip undertaken during the previous month on board the RAC'S steamship Konstantin. From the very beginning of this trading/missionary expedition, Hieromonk Feoktist depended entirely in his interaction with the Tlingit on the availability of the Company interpreter. Thus, during a day-long stay near a XootsnoowU Kwaan village, the priest accomplished nothing, because the interpreter was too busy helping conduct trade with the local inhabitants. In two other villages, Taku and E:eiJ!:', the Tlingit were "rioting" (?), which prevented Feoktist from talking to them. Finally, in a Hoonah Kwaan village located in Icy Straits, the priest was able to preach to the Tlingit. Along with his interpreter, he went to one of the winter houses and asked that the other inhabitants of the community join them there. What followed was a "crash course" in the basics of Christianity-in a single sermon Fr. Feoktist spoke to his audience about the creation of the world and the fall of Adam as well as the reasons for the Son of God's coming down to earth; he also explained the mystery of baptism as the necessary means of salvation and discussed other sacraments. The next day he visited other houses explaining how a baptized person should behave toward God and fellow human being. To the missionary's obvious delight, at the end of his sermon thirty people expressed their desire to be baptized. However, when he came back ashore the next day, only two men and four women from that group came to receive the sacrament. 86 The missionary was pleased that none of them mentioned gifts or wealthy godparents, "as the Kolosh usually did." I suspect that immediately after Fr. Feoktist's eloquent speech, his hosts were inspired to "show him respect" by agreeing to take part in the ritual he was to conduct. The next day, however, most of them were much less enthusias159

THE TLINGIT AND RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH,

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tic about the whole thing. Nevertheless, the six that did come forward seemed to be genuinely pleased with what they went through, since, as Feoktist wrote, "their faces expressed pleasure and they even tried to express it with words." Some of the inhabitants of the next village visited by the Konstantin, which the missionary calls "Sredniaia Gavan' " (Middle Harbor), appeared to have a very different reason for agreeing to be baptized-they asked for gifts and wanted to obtain higher prices for their furs. Obraztsov concluded his report with some practical suggestions on how to help the missionaries be more successful during their visits to the villages outside of Sitka. The most important ingredient of this success, in his view, was to have a clergyman with a substantial knowledge of the Tlingit language or at least with access to a good interpreter who would be independent of the Company. Another suggestion was to have the missionary visit Tlingit communities not by traveling on a Company steamship but independently, so as to have more time to preach and probably avoid being identified with the R A C and with trade too closely. He seems to have understood the nature of Tlingit society, so deeply divided along clan lines, when he pointed out that the "Kolosh" preferred to be visited in their own homes rather than congregate in a single house. This meant that the missionary needed to spend a great deal of time in every village. He also added the following observation: "the Kolosh are a proud and vain people who are only concerned with their own self-interest and material gain; hence, in order to arouse sincere feelings of repentance in them, one has to spend a long time talking to them; only then would a sermon bring positive results." The next chronicler of Tlingit Christianization, Igumen 87 Nikolai Militov, was a very different kind of priest, a man in his sixties who seemed to be more reluctant to serve as a Tlingit missionary and more skeptical of his Native parishioners' sincerity than either his predecessor, Fr. Petelin, or his successor, Fr. Kovrigin. Being less educated than these other two "Kolosh" missionaries, Militov had spent two previous decades serving the Tanaina (Russian Kenaitsy) Athabascans of the Kenai Peninsula, many of whom had become quite devoted to Orthodoxy by the middle of the nineteenth century and were considered to be "semidependent" indigenous inhabitants of Russian America (see Townsend 1974). The reason Bishop Petr transferred the ailing monk from his quiet post on Kenai to Novo-Arkhangel'sk (which Militov disliked for its hustle and bustle as well as its high cost ofliving) in 1865 was to serve in Trinity Church and "to teach and, if possible, convert the Kolosh." Without an interpreter these tasks were very difficult to accomplish. Already during his first service at Trinity Church, Militov must have offended the Tlingit when he told them to wash their faces before coming to church and stand respectfully (blagogoveino) during the ser160

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vice. 88 A week later Militov was once again confronted with conduct that upset him a great deal. Twenty people came to participate in the service but did not stand still and had to be told to stop laughing and behave themselves. It is possible that the Tlingit were laughing at Fr. Nikolai's unsuccessful attempts to read prayers written in the Tlingit language, as they did when Fr. Kovrigin made similar attempts a year later (see page 166). During the following month some Tlingit continued to attend Militov's services, but they would often only stay for a little while and then leave. To his appeals to the nonbaptized to join the Church, some replied that they would do it some time later while others laughed and "said something in their own language." When at the conclusion of one service Fr. Nikolai asked one of the nonbaptized men whether he wished to join the Church, the latter gave him a very straightforward answer: "And how are you going to pay me? If you give me a coat, pants, and boots, then I will [get baptized]." When Militov replied that people got baptized not to be paid but to earn eternal life, the man laughed in his face and retorted that "when Sergei was baptized, he received a lot of gifts; if you are going to be my godfather, you have to give me a lot of presents too." The priest's response that he was going to give him only a small cross caused the man to laugh in his face once again. This pragmatic fellow, whose words must have shocked Fr. Nikolai, must have been a man of high rank who wished to be treated in the same "respectful" manner as the Kaagwaantaan aristocrat Sergei Katliak had been when he was baptized in 1861. Thus the Tlingit demonstrated once again how conscious they still were of any differences in treatment that they received from the Russians when they joined the Church. If the behavior of those Tlingit who came to church frustrated Fr. Nikolai, so did their excuses for not coming to church at all. One Sunday in late November he conducted the Divine Liturgy in Trinity Church, but no Tlingit came-the men and boys were busy bathing in the sea. Thus a traditional exercise aimed at increasing one's physical and spiritual strength remained more attractive to them than what the Church had to offer. Militov's attempt to appeal to Mikhail Koopc'an to bring more of his people into Orthodoxy produced the following reply from "the head chief of the Sitka Kolosh": "The Kolosh are bad people; they want to get baptized only if they would have an honorable/high-ranking [pochetnyi] godfather who would provide them with everything." On Nativity Day Fr. Militov could not serve in Trinity Church but, due to the shortage of clergy in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, had to assist the bishop at St. Michael Cathedral. However, the following day he was able to conduct a service for the Tlingit in their own church and administer communion to two newly baptized persons. After the liturgy he spoke to them as well as to a larger group of their nonbaptized brethren 161

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present. Pointing out the two new converts, he said to the "heathen Kolosh": "See how pleasant it is to look at the newly baptized people and the ones having communion. Even though they come from your midst, they no longer resemble you, because the grace of God would be reflected on the person's face once it had entered his soul [through baptism]. I wish from the bottom of my heart that you would accept baptism too." His audience replied "all right, we'll do it soon," but he sensed a lack of enthusiasm in their voices. It is quite possible that his speech offended them, since it praised the Christian Tlingit and presented them as morally superior to others. While the two converts did not receive gifts, they were able to visit the priest's home in Novo-Arkhangel'sk on the day they were baptized, a practice that became quite common. During these visits the Native guests were offered a meal by their host. The next day Militov feasted three Christian taens, who must have taken part in a feast day service conducted in the chapel at the bishop's residence. The missionary decided to use this opportunity to make a pitch for more converts in Sitka. This time he tried to use a "political" rather than a "moral" argument, making the following statement: "It is high time [for all of] the Kolosh to get baptized and become the Russians' friends. You can see for yourself, how nice it is to be friends. For example, here we have a holy day and you, the baptized ones, are participating in our celebration. But if all of the Kolosh were baptized and peaceful, we would not have to lock the gate [of Novo-Arkhangel'sk]." One of the Tlingit, a headman named Ivan Amanat (or Amanatov, "hostage" in Russian), told the priest that the Tlingit were saying that the Russians were not treating them the way the Americans who came to visit "the straits" did. The latter offered them vodka and gave them many gifts, but the Russians were "stingy." The priest had nothing to say and made the following comment in his journal: "How can one reason with them .... " This displeasure with the lack of Russian "generosity" was expressed by the Tlingit on another occasion, when Militov berated some baptized Natives for not attending services in preparation for the Pascha confession and communion. They replied that they were too busy, having to work, because "the Russians would not just give them money, bread, and vodka for free." In January of 1866 Fr. Nikolai resumed visiting the Sitka village to encourage people to join the Church. What he heard from the leaders and aristocrats was the following: "distinguished people should have distinguished godparents." This prompted Militov to make the following comment in his journal: "how am I supposed to find them distinguished godparents, and also who [among the Russians] would want to entertain the visiting Kolosh?" The last statement might be indicating that the RAC'S top brass were getting tired of entertaining their

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Tlingit godchildren, even though this had always been considered a politically useful thing to do. While the nonbaptized aristocrats refused to budge unless they could have high-ranking An60shi godfathers, the Christian aanycitx'i were very reluctant to attend services at the "Kolosh Church." When in late January Militov asked the few Natives who did come to church where the rest of the Christian Tlingit were, he was told that some were busy hunting and fishing while the high-ranking ones "only go to the cathedral to pray with the Russians." The next time too few "Kolosh" came to the liturgy, Militov drew his own conclusion: "High-ranking Kolosh never come to this church; they probably think it is below their dignity to pray with the slaves, subordinate to them." Throughout the winter months of 1866, Militov continued to be visited by Christian Tlingit who seemed to use "church business" as an excuse for making more practical requests. Thus, one time, Ivan Amanatov came to see the priest, allegedly to ask when the priest was going to have a service for those Tlingit who were observing the Lenten fast. Eventually Militov understood that the real reason for Amanatov's coming was to ask the priest for some money. On another occasion two men came to see the priest to tell him about some of their relatives who wanted to be baptized. Having brought the good news, they would not leave and finally asked for some vodka. Deeply disappointed with his Tlingit parish, Fr. Militov returned to Kenai in March of 1866 and died there a year later. The last entry in his Novo-Arkhangel'sk journal reads, "I have had an opportunity to spend time with the savages, but I have never seen such crude and deceitful ones." His successor, Fr. Nikolai Kovrigin, was the last priest to labor among the Tlingit prior to the sale of Alaska. Born around 1840, he graduated from the Irkutsk seminary in 1862 and arrived in Novo-Arkhangel'sk in 1866, having previously served in a Siberia parish for a few years. Like Militov, he was shocked by the "dismal" state of Tlingit Orthodoxy but, being better educated and more sensitive to local conditions, he plunged energetically into missionary work, trying hard to improve the situation. The first entry in Kovrigin's journal reflects his very negative initial impression of the "Kolosh" church. He described a building that was sagging into the ground, with a leaking roof and wet walls. There was water even in the holiest of the holy, the altar area. It was cold inside and one could feel the chill wind through cracks in the walls. 89 Having inspected this less than impressive church, Fr. Nikolai began his first liturgy. Ai first the church was empty, except for him and his deacon, Semeon Sokolov. Later on he noticed three Tlingit, but as he put it, "even they were just women"! After the service the priest wished to speak to them, but he did not

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know any Tlingit and they did not know any Russian. Somehow with the help of Sokolov, who could say a few phrases in Tlingit, Kovrigin managed to find out that one of the women had been baptized in the mid-1840s but since then had had communion only twice: the first time when she was baptized, and the second just a year ago, upon the encouragement of Fr. Petelin. The only prayer she knew was the Tlingit version of "Gospodi Pomilui" ("Lord Have Mercy"). Fr. Nikolai asked the two women to encourage the other Christian Tlingit as well as the nonbaptized to come to his services. His next disappointing encounter with the baptized Tlingit was at the house of Mikhail Koopc' an. Since this aristocrat had been a close Russian ally and a member of the Church for a long time, Kovrigin must have expected to see an exemplary Christian household. What he found was a bit different. Most of the eleven residents of the house, including KooEx'an's young new wife (the widow of the RAC'S interpreter Gavriil), who could speak good Russian and was able to help the missionary communicate with the "head chief of the Sitka Kolosh," had indeed been already baptized. The exception was the wife of one of his nephews, who had come from Hoonah three years earlier. However, none of the couples living in this house had had their marriages sanctified in church. Koopc'an tried to explain his own lack of religious diligence by saying that when he married his present wife Church authorities refused to allow them to have a church wedding. Kovrigin mentions that subsequently he was able to find out that the Church's decision was based on the fact that the woman's deceased husband was Koopc'an's relative, but only a distant one-"in the fourth generation and only through the women's line," as he put it. The priest, who clearly had a very different view of matrilineal descent than the Tlingit themselves, suggested that, since the deceased was only a distant relative of KooEx'an and since Koopc'an's new wife had not been married to him in church, there was no reason to prohibit the couple from sanctifying their union. He also pointed out that by having the "head toen" of the village marry in church, a good example would be set for the baptized as well as the nonbaptized Natives. Kovrigin's disappointment with what he expected to be the most Russified household in the village was further compounded by the fact that none of the children living in it, including the headman's twenty-year-old son, had been baptized. His description of the first Tlingit household that he could observe first-hand concludes with the following pessimistic note: "If there are so many violations of church rules in the family of one man, what could we say about the entire village." Bishop Petr's marginal notes indicate that Kovrigin's "instant ethnography" of Mikhail Koopc'an's household was not particularly accurate. The bishop pointed out that the chief had no children and that the twenty-year-old man and the

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other nonbaptized younger residents of his house were his relatives who had only recently begun occupying it. Vladyko Petr also rejected Kovrigin's assertion that .,Koo.lQ('an's wife was only distantly related to him by blood; in his interpretation, the woman was his sister's daughter and thus could not possibly be allowed by the Church to marry him. The problem with the bishop's version is that in the 1860s no respectable Tlingit, and especially a house head, would marry his sister's daughter, a member of his own clan and lineage. Had .,Koo.lQ('an's wife been his brother's daughter, theirs would have been a perfect aristocratic marriage. Fr. Nikolai's and Bishop Peter's conflicting information suggests several things. First of all, instead of a model Christian household, Kovrigin obviously came across a more complex picture, with some members being Christian and others not, and with the church wedding not being an important ritual yet for most of its members. Secondly, this incident illustrates how poorly the clergy understood the Tlingit social structure and how difficult it was for it to keep track of the ever-changing residential arrangements in the Native community. The complexity of the Tlingit family and household structure and its total dissimilarity to the standard Russian one, combined with the lack of good interpreters, made the inner workings of the "Kolosh" society a virtual terra incognita for the missionaries whose job it was to bring new Native members into the Church and administer life-crisis sacraments to those already in it. If the situation in .,Koo.lQ('an's household was disappointing to Fr. Kovrigin, his review of the existing Church records, which clearly had not been updated for quite some time, made him even more frustrated. Being a priest who clearly liked having order in his parish and was unprepared for the situation among Alaska's "independent Natives," Fr. Nikolai lamented the fact that many of the baptized "Kolosh" listed in the records were no longer living in Sitka-some had died, others had moved to the outlying villages in "the straits," and some had been sold to residents of other communities. Kovrigin's difficulty in establishing who in Sitka had or had not been baptized was aggravated by the fact that some Christian Tlingit claimed to be nonbaptized in order to get a cross or a new shirt from their godfather.9° Subsequent services officiated by Fr. Nikolai were attended by a somewhat larger number of Tlingit, although the attendance never rose above twenty. Their conduct showed only very limited familiarity with the Orthodox style of worship. Those Sitkans who came to church knew how to cross themselves and after the service asked the priest for body crosses, but they also laughed, talked, and even argued with each other during the liturgy. To prevent this accumulation of crosses, Kovrigin gave them out only to those persons who seemed honest about having lost theirs. He also admonished them through a Tlingit man who knew

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some Russian to behave themselves modestly (skronlllo) during the service, saying that since they behaved that way in front of their own leaders and elders, they should be especially quiet in church, facing God. Like his immediate predecessors, Kovrigin decided to increase church attendance by appealing to a local leader who was closely aligned with the Russians. Having already tried appealing to Koo~'an without much success, he decided to turn to the "second Sitka chief," Sergei Katliak. Incorrectly interpreting the man's office as a sign of his strong identification with the Russians, Fr. Nikolai asked Katliak why he, "who had been baptized a long time ag0 91 and had become almost like a Russian [pochti sovsem obruscvshiij, did not come to the Kolosh church." The Kaagwaantaan aristocrat answered "proudly" that the Kolosh church was not for him but for slaves and that on feast days he wore his uniform and attended services at the cathedral with "the other officials," which must have meant Tlingit aristocrats and RAC'S top brass. Trying (in vain, I believe) to introduce egalitarian ideas to this rank-conscious headman, Kovrigin told him that God looked at our soul and not our uniform and cited the parable about the rich man and the pharisee. He then compared God's love for the members of His church to the father's love for his children and appealed to Katliak's own paternal feelings toward his sons. Finally, adding a little flattery, he told Sergei that, as a more "sophisticated" man, he should set a good example for the others by coming to the Kolosh church. This conversation did bear some fruit (though probably only for a while)-ten days later the Kaagwaantaan leader attended the service conducted in the Trinity Church. Being a missionary of the Veniaminov tradition, Fr. Kovrigin decided to attract more Sitkans to the church by using more Tlingit language in the liturgy. However, when during one of the services he read a translation of the Ten Commandments given to him by the bishop, he noticed that the Tlingit were smiling. As he found out later, it was his poor pronunciation that had amused them. While excusing himself by pointing out that the "Kolosh language has many gutteral, hissing, and clicking letters, so that even among the Kolosh themselves, there are only a few people who could speak it clearly and correctly" (?!), Kovrigin decided to practice his pronunciation of Tlingit words in advance by reading them to some Tlingit before addressing an entire congregation. This new method must have worked, because at his next service the "Kolosh" were much more quiet, the children among them even joining in the reciting and singing of some prayers in their own language. These youngsters may have been the ones who had attended Fr. Petelin's school a few years earlier. This time no one laughed when the priest read the Ten Commandments and Deacon Sokolov recited the Lord's Prayer. 166

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Another problem that the missionary faced was finding the right words to express himself in Tlingit, especially when discussing abstract ideas. His Tlingit interpreter was apparently not a very skillful one, since the Natives also seemed to have difficulty trying to communicate with the priest through this man. Hence their dIalogues took forever. Despite his lack of understanding of the "Kolosh language," Kovrigin came to appreciate the Tlingit love of public speaking and their use of metaphor, as well as their curiosity about and interest in hearing masterful oratory. Having examined Tlingit translations available in Novo-Arkhangel'sk, most of them the work of Nadezhdin, Fr. Nikolai concluded that this was not enough and decided to ask the Novo-Arkhangel'sk port interpreter, Zhukov, if he had done more translations and could give him lessons in Tlingit. Zhukov said that he had no additional translations in his possession and that he would not mind teaching Kovrigin some Tlingit for a nominal fee. When the priest asked him to take part in his visits to Tlingit homes, the interpreter replied that he was too busy working in the port but, if offered a salary, he would be willing to help the priest not only to speak to the Natives but to work on translating Orthodox prayers. From Zhukov's other comments, it appears that he was trying to get a higher price for his services, portraying the study of Tlingit language as a very difficult task. On the margins of Kovrigin's journal the bishop wrote, "where would we get the money for that?" His Grace also objected to Kovrigin's proposal to hire Zhukov to continue Nadezhdin's translation work. Despite Zhukov's bad reputation among the local clergy, Kovrigin, desperate to have a Tlingit-speaking assistant, hired him to help compile a census of Sitka's Native population. The two began the project with Kooxx'an's house, which must have been the closest one to the palisade. Even with a good interpreter, the task turned out to be a difficult one-some members of the household were out hunting, while others were visiting other villages. After two hours of intensive labor, Kovrigin had gathered information on two households only. His journal reflects his frustration-he felt strongly that a priest had to have a census of his parish to administer the sacraments properly and brings new people into the Church. Despite all of these problems, which must have plagued the work of all of the pre-1867 Orthodox missionaries in southeastern Alaska, it appears that Fr. Nikolai was beginning to make some modest progress. Church attendance stabilized, even though it remained rather low. Some infants and a few adults were being baptized, including two elderly headmen-"toen Nikolai" K'akuk and "a Sitka toen of the Raven clan [moiety], Iushkenat," and his three grown children (Sitka Parish Archive, OCA).92 According to the Confessional Records of the Trinity Church (ARCA, D 416), in addition to Sitkans, a few visitors from Kake, Chilkat,

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Yakutat, and Xootsnoowu were also baptized in 1866 and especially 1867. Most important, Kovrigin was clearly making an effort to use the Tlingit language in the liturgy and to offer religious instruction with the help of his interpreters. Thus one of the last entries in his journal mentions his attempt to explain to his Native parishioners the meaning of the icons displayed in Trinity Church. "Kolosh Vasilii's" translation must have been adequate in this case, because the Tlingit seemed to understand the priest's words. Fr. Kovrigin remained in Novo-Arkhangel'sk until the time of Alaska's transfer to the United States. However, his journal ends one year prior to that dramatic event. It concludes with some important recommendations that this conscientious missionary wanted to suggest to the Consistory. His number one suggestion was to hire a good interpreter, even a man like Zhukov, and increase Deacon Sokolov's salary to encourage him to learn prayers in Tlingit and recite them during services. The second one was to have services in the "Kolosh church" more often than every other week and especially on feast days. Finally Fr. Nikolai recommended that they use the funds that had been previously allocated for feasting the Christian "Kolosh" to buy clothing for the newly baptized ones. This, he argued, would solve the difficult problem of finding a well-to-do godfather, which was impeding further Native conversion. Bishop Petr, who seemed to be determined to do everything "by the book," rejected the last proposal by commenting on the margins that "this was against the instruction." These proposals themselves, as well as the data from the last church document on the baptized Tlingit, the Confessional Record of the "Kolosh Trinity Church" for the year 1867 (ARCA, D 416), indicate that the problems the Orthodox mission among the Tlingit had to face from its very inception remained pretty much the same. Thus on the eve of Russian withdrawal from Alaska, only 60 out of about 500 baptized Tlingit are listed as having had confession and communion. Very few Christian burials and almost no church weddings were performed during that year. Despite the presence of five "chiefs" in these records, most of the Orthodox Tlingit were still younger men and women and their children. At the same time, some of the baptized "Kolosh" began to serve as godparents to their own baptized brethren, although the majority of godparents were still Russian and Creole residents of Novo-Arkhangel'sk. The most promising sign of change was a gradual expansion of Orthodoxy from Sitka to the outlying Native communities. The experience ofFr. Petelin and other missionaries of the 1860s convinced Church authorities that in order to spread Christianity beyond Sitka they had to continue to rely on the local aristocracy and separate their own missionary activities from those of the R A c. This conclusion was summarized in the following instruction sent by Archbishop 168

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Innokentii Veniaminov to the N ovo-Arkhangel' sk Ecclesiastical Consistory in February ofI867 (ARCA, D 330): Based on the reports of His Grace Bishop Petr for the last few years, it has become clear that the Kolosh in the straits, when visited by the missionaries travelling on board the Company's steamship, have expressed their desire to be baptized. However, this baptismal process has come to a halt because in the fall it is inconvenient to baptize people in the open air, while in the summer the ship does not visit the straits. In order [for the missionary 1 to be able to travel into the straits in the summer, it is necessary to have some influential toen take the missionary under his protection and accompany him everywhere, but that requires a lot of money.

In order to facilitate this new missionary method, Innokentii was ready to allocate a significant sum from his special funds. The archbishop's last instruction concerning Tlingit missionization, sent through the Novo-Arkhangel'sk bishop (the newly appointed Pavel Popov) to the Alaska Consistory, deals once again with the issue of training Tlingitspeaking clergy (A RCA, D 339). In this document Innokentii proposes a new strategy for dealing with this problem. Instead of training Tlingit clergymen and church interpreters, a task that the Church had failed in, he proposed sending "two or more boys of the clerical estate to live among the Kolosh in distant villages for a couple of years." It appears that he no longer considered NovoArkhangel'sk to be a good place for such an immersion of Russian and Creole youngsters into the Tlingit language-there were too many Russian speakers in the town as well as in the neighboring Sitka village. 93 He added that "if Fr. Kovrigin would take it upon himself to study the Kolosh language, he would do the Church a great favor and would make himself well known. If he agrees, then you should hire or buy a Kolosh boy for him from the general fund of the American churches. Boys should be purchased in distant villages. Please, pay attention to this matter, otherwise the conversion of the Kolosh is not going to progress." Veniaminov also encouraged the Novo-Arkhangel'sk clergy to turn its attention to basic catechism instructing of the Tlingit. The last sentence of this message, which ends with a question mark ("Could not the work that I initiated be revived?"), suggests his concern about the state of Tlingit missionization ..

Conclusion On October 18, 1867, the Russian flag was lowered and the Stars and Stripes raised on top of Noow Tlein/Castle Hill. The seventy-year era of Russian colonial

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presence in the Lingit aani finally came to a close. The only Russian institution that remained in Novo-Arkhangel'sk and the rest of the former Russian America was the Orthodox Church. What can we conclude about the main effects that the interaction with the Russians had on the Tlingit way of life (Lingit kusteeyi) prior to 1867? The most important fact in this relationship was the political independence that the Tlingit managed to maintain throughout this period. While residing in what the Russians considered to be part of their empire and being seen by them as its subjects, the Tlingit periodically reminded the RAC that they would not accept its domination. This independence was, in fact, acknowledged by the statutes of the RAC. Even in Sitka, where they had to live "under the guns" of Novo-Arkhangel'sk, the Tlingit always had an option of abandoning their settlement and leaving the An60shi without their badly needed food and supplies. Tlingit ability to maintain this independence was based on a combination of factors-their own military strength, diplomatic and trading skills which enabled them to procure arms from the British and the Americans and play one European power against another, and the local terrain which made Russian penetration of the Lingit aani quite difficult. In fact, as Grinev (1991:245-46) points out, the Tlingit military resistance prevented the Russians from extending their presence over the more southerly regions of the Northwest Coast,94 while Tlingit political independence and especially their continued trade with the British and the Yankees, in direct violation of the R A C' s trade monopoly, must have played an important role in the Russian government's decision to sell Alaska. Of course, the fact that the Russians themselves needed the Tlingit as trading partners and that trade was the main form of Tlingit-Russian interaction also contributed to the persistence of the pattern of very limited Russian intrusion into Tlingit economic and social life. In most instances the Tlingit were free to choose whether to accept certain Russian artifacts, practices, and ideas or not. When they worked for the R A c, it was strictly as hired volunteer laborers, rather than indentured servants. Despite this independence, the Tlingit-especially the Sitka and Stikine lswaans-were gradually drawn into the Russian trading system and by 1867 came to depend quite heavily on Russian (as well as other European) foodstuffs and various tools and artifacts. Because of this dependence they were willing to "tolerate the Russians" (as they themselves put it) even in Sitka, where some of the clans (particularly the Kiks.adi) never fully accepted the occupation of their ancestral lands. Thus Tlingit -Russian relations could be characterized as a somewhat uneasy symbiosis, a relationship in which both sides needed but did not fully trust each other and maintained a significant spatial, social, and intellectual distance from each other. 170

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In terms of their exposure to the An60shi kusteeyi, the Tlingit population could be divided into three major categories. The smallest one was composed of those people who had lived in Novo-Arkhangel'sk and other Russian settlements for long periods of time and had become Russified in their lifestyle and, to some extent, their ideational culture. Women married to or living with the R A C employees and the Creole children of these unions were the most prominent members of this group. Former Tlingit slaves who had been purchased by the Company and worked for it for long periods of time maintaining limited or no ties with the Tlingit society should also be included in this group. Many of the individuals in this category became bicultural and served as key liaisons between their ancestral and adopted communities. They also represented the segment of the Nativ~ society most influenced by Orthodoxy. A much larger group consisted of the residents of Sitka and, to a lesser extent, Stikine who maintained closer relations with the Russians than did the rest of the Tlingit who occasionally visited the Russians forts or were visited by the R A C ships. The Sitka Tlingit were the ones most exposed to the Russian culture-they were often the first to acquire Russian artifacts, try new Russian foods, submit to Russian medicine, or work for the RA c. From them many of these new objects and ideas spread to the rest of the Tlingit, especially in the north, who constituted the third categorythe people least affected by the An60shi kusteeyi. The southern Tlingit, of course, were also frequently visited by the British and the Americans and were thus more exposed to a different version of Gus'k'ikwaan culture. 95 This increased Tlingit dependence on European weapons and tools, as well as the devastation caused by the European-introduced epidemics, should not be underestimated. These factors undoubtedly contributed to some changes in the Tlingit social and economic structure. For example, some successful hunters who became fur-traders were undoubtedly able to use their wealth to rise in the social hierarchy and occupy certain positions within it that had been freed by the loss of lives during the epidemics. Similarly some Tlingit women of low rank had the option of either joining the Russians or earning wealth by working for or having sexual relations with them. Like the men, they could use this wealth not only to buy new goods but also to invest in the traditional ceremonial system which remained the main mechanism for ascending in the Native social hierarchy. Many of the Russian goods sought by the Tlingit did not have practical use but were channeled into this system in order to enhance the status and prestige of the aristocrats, the Russians' main trading partners and visitors. Despite these changes, the existing evidence, limited as it is, allows us to speak only of cultural reproduction (with some modifications), rather than significant cultural transformation (cf. Sahlins 1981). The fundamental principles of the pre171

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European sociocultural order-moiety reciprocity, matrilineal solidarity, and rank-remained intact and continued to structure most forms of social interaction. As I have argued in a study of the nineteenth-century Tlingit potlatch, the fact that the ancestral heritage (shagoon) constituted the most valuable "symbolic capital" in pre-18oo Tlingit society made this culture particularly conservative and past-oriented in its fundamental values and orientations (Kan 1989a:29; cf. Grinev 1991:248). Despite some increased social mobility which developed during the Russian era, the aristocracy was clearly able to maintain its dominant role in the society, while the ideological underpinnings of the aristocracy's special status and role remained to be widely accepted by the rest of the population. In fact, the new wealth earned in the context of trading with the Russians contributed to the increased scale of the memorial potlatch and other indigenous ceremonies, while the special "respect" shown to the aristocracy by the Russians must have bolstered its status (cf. Wike 1951). The RAC'S attempts to create a new institution of the "head chief of the Kolosh," an official who would be subordinate to the Russians and promote Russian interests among his own people, had a very limited success. Very cautious Russian actions aimed at curbing the most violent aspects of Tlingit lifeslave sacrifice, killing of unrepented witches, feuding-also had only a limited effect and did not extend beyond Sitka. Even the willingness of some aristocrats to sell their slaves or set them free, rather than killing them, did not represent a radical ideological shift-slaves were "killed" symbolically and discarded like worn out property. An option always remained to perform slave sacrifice or carry out a blood feud away from Novo-Arkhangel'sk. Just as the Tlingit were selective in their appropriation of Russian material goods, so were they in accepting elements of Russian social and spiritual culture. Thus Russian medicine was eventually accepted as useful and beneficial for dealing with certain problems, but it did not fully displace shamanic practices and other indigenous forms of healing. Similarly, only those aspects of Russian Orthodoxy that made sense in terms of the traditional world view, for example, body crosses, were accepted by many, though certainly not all of the Sitkans. It seems that the Tlingit treated Russian culture, and specifically Orthodoxy, as they did the cultures of the neighboring coastal societies-they were interested in being exposed to the ways of the newcomers and willing to borrow practices that seemed useful and attractive, without seriously modifying their own way of thinking about the world and acting within it. Thus some Tlingit undoubtedly began to add prayers to the Anooshi God to the words they addressed to their own spirits in times of need or danger, while some shamans probably began to use crosses and other Orthodox paraphernalia in their own seances (Kan 1991a).

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At the same time, exposure to An60shi ways, including their religion as presented to them in church liturgy and missionary sermons, must also have contributed to a certain objectification of their own culture in the minds of many Tlingit. While prolonged contact with the Russians made them familiar with Russian ways, it did not convince them of their superiority. Thus although they undoubtedly admired the splendor of Russian military parades and church services, the Tlingit could not be impressed with the poverty of much of NovoArkhangel'sk's population and especially the lack of freedom among its Native Alaskan inhabitants. Similarly, while the hierarchical nature of Russian society clearly made sense to the rank-conscious Tlingit, they could not identify with its rigid subordination of those on the bottom to the ones on the top. As one Sitka leader told Governor Chistiakov, in a typical style of Tlingit oratory in which the speaker tries to lower himself in relation to his audience, "Although compared to you we are very poor and weak, you, with all your might and knowledge, are still servants of your emperor" (Grinev 1991:238). On the whole, however, as I have demonstrated in this chapter, there were many aspects of Russian life that did make sense to the Tlingit, especially compared to those of the "Boston men" who settled in Novo-Arkhangel'sk and the rest of the Lingit aani in the late 1860s. Most important, the Russians seemed to be willing in most cases to "show respect" to their "Kolosh" neighbors, from organizing feasts for them to presenting their leaders with crestlike objects and special gifts. This conclusion is true of secular as well as religious Russian culture. By 1867 many Tlingit had become acquainted with the rites and sacraments of the Orthodox Church and might have learned a few of its prayers. Some of them had accepted baptism, although the main reasons for that were traditional and pragmatic rather than new and spiritual. Yet the majority resisted the kind of involvement with the Church that the missionaries of the 1850S and especially the 1860s were trying to advocate. Thus key indigenous life cycle rituals (birth, death) remained intact, and only in some families were they combined with Christian practices. Other major sacraments of the Russian Church such as marriage and confession remained alien to most Tlingit. Similarly, abstract Christian concepts such as of sin and forgiveness were not accepted either. Despite the upheavals of the Russian era, on the eve of the American arrival in Alaska Tlingit society remained a viable and independent entity, and the Tlingit worldview had not yet been seriously challenged by new ideas and experiences. That situation began to change soon after the coming of the powerful, energetic, and acquisitive Waashdan Kwaan. After a decade and a half of their oppressive rule, many of the Tlingit, particularly in Sitka, began to take another look at the Russian Church. 173

5 The Early Decades of the Waashdan K waan Rule, 1867-85

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the establishment of American rule in Alaska, Tlingit relations with the Dleit Kaa changed drastically. Unlike the Russians, the Americans had both the determination and the necessary military power to exercise their control over the entire Lingit Aani, rather than just the town of Novo-Arkhangel'sk (which they renamed "Sitka"). Unlike the Russians, who were concerned primarily with extracting the region's fur, the Americans were eager to explore all of its resources, including fish, minerals, and timber. American missionaries, with their emphasis on eradicating the "old customs" of the Tlingit and indoctrinating all of the Native youngsters with Christian and American values, also differed a great deal from their Orthodox predecessors. While resentful of this multifaceted attack on their way of life as well as their cultural values, the Tlingit, by and large, did not shy away from contacts with the Waashdan Kwaan, whom they saw as a source of attractive new trade goods and other valuable resources. In fact, for the first few decades after the establishment of American colonial rule, Tlingit families enriched themselves a great deal by working for the newcomers or selling food, handicrafts, and other objects to them. Impressed with the wealth and military power of the Waashdan Kwaan, many Tlingit, particularly the younger ones, began to link them to the newcomers' religion and schooling. Consequently, by the late 1870S a significant demand for churches and schools began to be expressed by both high- and low-ranking Natives. Unfortunately for themselves, Tlingit parents could not anticipate that along with the three Rs their children would be indoctrinated with strong negative attitudes toward their own people's way oflife. Neither was conversion to Protestantism and the acquisition of basic schooling a guarantee against EuroAmerican prejudice.' All of this led to a sudden revival of Tlingit interest in the

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Orthodox Church, which had been experiencing serious difficulties after the sale of Alaska and had almost stopped its missionary activity among the "Kolosh." Because the first two decades of the American presence in southeastern Alaska set the stage for the entire post -1867 period of Tlingit history, including the history of its involvement with the Russian Church, this chapter examines the period between 1867 and 1885 in considerable detail. As it demonstrates, the development of Tlingit Orthodoxy in the late nineteenth century cannot be properly understood without an in-depth analysis of Tlingit-American and Orthodox-Presbyterian relations.

The "Boston Men" Arrive On the 18th of March, 1867, Russia and the United States signed a treaty, ratified two months later, by which the former sold its American possessions to the latter. Only weeks after its signing were the governor of Russian America, Dmitrii Maksutov, and his employees notified of the bad news. Maksutov received orders to begin closing out Company affairs and to await the arrival of commissioners appointed by the two governments, who would effect the formal transfer. He was also informed that Alaskan ports were to be opened to all American ships even prior to the transfer ceremony. Wealthy American businessmen as well as ordinary frontiersmen and plain riffraff could not wait to get their hands on Alaska's "riches." As one American correspondent wrote in October of 1867, "Among the civilians on the way to Sitka is a California forty-niner ... with an outfit of whiskey and tobacco, the proceeds of which he will invest in lands ab.out the promising town .... He has an undoubted faith that in a dozen years Sitka will contain fifty thousand inhabitants" (cited in Hinckley 1972:34). The transfer ceremony took place on October 18, 1867: in front of the governor's mansion the Russian flag was lowered and the American one raised, as guns boomed out their salute (Pierce 1990:331). A large crowd, consisting mainly of Americans, watched the ceremony. Few Russians bothered to attend-there was little for them to celebrate. As a sergeant of the U.S. 9th Infantry Regiment who commanded a detachment of soldiers at the raising of the American flag wrote: "The Russians in Sitka all acted as if they were at the Tsar's funeral. The few who are not busy packing their belongings-they are all getting ready to leave for Russia ... wander through the streets with downcast faces" (cited in Fedorova 1973:270). The Tlingit were not invited but watched the event from their canoes which took position in the harbor (Price 1990:21). The ceremony marked the end of Russian governmental authority in Sitka

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and Alaska. Maksutov, who remained in Sitka until 1869, was now only the chief representative of the R A c. Authority in the district (or territory) of Alaska2 now lay with the provisional military ruler in the person of General Davis and a civil power formed by the American inhabitants in the fall of 1867 without any real legal sanction. W. S. Dodge, the customs officer, was elected mayor and also presided over the municipal court. American laws governing commerce and navigation were extended to Alaska. There was also a prohibition on importation, manufacture, and sale of liquor, but it did not prevent a number of saloons and taverns from opening up where liquor was readily available; illicit trading of liquor to Sitka's Russian-Creole and Tlingit inhabitants also began to flourish) The cession of territory and dominion transferred to the U.S. "the right of property in all public lots and squares, vacant lands, and all public buildings, fortifications, barracks, and other edifices which are not private individual property" (text of the Treaty, cited in Pierce 1990:330). At the same time, commercial properties, including the warehouses in Sitka with their rich stocks of furs and trade goods, the company ships, and its trading posts could be sold by Maksutov on behalf of the RAC stockholders. As Pierce points out (ibid.), "the hastilydrafted treaty was vague ... regarding the distinction between government and private property, a fact which would lead to misunderstanding later." Orthodox churches built in the Russian colonies were to remain "the property of such members of the Greek Oriental Church resident in the territory who may choose to worship therein" (R OA M, 1897-98, vol. 2:9). Even before the transfer had actually taken place, eager promoters, who began to arrive in Novo-Arkhangel'sk in the early fall of 1867, began squatting over the whole vicinity of Sitka, preempting the Russian governor's house; one individual even recorded a claim to St. Michael's Cathedral and lands in town owned by the Russian Church. The newcomers, who saw Sitka and the rest of Alaska as simply a wild frontier ready for the taking, quickly preempted the best town lots, threw up a few shacks, and defied the R A C to evict them (Hinckley 1972:34; Lain 1976:48). Immediately after the transfer ceremony, General Jefferson Davis, the commander of the American troops stationed in Alaska, began ordering Russian citizens in Sitka to give up their homes to the soldiers. The Russians protested to Maksutov, stating that the houses were R A C property, but the prince could only advise them to find other places to stay. Davis also ordered a battery to be placed in the Company's main warehouse, blocking the entrance, and stationed sentries on either end of the building, forbidding the Russians to enter without special permission (Pierce 1990:331). A single article of the treaty of 1867 was devoted to the fate of the Native and non-Native inhabitants of Russian America under the new regime:

WAASHDAN KWAAN RULE, 1867-85 The inhabitants of the territory, according to their choice, reserving their natural allegiance, may return to Russia within three years; but if they should prefer to remain in the ceded territory, they, with the exception of the uncivilized native tribes, shall be admitted to the enjoyment of all the rights, advantages, and immunities of citizens of the United States, and shall be maintained and protected in the free enjoyment of their liberty, property, and religion. The uncivilized tribes will be subject to such laws and regulations as the United States may, from time to time, adopt in regard to the aboriginal tribes of that country" (ROAM, 1897-98, vol. 2:9-10). Wishing to return to the mother country and seeing no future for themselves now that the RA c's operation in Alaska had ended, most of the Russians chose to leave Sitka soon after the transfer. A few, who had either been away from Russia for too long to feel any strong urge to go back there or were more entrepreneurial, did take advantage of the offer of citizenship made to them as early as November 1867 by General Davis (Bolkhovitinov 1990:277). In January 1868 the Russian garrison left Sitka, and one year later Maksutov himself sailed for Russia. Some of the more enterprising Russians decided to seek their fortune in the more established and orderly American communities, such as Vancouver or San Francisco, than the wild and dirty frontier town of Sitka. A larger group might have stayed behind, but for the growing economic distress and the "off duty rampagings of General Davis' badly disciplined troops" (Pierce 1990:331). A number of Creoles also left Sitka, but many stayed behind, some because of their attachment to Alaska and many because of poverty and general confusion.4 Only a few of the Creoles took advantage of American citizenship-unable to speak English and perceived by the Americans as "uncivilized half-breeds," they now had a very ambiguous social status which was much lower than the one they had enjoyed under a paternalistic Russian rule. With a few exceptions, most of the Russians/Creoles remaining in Sitka were those who had occupied the lower ranks of the RAe's social hierarchy. A significant number of these people were the Creole widows of Russian and Creole men} In the first year following the sale of Alaska a number of Russian and Creole men could still find work with the RAe and its American successors, as well as with the United States Army. By the late 1860s many of them were unemployed, surviving by occasional odd jobs, Army relief,6 and petty crime. Some Creole women found work doing laundry for the well-to-do Americans or serving as nannies for their children. The majority, however, had no sources of income at all. Given the large number of widows and single women who had no male relatives to support them, it is not surprising that prostitution was listed as the 177

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occupation of thirty-five Creole women in the 1870 census of Sitka conducted by the u.S. Army (Cracroft 1981:93-125).7 Since most of the Americans who descended on Sitka in the late 1860s were single men, demand for women was high, the Russian/Creole females seen as more attractive and more readily available than the Tlingit ones. According to Teichmann (1963:185-86), an Englishman who visited Sitka in 1868, some of the Russian and Creole men openly profited from the women's work as prostitutes. With the sudden influx of poorly disciplined soldiers and frontier riffraff, drinking, debauchery, theft, fighting between men, and violence against women became quite common and involved many of the "Russians," including several of the Orthodox clergymen who labored in the former Novo-Arkhangel'sk in the late 1860s and early 1870S (Ushin's Diary in ARCA, D 434; Howard 1907:45-52). The demoralization of many of the "Russians" was reflected in their poor church attendance. The 1873 census of the town's Orthodox residents states that out of the total of 245 parish members, only 138 fulfilled their Christian duties and could be considered real members of the church (A RCA, D 405). Russian Church officials had a very bleak view of Sitka's Orthodox population. Fr. Nikolai Kovrigin, who had served here for a time during this transitional period, wrote in 1870 in his "Letters from Sitka" that all [?] of the "Russians" remaining in the former capital of Russian America were "paupers surviving with the help of American city charity." Given this situation, the priest advocated transferring the center of the diocese from Sitka to San Francisco, which was finally done in 1870 when Fr. Ioann Mitropol'skii was appointed "the bishop of the Aleutians and Alaska" (ROAM, 1968, vol. 64:148). The pastoral school was also transferred to San Francisco, where several future Alaska priests were later trained. These changes contributed to the further despondency of Sitka's Orthodox inhabitants (cf. Shalkop 1987:201). The Russian Church's prestige in the eyes of the Creoles was clearly undermined by the fact that this major institution of Russian America was no longer supported by secular authorities and by the lack of respect toward it demonstrated by most of the Americans, including the soldiers who allegedly stole some valuable items from St. Michael's Cathedral in the late 1860s. The fact that during the first decade of American rule most Americans in Sitka rarely went to church also had to have an effect on the Creoles' lack of diligence in fulfilling their religious duties. The same was true of Orthodox education: while the Russian Church tried to maintain a parish school in Sitka in the late 1860s and early 1870S, school attendance declined dramatically compared to the pre-1867 era. According to Archpriest Pavel Kedrolivanskii's report to his bishop written in 1869, at the beginning of that year the school was attended by thirty children,

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but after the middle of the year almost half of them, particularly the boys, dropped out. Some of the more mature students enrolled in the new American public school or went to work for the Americans as house servants. Finally, others dropped out "because they were kept at home by their parents under various pretexts" (DRHA, vol. 2:368). This was the first manifestation of a rising Creole indifference toward the Russian parish school, seen by them as being irrelevant in the new world dominated by the Americans (see below). The other problem faced by this institution was "a lack of good teachers and the absence of a good program" (Ushin's Diary, 5-21-1874 in ARCA, D 434). There were clearly some objective reasons for the poverty and social disorder that struck the "Russians" in the late 1860s and early 1870S, but they suffered just as much from the prejudice that characterized the American perception of their community. Since most of them could not speak English, and especially given the low status of "half-breeds" on the post-Civil War American frontier, it is not surprising that the "Russians" (i.e., Creoles) suddenly found themselves in a marginal position, being assigned to a rank only slightly above the "uncivilized tribes" (i.e., the Tlingit) (Lain 1976: 148; cf. Hinckley 1972:56). A few individual Russian men and their families, especially those who managed to find a niche in the new political and economic structure of the two and/or could claim "respectable status" in the old RAC hierarchy, were considered "white" by the Americans, granted American citizenship,8 and even invited to sign the first city charter and vote for its mayor. The majority, however, were repeatedly characterized by the Americans as "superstitious, filthy, drink-addicted, lazy, stupid, immoral, and generally unfit for United States citizenship" (Lain 1976:148). Even such an enlightened Navy officer as Commander Beardslee, who arrived in Sitka in 1879, stated that he found there "very few respectable people" and "a large number of Russians and half-breeds, miserable poverty-stricken creatures, whom it would not be worthwhile to take much trouble about, were it not for our pledge to Russia; and a few [?] unprincipled white [i.e., American] men" (cited in Lain 1976:151). This prejudiced view of the Sitka Russians and Creoles persisted for several decades, even though by the late 1800s quite a few of them had found some legitimate source of income and were becoming more integrated into the town's economy and society (see below). Thus, a Sitka weekly stated in 1891 that the congregation of St. Michael's Cathedral consisted of a few Russians, Creoles, Indians, and halfbreeds, "the latter exhibiting the vices which generally come of mingling the blood of degenerate races" (The Alaskan, 2-7-1891:1). A decade later, an American doctor practicing in Sitka wrote that there were three classes among the area's population: Whites, Russians, and Indians-the Russians not being classed with the Whites, even though there were "some nice people among them" (Wilbur, n.d., vol. 2:400). 179

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The social gap between the newcomers and the majority of the Russian/Creole inhabitants of Sitka was further compounded by their cultural differences and the Americans' ignorance about the history of Russian Alaska and the former status of the RAC'S employees. Particularly hurtful to Russian/Creole pride was the fact that most of the Americans looking down upon them were themselves considered to be at the very bottom of Sitka's new social hierarchy. Teichmann pointed out that while the Army officers' conduct in the late 1860s was bad enough, that of the rank and file was simply atrocious. In his own words, "the few respectable people in town were more on their guard against the soldiers than against the Russians, who were at least good-natured, or even the treacherous Indians" (1963:188). In addition to being poorly disciplined, General Davis's troops were simply bored, because the anticipated "Indian threat" was not really there (see below). To pass the time they drank, socialized, and cohabited with Sitka's "lower class" inhabitants, many of them "Russian half-breeds" whom the soldiers themselves saw as inferior. 9 According to Teichmann (ibid.), Sitka's social hierarchy in the late 1860s consisted of the following strata. On the top was a very small class of "respectable· Americans," including upper officers of the Army, a few customs officials and municipal authorities, and agents of the new commercial companies that succeeded the RAC. Members of this class were more likely to have brought their American spouses with them, the latter trying to promote education and other elements of "civilization" in this rough frontier town. The second class, which had a much lower standing, consisted of traders, keepers of saloons, and dealers in spirits who carried on a more or less illicit trade with the soldiers, the Creoles, and the Tlingit. The third class was composed of "rowdies" -goldminers, shipwrecked sailors, and other frontier types without any definite occupation, who carried loaded revolvers and were always ready for a fight. Most of the Russians and Creoles were clearly assigned to this third rank or even placed below it, although a few of the more "respectable" ("White") Russian families must have been classified with the people of the second stratum. Located below all of these classes were the "uncivilized natives." It should be emphasized here that for several decades the Russians and Creoles remained the majority of the town's population. Thus, according to the 1870 census of Sitka, out of the total population of 391, only 32 were American-born non-Russian "Whites." The rest were Russians and Creoles (Cracroft 1981:93-l25).10 The new prejudices brought to Sitka by the Waashdan Kwaan undoubtedly exacerbated the tensions between the few remaining Russians and the Creoles that had existed prior to 1867. In order to claim a higher status in the new social order, the "better" "Russian" families had to downplay their Native Alaskan or 180

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Creole ancestry and separate themselves from the more "antisocial" segment of the Creole population and especially a small group of Aleuts." The Creoles, in turn, had to increase their distance from the "Kolosh" so as to avoid being classified as "savages" ("Siwashes") or "wild Indians." Although the Americans treated most of Sitka's "Russians" as socially inferior, they at least did not exclude them completely from the town's social life. The "uncivilized natives," however, remained outside the town's boundaries, both literally and symbolically. On the one hand, there was a strong anti-Indian prejudice exhibited by the "California forty-niners" as well as by the soldiers, many of whom had recently fought in the western Indian wars. The California background of many of Sitka's first American settlers is reflected in the term "Ranch" (or "Ranche") that began to be used to describe the Sitka Tlingit village soon after 1867. It was clearly derived from the term "rancheria" commonly used by White Californians to refer to a shantytown of destitute Native Americans. In the Sitka context it had a very definite negative connotationY While the residents of Novo-Arkhangel'sk were never particularly fond of their Tlingit neighbors, they had at least acquired some familiarity with their ways and had come respect them (if only grudgingly) for their military might as well as their artistic and technological skills, not to mention the fact that they relied on them for many of their provisions. Many of the Waashdan Kwaan newcomers, however, had nothing good to say about the "uncivilized Siwashes" living next door to them. They began to refer to Tlingit men as "bucks" and women as "squaws," frequently criticizing their custom of painting the face black to protect it from sunlight and insects, and never tired of commenting on how filthy the "Ranche" was. Even the "gutteral" language of its inhabitants became a common object of Anglo-American ridicule. Thus, for example, John Kinkead, Sitka's first postmaster as well as trading post operator from 1867 to 1871 (and Alaska's first governor in 1884-85), described the local Tlingit as "dirty and vile" (Hinckley 1972:56), while the wife of the local army surgeon, who spent two years in Sitka in the mid1870S, wrote back home that the local Indians were "the most horrible, disgusting, dirty, and hideous set I ever saw. Their faces are all painted and they have rings through their noses and chins" (Laufe 1962:43). While Kinkead despised the Tlingit but was at least forced to get to know them in order to attract them to his trading post, this female member of Sitka's "better class" tried to stay as far away as possible from the "savages," occasionally watching them through binoculars while standing on top of the Russian palisade. A single phrase from her letters betrays this well-educated woman's ignorance of the Native people's culture: "These Indians don't talk anything ... they grunt. I believe their language is called Chinook and Siwash" (ibid.:87). The truth is that the Tlingit were initially 181

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forced to use Chinook Jargon, the Northwest Coast's lingua franca, in their communications with the Waashdan Kwaan, because the latter were totally unfamiliar with either Russian or Tlingit. In a few years, a significant number of Tlingit had already acquired command of quite a few English words and phrases, while only a couple of Sitka's Anglo-American residents could boast about their knowledge of a Tlingit word or sentence (Teichmann 1963:197). Sitka's merchants, who were making a fair profit by purchasing furs and handicrafts from the local Tlingit while selling them various household items, foodstuffs, guns and ammunition, as well as liquor (the last illicitly), expressed these anti-Indian sentiments by their rude treatment of their Native customers. In the late 1860s and early 1870S, one of Sitka's leading Tlingit leaders, Annah60ts, complained loudly that the American storekeepers were treating his people "like dogs," paying them very little for their goods and labor, and kicking them out of their stores if they complained (Sherwood 1965:311; Hinckley 1972:87). The Army officers themselves, who had been given the duty of maintaining law and order in southeastern Alaska and treating all of its Native and nonNative inhabitants fairly, were not immune to such anti-Indian prejudices. General Halleck, who in 1867 was commander of the Military Division of the Pacific and was in charge of formulating plans for the military occupation of Alaska, instructed General Davis to treat the new district as Indian country, following the provisions of the Indian Trade and Nonintercourse Act of 1834. He also recommended vigilance in his dealings with the Tlingit and suggested that there should be guns charged with grape and canister always bearing on the Sitka Indian village. Finally he instructed Davis to impress upon the Alaskan Natives that the federal government regarded them as subject to u.S. law and its protection. Davis was also to warn them that in the event of a crime by an Indian against an American citizen, the entire tribe would be held responsible (see Price 1990:23-27). Given what Halleck saw as the failure of the u.S. Government's Indian policies in the previous decades, he also strongly opposed negotiating treaties with Alaskan Natives, recognizing their title to the land, and establishing reservations in the new district. His own writing as well as his associates' reflects a prevailing view of the southeast Alaska Indians as more independent and sophisticated than their "lower 48" kin but also treacherous and warlike (ibid.:26-32). In fact, the establishment of three additional posts in the Alaska panhandle (in Taku, Wrangell, and Tongass), besides the one in Sitka, clearly reflected the Army's expectation that the Tlingit and Haida were likely to attack the newcomers. As Price (ibid.) correctly points out, in the first decade after the sale of Alaska, 182

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the u.s. Army used the gunboat diplomacy practiced by Great Britain in its British Columbia colony in the 1850S and 1860s as the model for its own treatment of the Tlingit people (see Fisher 1992; Gough 1984). While Halleck and his associates claimed that this was simply a continuation OfRAC'S own practice of pacifying the "wild Indians," the American policy was much harsher and showed much less "respect" for the indigenous inhabitants of Lingit aani. Thus in 1869, after the Kake Tlingit had killed two American traders in retaliation for an earlier killing of one of their own men by a Sitka soldier, the Navy vessel USS Saginaw bombarded and destroyed several of their villages. Even harsher was the Army's retaliation against the Wrangell Kwaan for a drunken Tlingit man's biting off the finger of a soldier's wife (Price 1990:27-28; Hinckley 1972:100 ).13 The last time the Americans destroyed a Tlingit village was in 1882, when they bombarded and burned down the entire village of Angoon (de Laguna 1960:158-72). Despite these violent incidents, the Army's ten-year rule was characterized by rather limited interference in the internal affairs of the Tlingit and willingness to honor at least some of the principles of the indigenous law. On several occasions General Davis agreed to pay blankets to the Tlingit or force a EuroAmerican to make the payment himself as an indemnity for a serious offense against them, usually murder. In addition, the Army's relationship with the Sitka Tlingit tended to be friendlier than with the inhabitants of other southeastern Alaska communities. Many of the intoxicated Indians fined or arrested in Sitka by the Army were not local people but visitors from the outlying communities. One aspect of the U.S. policy vis-ii-vis the Tlingit that closely resembled that of the RAC was its reliance on local Native aristocratic headmen to maintain law and order. In 1874 General Howard appointed Annah60ts, a highly respected and influential head of the Wolf House (gooch Hit) of the Sitka Kaagwaantaan and a brother of the above-mentioned Katliak or Sergei Kostlivtsev, to serve as the Sitka Indians' "paramount chief." This aristocratic leader had the reputation of an advocate of peace and cooperation with the Waashdan Kwaan, which was confirmed by the numerous certificates given to him by the Russians as well as the Americans.

Initial Tlingit Reaction to the Newcomers It is now time for us to ask a fundamental question: what were the Tlingit

thinking about on October 18, 1867, as they watched from a distance the Russian flag being replaced by the Stars and Stripes on top of No ow Tlein? How did they react to this sudden replacement of the An60shi with the Waashdan Kwaan? Even

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though they probably did not know about the specifics of the 1867 Treaty, there could not have been much doubt in their minds that the Americans were now the new rulers, at least inside the boundaries of Novo-Arkhangel'sk. Soon they were to discover that the "Boston Men" considered all of Lingft aani their new possession. If most of the Sitkan Natives probably did not consider the Russians to be their friends, they had at least become used to their presence and had learned how to interact with them so as to obtain material benefits and earn "respect." Although the Kiks.adi were probably still unhappy about the Russian occupation of their house sites and other ancestral lands sixty years earlier, by 1867 most of the people of the Sitka kwaan must have gotten accustomed to the RAC'S presence in their territory. With the departure of the R A C officials and the entire Russian military force, Sitka aristocrats lost the allies with whom they had maintained a relationship of balanced reciprocity. The majority of the remaining Russians and Creoles belonged to the class which most Tlingit, and especially the aanyatx'i, did not consider equal to themselves. The Russian's sudden departure, which may have precluded their organizing any major farewell festivities for the Tlingit neighbors, had to contribute to their loss of status in the eyes of the Tlingit. 14 The Americans were not total strangers to them either: extensive trade with them, which often brought greater profits than those from trade with the RAC, had been carried out in the last decades of the Russian presence by most Tlingit communities outside of Sitka, and especially the southern ones (d. Ginev 1991:182-84). By 1867 the Americans appear to have earned the reputation of being rich and powerful but much less concerned with following the Tlingit protocol of "respect" in their interactions with the Native inhabitants of southeastern Alaska. Their arrival in Sitka was probably seen by many local Tlingit as a boon-a potential source of new goods of better quality and greater variety. What the local Tlingit, as well as their kin throughout southeastern Alaska, did resent was not having been consulted when the Russians sold their landholdings to the Americans. As one U.S. official wrote soon after the transfer, The dissatisfaction among the tribes on account of the sale of the Territory did not arise from any special feeling of hostility, but from the fact that it was sold without their consent, they arguing that their fathers originally owned all the country, but allowed the Russians to occupy it for their mutual benefit, in that the articles desired by them could be obtained from the Russians in exchange for furs; but the right of the Russians to sell the Territory, except with the intention of giving them the proceeds, is denied (Sherwood 1965:307).

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General Rousseau, the U.S. commissioner, who took part in the transfer ceremony, wrote that one of the local Tlingit leaders told him angrily that even though his people had allowed the Russians to occupy part of the (Baranof) island, they were not going to turn it over "to any and every fellow that came along" (cited in Bolkhovitinov 1990:277). Finally General Davis summed up the Tlingit reaction to the American occupation of their lands in his report to headquarters in San Francisco, written two years after the transfer. In his words, Since the occupancy of the territory by us, most of the Indian tribes have observed peaceful relations with the whites, and are beginning to exhibit encouraging signs of becoming more reconciled to the change of government over them and the new system of trade adopted among them; their distrust and dissatisfaction which was very manifest among them, when they first found themselves transferred to new rulers, have, to a considerable extent, diminished. III feelings yet exist, however, in sufficient force, with several of the tribes, as to require attention and circumspection in dealing with them. They frequently take occasion to express their dislike at not having been consulted about the transfer of the territory. They do not like the idea of whites settling in their midst, without being subjected to their jurisdiction; in some instances they have expressed a determination to exact tribute for the privilege of trading among them. I have taken all the pains I could, in my 'talk' with them, to explain to them the nature of the new relations they have formed by the change of government, and to instruct them, as far as I could, in their duties to the government of the United States. The new system of trade introduced by our people has required a great deal of explanation; they are beginning to understand these subjects a little better, and if proper protection is guaranteed them, they will, in the course of time, become pretty good traders (cited in Price 1990:31-32).'5

Of course, one could argue that the American "gunboat diplomacy" prevented the Tlingit from making a truly free choice between accepting the American occupation of Alaska or resisting it. The bombardment of Kake and Wrangell in 1869 undoubtedly impressed the indigenous inhabitants of Lingit aani with the newcomers' military might. The only kind of resistance the Tlingit could have offered to the new colonizers (in addition to occasional ambushes) was withdrawal from contact with Waashdan Kwaan soldiers and settlers-during the first decade of the American occupation it could still be done, since the number of newcomers in southeastern Alaska was rather small. This, however, did not happen. Despite their resentment of the newcomers' lack of "respect" for their own traditional law and their more active interference in their internal affairs than had been practiced by the Anooshi, the Tlingit were clearly eager to take 185

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advantage of the new opportunities to earn wealth by working for and trading with the Americans. The population of Sitka and other Tlingit settlements located next door to the White ones continued to grow steadily throughout the first decade of the American occupation. 16 In Sitka the Tlingit not only continued to sell food and furs to the Euro-Americans, as they had prior to 1867, but also increased their involvement in the local economy as lumberjacks, domestic workers, packers for mining expeditions, longshoremen, and laborers who assisted the soldiers in laying the boardwalks. In fact, the Sitka Tlingit were so eager to work for the Waashdan Kwaan that some of the local Euro-Americans were complaining that the "Siwashes" were taking jobs away from them (Colyer 1870:85-88). It appears that General Davis was right when he wrote in 1870 that the new wealth earned by the Tlingit through trading with and working for the Americans did help soothe their "wounded pride at not having been consulted in the treaty of purchase" (Price 1990:32). However, they did continue to be irritated by the Army's insistence on separating them from the Euro-American settlement in Sitka. During the first decade of the American presence in Sitka, Tlingit access to the town increased significantly but still remained limited. The old and dilapidated Russian palisade-a fiercely hated symbol of exclusion-remained in place and continued to be guarded by soldiers. The Tlingit could enter the town and remain there from sunrise till sunset; gunfire from the fort gave them warning to leave the town, and those who remained were sent to prison (Teichmann 1963:193). The persistence of the Russian legacy oflimiting Tlingit access to the town made it clear to the Tlingit that the Waashdan Kwaan distrusted them and were not willing to show them sufficient respect, even though the Americans also relied heavily on their labor and the items they offered for sale. '7 The Tlingit must also have harbored resentment against the double standard that characterized the administration of justice in Sitka and elsewhere in the Panhandle. As William Dodge wrote to Vincent Colyer in November of 1869, the Sitka Indians came to distrust American justice "when they found themselves in the guardhouse, but never saw the officers in, when in like condition" (cited in Sherwood 1965:312).

One area of Tlingit-American interaction where a major change had taken place since the American takeover was the greater availability of liquor in Sitka and other southeastern Alaska communities after 1867. The Tlingit were now not only purchasing intoxicants but also brewing their own powerful drink, called "hootch," having learned the simple technology from an American soldier (Sherwood 1965; Fortuine 1989:285-90). While those Native people who had gotten accustomed to the newcomers' "crazy water" may have welcomed this change, those of their shamans, elders, and leaders who understood the devastating 186

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consequences of drinking for Tlingit survival were seriously concerned about this change (Kan 1979-95). American and Russian observers of Sitka Tlingit life in the first decade after transfer frequently mentioned intoxication as the main cause of fighting between individuals, families and clans (e.g., Ushin's Diary in AReA, D 434). On the whole, the Tlingit attitude toward the Americans in the first decade after the "sale" of Alaska could be characterized as ambivalent. Their feelings about the pre-1867 Russians had not been very different, but now the attraction of the newcomers' wealth was stronger and so was the resentment against their interference in Tlingit social and, eventually, economic life. The Americans must have been seen by the Tlingit as richer and much more powerful than the Russians, but also much less concerned with treating them "respectfully." Deep down, the Tlingit clearly harbored considerable resentment against the American's heavy-handedness and refusal to recognize them as the rightful owners of southeastern Alaska. On the surface, however, they professed their friendship and cooperation with the Waashdan Kwaan, and demonstrated it by flying the Stars and Stripes in front of their houses and on their boats.'s Soon after the transfer, Tlingit leaders and their kin must have realized the importance of learning the newcomers' language in order to be better equipped for dealing with them. Thus when Vincent Colyer, the Indian commissioner, visited Sitka and spoke to a group of Tlingit, they expressed their approval of his proposal to establish a school and a hospital for them, and to exercise sanitary supervision of the village (Colyer 1870:85-88). In 1870 the Alaska Times (4-9-1870:1) reported that local Indian "chiefs" expressed great satisfaction as to having a school established among them and the desire that their children attend regularly. Some of the enthusiastic reactions to these proposals made by American officials were probably just the typical polite response that a Tlingit audience would traditionally give to a high-ranking visitor who had just addressed them with an eloquent speech. Nevertheless an interest in appropriating some of the power of the Waashdan Kwaan by learning to read their "strong papers" (x'ux' latseeni) was beginning to develop among both the aristocracy and the upwardly mobile members of the commoner rank. The establishment of American rule and the first decade of the American presence did have a certain influence on the Tlingit economy. Nevertheless, even in Sitka, traditional subsistence activities were not seriously affected until a later period and continued to dominate the Native annual cycle. As was the case during the Russian era, much of the wealth earned by working for the Dleit Kaa was channeled into the traditional ceremonial system, where the old aristocracy appears to have maintained its dominant role (Kan 1979-95, 1989b). Even more

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limited was the American influence on the rest of Tlingit culture and society. While the number of store-bought items in the Tlingit household continued to increase, as did the amount of European clothing worn by them, the old-style winter house with the fireplace in the center was still the main type of dwelling in Sitka and elsewhere. Many people still wore blankets, and older women still wore labrets (The Alaska Times, 6-25-1869).'9 Even those "heathen" customs that the Russians had tried so hard to eradicate or at least undermine, continued to be practiced. Thus on November 27, 1869, The Alaska Times reported that attempts to kill slaves at the funerals of highranking persons were still made in Sitka, although General Davis had prohibited such practice. Cremation, which had not yet come under attack, was still the preferred mode of disposing of the dead in Sitka, not to mention elsewhere in Lingit aani. With the exception of a few Natives married to Russians or Americans and living inside the American settlements, the great majority of the Tlingit continued to take an active part in such traditional ritual activities as housededications, mortuary and memorial feasts, and peace dances. The only area where the presence of the American army had made some impact was interclan and intertribal warfare, which did begin to diminish, although it was not totally eradicated until the end of the century. Despite having been weakened by the pre-1867 epidemics and the activities of the Russian missionaries and physicians, shamans continued to practice in every community, including Sitka. 20

The Decline of Tlingit Orthodoxy This persistence of the traditional culture was reflected in a decline in Tlingit participation in the services of the Russian Church. If the state of the Tlingit mission looked rather bleak in the last decade prior to the sale of Alaska, the situation became even worse in the late 1860s and early 1870S. On the one hand, due to the departure of most of the Russians and diminished financial support, the Church itself was barely holding its own and had little incentive or manpower to proselytize among the "Kolosh."21 In fact, Hieromonk Ilarion (who labored in Sitka in 1868-69) seems to have been the last priest assigned specifically to the "Kolosh mission" until its revival in the second half of the 1880s. In his report to the bishop, Ilarion wrote that during the entire year of 1869 he managed to baptize only three persons and performed no marriages or funerals, since the Tlingit were disposing of their dead "according to their own customs" (A RCA, D 330). The priest also stated that during that year he visited the Sitka Indian village frequently, but its inhabitants, baptized and nonbaptized alike, "always remained indifferent to the Word of God" (ibid.). During that entire 188

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year, only eleven women and seven men had confession and communion (AReA, D 406). The only "Kolosh" listed as part of the St. Michael parish in the early 1870S were a few women and one or two men-the same persons who had been living inside the Russian fort prior to 1867 (AReA, D 405, D 414). While the records of Trinity ("Kolosh") Church for these early years of American occupation have not been found, it appears that it was very rarely attended by the Tlingit. Now that they had more opportunities to enter the town, they preferred to visit the cathedral, although even its splendor did not attract a large Native audience. I suspect that the aristocracy, which had lost most of its Russian godfathers, had become particularly indifferent toward church attendance. 22 In 1869 Bishop Pavel complained to Metropolitan Innokentii (Veniaminov) that, while the Tlingit were now free to roam the streets of Sitka during the day and frequently passed by the cathedral, they rarely attended services, and even if they did, they only stayed for a few minutes. The "Kolosh" church stood empty most of the time (D R H A, vol. 1:151). Sometimes the only parishioners present during the services there were the Russians and the Creoles (AReA, D 409). Despite these developments, a certain link between the Tlingit and the Orthodox communities remained-after all, they had been living side by side for over fifty years. In addition to ties between a few individual Tlingit and Russians/ Creoles which must have survived the transfer, the church itself remained the main context in which the town's Orthodox inhabitants continued to interact with Sitka's indigenous population. Thus when in 1869 a slave destined to be killed at an aristocrat's funeral escaped into the town, he hid inside the cathedral, forcing the bishop to intercede on his behalf with General Davis (The Alaska Times, 11-27-1869). A perfect illustration of the continuity as well as change in this relationship was the funeral of an Orthodox Tlingit leader, whom the Russians called "Prince Nikolai," witnessed by Teichmann (1963:234-43) in 1868. The deceased was undoubtedly a man of high rank, since his mortuary rites and the ceremony of selecting his successor were attended by visitors from several friendly kwaans. According to Teichmann, he was an old man, sixty years of age, "who was regarded by the Sitka Indians as their chief and was recognized as such by the Russian officials" (ibid.:234). He may have been "toen Nikolai K'akuk," listed in the 1867 records of Trinity Church as being sixty-seven years old (AReA, D 416). It is also possible that Teichmann simply misunderstood his Christian name, which was actually "Mikhail." He does mention that the house of the deceased was located next door to the palisade and flew the American flag. Prior to 1867 this was the house of Mikhail Kooxx'aan who, in fact, did pass away soon after the

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transfer. It is interesting that despite the deceased aristocrat's ties with the Russians, his prolonged illness was treated by shamans rather than the town's doctor. Nikolai's wake consisted of two very different observances which took place on different days and reflected the various aspects of his total social identity. During the ritual of the first day following his death, Christian and secular Russian and American symbols were prominent. A flag in front of his house was flying at halfmast, while inside the house the corpse was displayed in the back, on top of a catafalque covered with black cloth. A general's cocked hat and a Russian sword were laid on top of the coffin, while two candles were burning next to it. At the foot of the catafalque Teichmann saw a "Russian acolyte in white surplice, who was saying the prayers for the dead" and burning incense. Guns, hunting and fishing gear, and even the dead man's canoe were also placed all around. The next day Teichmann saw none of the artifacts associated with the Russian Church. The deceased was no longer displayed in a European fashion but was propped up in the back of his house in a traditional Tlingit manner, dressed in skins and blankets. Instead of prayers, Native songs and dances were now performed by the mourners. The old-style wake lasted longer than the Christian one but was followed by an Orthodox funeral. The funeral procession, which moved from the Native village to the cathedral, consisted of six Tlingit men, dressed in European clothing, who carried the coffin, draped in an American flag and with the dead man's sword and European-style hat displayed on its top. Twenty women mourners also followed the coffin, and so did the town's (American?) policeman and a band consisting of three men (also, most likely, American or Russian/Creole). The entire "Russian" population of Sitka, dressed in its best, participated in the procession as well, which was accompanied by bell ringing. However, the great majority of the Sitka Indians and all of the visitors from other communities apparently stayed away. The bishop himself, as well as several priests and deacons, officiated at the funeral mass, "during which all of the Russians present ... held lighted wax candles and a number of choir boys continually burned incense" (ibid.:236). At the conclusion of the ceremony, the bishop gave a short address describing the merits of the deceased. Following that, three clergymen (but not the bishop) many of the Russians accompanied the body to the cemetery located behind the Tlingit village where burial huts containing human ashes surrounded the newly excavated grave. The American flag was taken off the coffin, while inside of it various personal possessions of the deceased as well as some food and a bottle of wine were placed. Amid the female Tlingit mourners' traditional lamentations, the grave was filled up. Despite the ceremony's "civilized" appearance, all of its participants, including the "Russians" who spoke with Teichmann, knew that it was "only a pretense 190

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intended to uphold the dignity of the church amongst the natives" (ibid.:238) and that a few hours later, the body would be exhumed and cremated. That is why most of the Tlingit chose to stay away. They did, however, take part in cremation which took place on the same spot where the grave was located. This time, however, no non-Tlingit observers were allowed to come near the site. The climax of this "pagan" death ritual was an attempt to sacrifice a slave, but the intended victim managed to escape into the town. The funeral party demanded his return and offered four slaves in exchange, but the Americans refused and imposed a curfew on the village. Only a threat to fire on it from a gunboat settled the dispute. This remarkable event says something important about the nature of Tlingit"Russian" relations and the Tlingit attitude toward the Orthodox Church in the aftermath of the transfer. To begin with, an Orthodox funeral was something that most Tlingit, especially those from outside of Sitka, refused to have anything to do with. At the same time, some of the Sitka aristocrats, who had maintained a long-standing alliance with the Russians, were willing to add Orthodox observances to the traditional pre-Christian ones in order to demonstrate the breadth of the deceased person's social ties. The participation of the entire "Russian" community in this funeral was undoubtedly seen as evidence of the high status of the deceased and of his matrikin. The use of American symbols, and especially the flag, played the same role-it illustrated the deceased headman's alliance or, at least, peaceful relations with the powerful newcomers and (possibly) his ability to appropriate their most important "crest" (Kan 1979-95). Finally, most, if not all, of the Christian Tlingit living in Sitka were as strongly opposed to burial as were their non-baptized kin from other communities. The prospect of having the dead body lie and slowly decompose in the wet and cold ground was something the great majority of the Tlingit were not yet willing to accept (see chapter 9; cf. Kan 1987a). As in the pre-1867 era, they took from Christianity and the EuroAmerican culture only those symbols and ritual acts that could enhance their status and prestige within their own community and, to a lesser extent, in the eyes of the Dleit Kaa. From the point of view of the Russian Church, this ostentatious funeral was a symbolic statement (made as much to the local Indians as to the Americans) of its past glory and the success of its mission among the "Kolosh." Most remarkable was the participation of the entire town's Russian/Creole population, despite the strain existing in their relationships with the Tlingit during this period. Their taking part in a ceremony they themselves knew was "just a pretense" could be explained by the mere fact that participating in the funeral of a fellow Orthodox person was considered a sacred duty. In addition, this event may have given them an opportunity to demonstrate to Alaska's new rulers that the Ortho191

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dox were still occupying a permanent and respectable place in Sitka's total social universe. The fact that this funeral was Christian mainly on the surface only underscored the precarious situation in which the "Russian" community and its Church found itself in the aftermath of the transfer. 23 The state of the Russian Church's Tlingit mission did not improve in the 1870S. Whenever they were approached by the clergy, the Native Sitkans invoked the same old model of reciprocal exchange they had used in their relationship with the Church prior to 1867. Bishop Ioann Mitropol'skii reported to the Holy Synod in 1876 that spreading Orthodoxy among the "Kolosh" was a very difficult task because they demanded payment or gifts of clothing for getting baptized or sending their children to the parish school, arguing that "when the Russians were governing Sitka, they were paid for everything" ([) R H A, vol. 1:162). Given this situation, Bishop Ioann decided that Sitka no longer needed two churches and in 1872 ordered Trinity Church razed. The actual destruction of the "Kolosh" church was completed in 1875 (Ushin's Diary, 4-29-1875, in AReA, D 434). Despite the fact that the Tlingit rarely entered that building, the demolition of the church must have contributed to their impression of having been abandoned by the Russian clergy (cf. Donskoi 1893:859). A young Russian priest, Fr. Nikolai Mitropol'skii (brother to Bishop Ioann), who arrived in Sitka in 1875 and remained there for a decade, was as indifferent to the task of Tlingit Christianization as were his predecessors (see below). Despite all this, memories of the Russian presence in Sitka and a special relationship maintained with high-ranking Russians by the Tlingit aristocracy survived, and when a proper opportunity arose, this relationship was quickly reestablished. When Alaska's new bishop, Nestor, visited Sitka in 1879, he discovered that the Tlingit were happy to see him distribute silver crosses among them and bless them. Many of the local leaders showed him the various certificates given to them by the RAe which they had carefully preserved. Upon their request, Nestor gave them twenty new signed and sealed certificates confirming that they had visited him (D R H A, vol. 1:167). Since older crests had always been valued more highly than newer ones, "strong papers" given by the Russians continued to be seen as more prestigious than more recent ones obtained from the Waashdan Kwaan. 24

1877-79: The Army's Withdrawal and the

Last "Kolosh Scare" in Sitka The early 1870S were a time of disappointment for those Americans who had arrived in Sitka in search of an economic bonanza. In fact, with the departure of 192

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a substantial portion of the district capital's Russian population, Sitka's bustling economy went into decline. 25 In February of 1873 the hastily organized Sitka City Council held its last meeting. Some of the American frontiersmen moved on to greener pastures, and throughout the 1870S the "Russians" remained the majority of the town's population. According to Sherwood's (1965:326) calculations, Sitka's non-Orthodox "White" population in 1877 consisted of about forty Americans (both American-born and naturalized citizens), plus another forty of their dependents. During the same period, the Russian Church had eighty-nine naturalized "American citizens" (Russians and Creoles, plus a few recent American converts who had married Orthodox women), one hundred and seventy-five "Creoles," and fifteen "Natives" (most of them Aleuts and Kodiak people) on its roll (AReA, D 414). Unable to earn enough money or survive on limited hunting, fishing, and gardening, many of them continued to suffer from poverty, and only the Army's handouts saved those on the very bottom of Sitka's society from starvation. The Tlingit situation, however, was quite different. Fish and game remained their mainstay, while they could also earn some cash by selling furs and food supplies to the Americans, just as they had done prior to 1867. In the mid-1870s the center of southeastern Alaska's frontier economy temporarily shifted to Fort Wrangell, which became the starting point of the journey up the Stikine River undertaken by hundreds of American goldminers whose destination was the Cassiar (Dease Lake) region in the interior of British Columbia. Working as packers, many of the local Tlingit as well as representatives of other kwaans were able to earn good wages. During the same period salmon canneries became another major American economic enterprise in the Alaska panhandle. The first cannery, operating at Klawock on Prince of Wales Island in the early and mid1870S, finally began to bring its owners a decent profit by 1878. During the same year another small cannery was opened in the vicinity of Sitka. Even though this particular venture was abandoned in 1879, it demonstrated how interested the Tlingit were in earning money by catching fish for the canneries and even making the cans. In fact, during this time a major confrontation occurred between a group of Sitka Tlingit and the cannery's owners over the use of Chinese fishermen. The Natives' opposition to the use of imported labor was so strong that, in Hinckley's words (1972:126), "The infuriated natives were pacified only after their chiefs had been promised that the Chinese transported north were there merely to instruct them" (cf. Price 1990:48-52). By the mid-1880s work in and for the canneries, mining, woodcutting, and packing became major sources of cash for many Tlingit males, while Tlingit women were earning good wages by selling "curios" to American tourists who began visiting the Panhandle (cf. Wyatt 1987). 193

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With the Tlingit from Sitka, Wrangell, and other communities becoming increasingly drawn into the southeastern Alaska capitalist economy, serious confrontations between them and the American settlers began to diminish. Although the Tlingit continued to demand compensation for the lives of their kin killed by drunken Euro-Americans or in work-related accidents, they usually settled for payment in blankets rather than blood. As a result, General Davis' troops had very little to do and had to pass the time performing civil works in Sitka or arresting intoxicated Creoles and Indians. The General stated flatly that "There is no danger whatever from the Indians" (The Alaska Herald, 7-13-1874). To maintain morale and to keep busy, his troops interpreted any minor incident involving a Tlingit as a major military affair. Thus, when in February of 1877 a Tlingit man fleeing from jail was wounded by soldiers and then threatened to attack them, "the miliary authorities prepared their Gatlings and other light Field Guns and placed them in favorable positions for defense; ... two companies, 25 men each, of the Russian inhabitants of the two were organized and armed with Springfield muskets." An attempt to organize a company among Sitka's American population failed. In the end, no Indian attack took place (The Sitka Post, 2-5-1877). Having finally realized that the Army's presence in Sitka and the rest of the Alaska Panhandle was not really necessary and wanting to use the soldiers to suppress the Nez Perce uprising in Idaho, the u.S. Government decided to withdraw the troops during the summer of that year (Hinckley 1972:101-4; Naske and Slotnick 1987:67). The Army's withdrawal, which left the custom's collector Mottrom D. Ball of the Treasury Department as the only government official in the territory, caused panic among many of Sitka's inhabitants. Expectations of an Indian attack persisted throughout 1877-78 and led to a major crisis in 1879. The "Russian" community, with Fr. Nikolai Mitropol'skii acting as its spokesman, played the central role in this controversy, which ended up being more a farce than a tragedy. The events of 1879 merit our attention as the lowest point in the history of Tlingit relations with Sitka's "Russian" community and, by extension, the Orthodox Church. 26 The anxiety that the Army's departure produced among Sitka's AngloAmerican and "Russian" population had a lot to do with their interpretation of this act as a sign of the American government's lack of interest in Alaska and its "White" inhabitants. The troops' withdrawal was also a major blow to the local merchants' commercial activities. As Hinckley (1972:86-87) points out, southeastern Alaska's merchants had previously encouraged "Indian scare" alarms, because "pleas for help meant United States Revenue Marine or naval vessels with spendthrift crews." In addition, the Army was the main enforcer oflaw and order 194

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in town, and with its departure, unlawful activities did increase significantly. As soon as the last soldier left Sitka, Creoles and Tlingit began raiding government buildings, striping the old hospital, and destroying the blockhouse. While the Creoles were simply trying to obtain free firewood, the Tlingit, in my opinion, were inspired by persistent anger against the wall that separated them from the town, interpreting it as a continuing symbol of the Dleit Kaa disrespect toward them. In fact, in October of 1877 the old Russian palisade became the main object of their pilfering, when fifty young men carried off a big portion of this dilapidated structure. The absence of the Army meant the end of the hated curfew and gave the local Tlingit a chance to act with greater dignity and occasional aggressiveness. According to local reports, they "thronged aboard the monthly steamer and behaved in an insolent manner" (Sherwood 1965:323). The revenue cutter Wolcott, which visited Sitka periodically, did little to "pacify" the emboldened Native Sitkans. Despite its captain's orders, they continued pulling down the stockade for firewood (ibid.). Particularly frightening to Sitka's non-Tlingit inhabitants were the potlatches and other large ceremonies accompanied (or more often followed) by some consumption of alcohol. 2 7 Every time guests from other Kwaans descended on Sitka, the towns people prepared for an Indian attack. To their great relief, no attacks were launched that fall, even though several major potlatches had taken place. Having previously been restricted in their access to the White settlement, the Tlingit now roamed the streets freely. It is conceivable that they were venting their anger against some of the town's inhabitants who had offended them earlier. At the same time, all of the existing documents indicate that no serious collective attempts to attack the town took place. In fact, one Navy officer who toured the Alaska Panhandle in 1877 reported that the Tlingit in Sitka did not express any negative feelings against the way they were treated by the Euro-Americans. They understood that "all their supplies and money come from the white man, and they think it would be foolish of them to do anything to drive out the men whose presence is a material benefit" (The Alaskan, 2-12-1898). Years later, Sitka's EuroAmerican old-timers claimed that after the Army's withdrawal, "chief" Annah60ts made the following threatening statement: "The Russians have stolen this country from us and after they have gotten most of the furs out of the country, they have sold it to the Boston Men for a big sum of money, and now the Americans are mad because they have found that the Russians have deceived them, and have abandoned the country. And we are glad to say that after so many years of hard fight we get our country back" (The Alaskan, 2-12-1898). While the old Kaagwaantaan aristocrat may have entertained such ideas, the fact that he soon turned out to be the main "defender and protector" of the town's White popula195

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tion casts doubt on this statement. More likely it was a product of Euro-American imagination stimulated by anti-Indian hysteria. While some of the town's AngloAmerican population saw the situation in Sitka in 1877-78 through the prism of the Indian wars that were still raging in the "lower 48," to its "Russian" inhabitants it brought recollections of the Tlingit-Russian confrontations of the RAC era and especially the events of 1855, as well as the memories and the mythology surrounding the more distant battles of 1802 to 1804 and other early skirmishes. The "Russian" attitudes toward the new freedom of movement enjoyed by the Sitka Tlingit after the Army's withdrawal were detailed in a report written by Fr. Mitropol'skii to the Alaska Consistory in San Francisco (R OA M, 1971, vol. 67:18791). Before turning to this interesting document, a few words must be said about its author. Born in Russia in 1849, he graduated from the seminary in 1868 and was sent to Alaska in 1870. Having served as a deacon on Kodiak for several years, he married the daughter of the local priest, a member of the prominent Creole family, the Kashevarovs (Kashevaroffs). In 1875 he arrived in Sitka to serve as the priest of St. Michael's Cathedral. Unlike his predecessors, Fr. Nikolai was active in the social and political life of the American segment of the town's population, while also being involved in the social life of the local "Russians." His house was a frequent place of balls , Christmastide masquerades, and amateur theater performances, and was visited by the "Russians" as well as by Army and Navy officers alike. Despite his limited command of English, in 1879 Mitropol'skii was elected city councilman. While some of the older members of his parish resented Fr. Nikolai's "broad and liberal views" and his close relationships with the Yankees, his conduct was an indication of the realization that the future of Sitka's "Russian" community lay in greater cooperation with its Anglo-American residents and visitors (Scidmore 1885:170-71).28 Constantly suffering from a lack of money, Fr. Nikolai began conducting tours of the cathedral for visiting American tourists-a practice which to this day continues to bring a fair amount of badly needed cash to the Sitka church. Eventually he decided to reduce his big debts, accumulated during the 1880s, by selling some church lands. This further antagonized his parishioners and led to his removal from Sitka and his transfer to San Francisco in the mid-1880s (ARCA, B 20-21). Proselytizing among the Tlingit was not a major item on Fr. Mitropol'skii's agenda. In fact, his own attitude toward the "Kolosh," as evidenced by his reports and petitions, exhibited the worst antiTlingit prejudice and reflected the fears prevalent among both the "Russian" and the "American" segments of Sitka's population. Written some time after the U.S. Army's withdrawal from Alaska, Fr. Mitropol'skii's report or petition was a plea to the Ecclesiastical Consistory, which he asked to appeal to the Russian ambassador in Washington for help in

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interceding with the American Government on behalf of Sitka's "Russian" population, so that some kind of guarantee against Indian abuses would be provided for it. In fact, he concludes his petition by stating that the truthfulness of his statements could be verified, if necessary, by the signatures of Sitka's Russian inhabitants. The petition states that while the Army was stationed in the former Novo-Arkhangel'sk, the rights and freedoms guaranteed to the remaining Russian inhabitants of Alaska and to the Orthodox Church by the 1867 transfer treaty were protected from Indian abuses. Since 1877, however, the lives and property of Sitka's Orthodox residents had been threatened by their "savage" neighbors' misconduct. The latter included removing large sections of the old Russian stockade, looting and damaging two empty houses owned by the church, and destroying the crosses and railings in several Orthodox cemeteries, including the one located next to Trinity Church. Most appalling, from the priest's point of view, was the "Kolosh" vandalism of St. Michael's Cathedral, including the breaking of windows and especially playing cards, sleeping, and loitering on the church's porch. The Russian residents' private property, according to the priest, was also under attack. At night the Indians would take apart the small fences surrounding their vegetable gardens and dig up whatever was growing there, thus depriving the owners of one of their few sources of food. Sometimes the "Kolosh" even dared to enter the Russians' houses and, if no one was watching, would steal their possessions. If the owner managed to chase them off, they usually would come back in "gangs" of fifteen or twenty, break the windows, and attempt to pillage the house. Intoxicated Kolosh, turned away from the Russian-owned houses, also came back to avenge the owner's "insult" by throwing stones at his house. It is difficult to establish how accurate this list of grievances was. Like the rest of his parishioners, Fr. Nikolai was undoubtedly troubled and frightened by the breaking of boundaries between his and the "Kolosh" communities, a process which intensified with the Army's departure. While he most likely exaggerated the extent of the "Indian abuses," I suspect that some of the Tlingit anger against the Russian intruders, accumulated during the years of the RAe presence in Sitka, was now being expressed in acts of petty vandalism and theft. After all, as I pointed out earlier, the Tlingit had always perceived RA c employees' use oflocal resources (such as fish, timber, etc.) as theft.29 At the same time, a single sentence in the priest's report explains why stealing from the helpless Russians had become such a common practice-a number of the town's Euro-American residents were buying this stolen property from the Tlingit, thus encouraging their misconduct. A sense of freedom, of being able 197

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once again to feel like masters in their old territory must also have played a role in this behavior. As Mitropol'skii puts it, in response to the Russian reprimands the Tlingit responded that "there are no soldiers here any more and we can do whatever we wish." The Natives' attacks against Church property is particularly significant, since it indicated that they continued to view the cathedral, the cemeteries, and other Church-owned structures as simply part of the Russian communities' possessions and thus fair game, rather than as something sacred and shared by the Native and non-Native Orthodox people. Mitropol' skii' s petition also expressed his community's frustration with American authorities, as represented by customs officials, whom the "Russians" perceived as being totally indifferent to their plight. Their lack of concern about America's "citizens by purchase" is illustrated by an incident that occurred in November 1877 during the customs ship's brief visit. "At that time," writes Fr. Nikolai, "the Sitka savages organized some sort of a festivity and up to one hundred guests from other Indian villages came to visit them. Festivities among these savages consist of dancing and excessive consumption of home-made vodka (hoochinu). Suddenly towards the end of the festivities, when the savages' minds were totally clouded by this brew, a rumor spread that they were planning to wage an open attack on the white residents and kill several of them in honor of the festivities." The only possible source of this rumor was the Russians themselves-inspired by memories of slave killings that had accompanied recent major Tlingit mortuary and memorial ceremonies, they now cast themselves in the role of the sacrificial victims. The Russians' fear was further aggravated by their discovery on the day following the appearance of this rumor that the customs ship had quietly left Sitka during the night. Fortunately for the agitated Orthodox residents, none of them was sacrificed during the ceremony-in fact the killing of slaves had just about stopped by that time. However, Mitropol'skii and his parishioners continued to believe that every major gathering of the "Kolosh" in Sitka could put their own lives on the line. As he put it, "God forbid, if the rumor turned out to be true. Savages cannot be trusted." Sitka's Russian residents' plea for help, so dramatically stated by Fr. Nikolai, remained unheeded. In this atmosphere of fear and suspicion, which many of Sitka's Anglo-American residents shared with the majority of its "Russian" inhabitants, wild rumors continued to circulate. Combined with a series of incidents involving the Tlingit that took place in 1877-78, they contributed to the "great Indian scare" of the winter and spring of 1879. The events leading up to this "massacre" which never materialized can be briefly summarized as follows.3° In 1878 five of six Tlingit crew members recruited by the captain of the ship San Diego to hunt fur seals perished when their canoe capsized in the Bering Sea. All

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of them were members of the Kiks.adi clan, two of the hunters close relatives of "chief" K'alyaan, a direct descendant of the famous warrior and Baranov's nemesis and the head of the At60 Waxijee Hit house group. The sole survivor of the expedition was finally awarded $lOO by the company that had hired him, but most of that money had been spent on legal fees and living expenses in San Francisco where he fought his battle against the company. Upon his return to Sitka, this man renewed his claims, arguing that the company had promised him and his fellow hunters five dollars for each day they remained on board the San Diego. Unfortunately his claim could not be substantiated because the ship's captain had drowned as well. The relatives of the deceased hunters also tried unsuccessfully to get the company to pay them for the Kiks.adi lives lost at sea (Sherwood 1965:327-28; Ushin's Diary, May 1877 in AReA, D 434). According to John Brady's unpublished account (Brady Collection, Beinecke Library, Yale University), what made the Kiks.adi so unhappy about this incident was the fact that their rivals, the Kaagwaantaan, had turned out to be more successful in pursuing their own claims resulting from the death of one of their members. When a high-ranking Kaagwaantaan and a close relative of "Chief" Annax60ts died, having drunk undiluted liquor purchased from an American miner, his clan quickly received $250 in gold coins from the seller. The Kaagwaantaan then proceeded to tease the Kiks.adi about their inability to get compensation from the Waashdan Kwaan responsible for the death of their relatives. Another incident, which occurred in January of 1879, further strained Kiks.adi relations with Sitka's Euro-American community. When a lone American resident of the Hot Springs, located twelve miles from Sitka, was murdered by some Tlingit, a reward for their arrest was posted, and soon thereafter two Kiks.adi men were apprehended by Annax60ts and locked inside the guardhouse to await transportation south to stand trial. The alleged murderers' clan was faced with what it perceived to be a double standard-while five of its members had died without compensation, the killing of a White man resulted in the immediate arrest of two of their kin. This prompted the offended clan to renew their claims for just compensation for the deaths of the seal hunters. Commissioner Ball continued to stall, while an intoxicated K'alyaan allegedly threatened to kill five Sitka merchants if payment for his relatives' lives was not forthcoming (Sherwood 1965:328). Finally Ball agreed to pay the Kiks.adi an amount equal to the wages owed to each of the drowned men at the time of their deaths, which was an amount smaller than the $200 K'alyaan had been demanding for each of the five lost lives (Beardslee 1882:45). Kiks.adi anger mounted, fueled by further heavy drinking in which some of the clan's younger members were then engaged. On February 6, 1879, Sitka's 199

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terrified inhabitants heard the loud noises of a drunken uproar emanating from the "Ranche." Some unidentified "Native informers," most likely Kaagwaantaan, brought news of a group of hostile Tlingit about to try entering the town. Sitka's brave "civilized" residents locked themselves up in their homes and laid out their guns and ammunition. According to sources cited by Sherwood (ibid.), twentyfive Creole families huddled together at Fr. Mitropol'skii's house. When a dozen or so Kiks.adi men, some of them under the influence, finally approached the stockade, they were turned away not by the town's Euro-American defenders but by Annah60ts and his Kaagwaantaan relatives, one of whom was injured in the skirmish. According to some sources, K'alyaan was not even among the "attackers" but had left for Chilkat just before the skirmish. The "besieged" Sitkans believed that he had gone for reinforcements (Ushin's Diary, February 8-9,1879 in AReA, D 434), but Beardslee subsequently learned that the Kiks.adi leader had actually been trying to pacify his own unruly kinsmen (1882:45-46). In fact, Beardslee (ibid.) seems to offer the most accurate description of what happened that day when he characterizes the "Tlingit attack" on Sitka as a simple brawl between "half a dozen drunken Kaksatis [Kiks.adi] on one side and a large force of Kok-wa-tons [Kaagwaantaan] on the other." He also claims to have learned from some Creole families that K'alyaan had that night sent to their protection some trusty members of his own family and that he himself went to the house of a Euro-American friend to defend him if molested by inebriated Tlingit men. Furthermore, Beardslee (ibid.) describes K'alyaan's conduct during this incident as "brave and intelligent."31 What is clear from all of this is that no serious plans to attack Sitka were ever entertained by the Tlingit, including the deeply offended Kiks.adi. Moreover, the main confrontation appears to have occurred between two rival clans-Sitka's original settlers, whose fortunes had been declining somewhat since their exit from Sitka in 1804, and the ascending Kaagwaantaan, whose elderly leader, Annaxoots, enjoyed much better relations with the Americans than did his much younger rival, K'alyaan. The events leading up to this incident as well as the incident itself demonstrate that while all of the Tlingit were nurturing some serious grievances against the Americans and their demoralized "Russian" allies, Annax60ts's strategy of reconciliation with the Dleit Kaa, which K'alyaan appears to have eventually adopted as well, enjoyed much greater support in the Tlingit community than the direct confrontation that some of the younger Native hotheads were trying to pursue. Despite the peaceful resolution of the crisis, throughout the month of February Sitka's "White" residents and their Tlingit allies conducted nightly vigils and kept guard duty, while a few Kiks.adi continued to pillage the remains of the palisade 200

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(Ushin's Diary in AReA, D 434). While this was going on, Sitka's merchants and some (but not all) of the other Anglo-Americans, as well as many RussianAmericans, sent a petition to the British officials of British Columbia, which was delivered to Her Majesty's warship Osprey, anchored in the vicinity of Victoria. On March 1, 1879, the ship arrived in Sitka, and a day later an American customs ship, revenue cutter Wolcott, also anchored nearby. As Ushin reported (ibid.), Sitka's brave night watchmen were elated and drank heavily to celebrate their "liberation" from the Indian threat. Embarrassed by the international publicity surrounding these events, the U.S. Government finally decided to strengthen its presence in Alaska by dispatching in April of 1879 the USS Jamestown under Captain Beardslee to the Alaska Panhandle. Thus the era of the Navy Rule in Alaska began. The last communication between Fr. Mitropol'skii and the Alaska Ecclesiastical Consistory on the subject of the 1879 "Indian scare" was a petition addressed to him by over thirty of his Russian/Creole parishioners, which he accompanied with the following note: To fulfill the wishes and pleas of my parish members, I am sending to the Consistory the original of the letter of these parishioners to me. In connection with this, I feel obligated to add that our situation here is really critical and, if we are going to be left for some time without protection, the savages could easily threaten our lives. My people and I have already written an appeal to the President of the United States, spelling out the circumstances of these events. Weare also asking the Consistory to support us and intercede on our behalf wherever it is necessary (ARCA, D 432).

The Turning Point: Tlingit Demands for Schools and Churches The greatest irony of Sitka's last "Indian scare" is that while Fr. Mitropol'skii and his American and Russian friends were using the events of early 1879 to portray the Sitka Tlingit as stubborn and hostile savages who had not changed at all from the pre-1867 days, the late 1870S to early 1880s were actually the time of a major turning point in the Tlingit relationship with Euro-Americans, including Christian missionaries. For the first time since the 1840S large numbers of southeastern Alaska Natives were expressing an interest in having Christian preachers live and work among them and schools established in their communities. Most importantly, it was both low-ranking persons seeking to improve their lot and some members of the aristocratic leadership who were making these demands in their encounters with Christian missionaries and educators. Despite the fact that pressure from U.S. Navy officials to "become more civilized" (i.e., more Ameri201

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canized) was clearly playing a role in this new development, the sudden rise in Tlingit interest in Christianity and education was essentially an indigenous movement aimed at helping the Native people adjust to and benefit from the presence of the powerful newcomers. While initially much of this new attention was directed toward the American Presbyterian missions and schools, in Sitka and several other northern Tlingit communities it soon shifted toward the Russian Orthodox Church. This new development began among the Stikine Tlingit who had been aware of the economic benefits brought in the 1860s and 1870S to their southern neighbors, the Tsimshian, by the efforts of a charismatic Anglican missionary, William Duncan, and a Methodist minister, Rev. Thomas Crosby), The prosperity of the Indians at Fort Simpson, as well as the assistance given to them by Rev. Crosby in stemming the tide of the liquor traffic, must have made a significant number of Wrangell's high-ranking leaders and their kin open to the Christian proselytizing of a small group of Tsimshian who came to their town in the spring of 1876 to look for work and were soon conducting regular Sunday services, using Chinook Jargon as well as English. While Rev. Crosby did visit Wrangell in the fall of that year to conduct religious services, the fact that the Tlingit first learned of the Protestant God from another aboriginal people is quite remarkable, supporting my argument that Tlingit Christianization began as a grass-roots movement rather than being forced upon them by the missionaries themselves. The American commandant of Fort Wrangell was sympathetic to the Tsimshian Indians' proselytizing and helped them obtain special quarters for offering Sunday services and religious instruction. The initiative to form the first Protestant Tlingit congregation, however, came from a high-ranking local aristocrat named Toy-a-att (Toyatt?) and several other families. Soon the local Tlingit, as well as several sympathetic local Euro-Americans, took up a subscription to establish a church fund. The list of subscribers also contained the names of several Tlingit from outside of Wrangell, including one person from Sitka (Jackson 1880:133-34). The new faction, labeled "church Indians," was opposed by many of the local Americans (especially liquor smugglers and merchants) as well as by shamans and other skeptical Tlingit, including some clan leaders who saw the church as a threat to traditional ceremonial activities. Several pro-Christian local Euro-Americans reported this surprising development to church officials "down south." The most famous and often-quoted letter describing the Native Christians of Wrangell was penned by a soldier stationed there and was addressed to Major General Howard, asking him to request that a minister be sent to guide them. The letter reveals the pragmatic reasons behind the Wrangell

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Natives' "turn to Jesus," specifically, their determination not to be outdone by their southern neighbors and long-time rivals (ibid.:137).33 The good news about the Stikine "church Indians" finally reached Rev. Sheldon Jackson, an energetic Presbyterian missionary who had been promoting Christianity and American education among the Indian tribes of the Southwest and the Rocky Mountain West. This self-styled "Rocky Mountain Superintendent" shared the basic assumptions of his fellow Presbyterians about the ways of bringing American's "heathen" indigenous inhabitants into the fold of Christianity and American civilization (Stewart 1908; Arctander 1909; Hinckley 1962,1964, 1965, 1966, 1972, 1982, 1996). Before discussing Jackson's and his colleagues' activities in southeastern Alaska, we need to examine briefly the basic assumptions underlying the ideology of the Presbyterian missionaries of the antebellum era. In a recent study of the history of the Presbyterian mission in the American Southwest, Banker (1993:11) points out that, Although the Old World Calvinist legacy had gradually eroded in the American environment, its emphasis on a rigid moral code, social order, and the absolute sovereignty of God remained central to the world-view of most nineteenth-century American Presbyterians. While Presbyterian theology never completely rejected Calvin's emphasis on innate human depravity and predestination, most American Presbyterians by the antebellum era assumed the more optimistic stance that salvation belonged to all who truly believed in Jesus Christ. This outlook, of course, made missions an essential responsibility of the church .... Several Protestant denominations active in American Indian missionary work in the last quarter of the nineteenth century promoted their vision of a righteous American Protestant civilization, in which religion and culture were closely intertwined. As Coleman (1980:43) suggests, These Presbyterians militantly, and at times chauvinistically, espoused such a fusion of their own brand of Protestantism and an idealized American way of life. Though by no means blind to the failings of their nation, especially its mistreatment of the Indians, the missionaries were convinced of the superiority of their republic, at the apex of Western civilization. And all that was impressive in the West-its science, its intellectual achievements, its political institutions, its ascendency over every other civilization past and present-resulted from the civilizing influence of the Gospel (cf. Prucha 1976).

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Like most other evangelicals, Presbyterians came to assume that their nation's cultural and moral standards and ideals were preferred by God and superior to those of other peoples. The most notable traits of their model of Anglo-Protestant civilization were the institutions and ideals of mainstream American society: Protestant churches, public schools, a codified system of laws, private property, hard work, monogamous marriage, patriarchal families, and the Christian Sabbath. Also included were more incidental aspects of Anglo-American physical culture, such as Western clothing and standards of hygiene; permanent, single-family dwellings; modern farming implements and techniques; and the latest conveniences and technological advancements (Banker 1993:12). Presbyterian missionaries firmly believed in the need to combine religious instructions with secular teaching and indoctrinating the Indians with the values of American civilization. The education of the young-America's Indian citizens of tomorrow-was seen by them as a priority. Having accepted the Presbyterian model of ChristianAmerican civilization, the Indians were supposed to eventually loose their distinct ethnic identity and become citizens of Christian society (Coleman 1980:44; cf. Prucha 1976; Berkhofer 1978). The missionary impulse, the notion of their sacred duty to carry this Americanized Gospel to the heathen, especially at home, was very strong in this religious tradition. In the first six decades of its existence (1837-93) the Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America sent more than four hundred missionaries to at least seventeen diverse Indian tribes. "Convinced of the absolute superiority of their Christian civilization, these missionaries relentlessly denounced the ways of the Indians" (Coleman 1980:41). Nineteenth-century Presbyterian missionaries tended to condemn all or most of the ways of the Indians they came in contact with-from their kinship and political systems to their sexual mores, work habits, and styles of clothing. In Coleman's words, "Confronting this heathenism, the missionaries could envision no compromise, no syncretism, no expression of Christian truths through Indian forms. The regeneration of the soul demanded total rejection of the contaminating past. Misguided Indians who clung to the old ways not only risked their own immortal souls. They were a threat to their peoples, whose one hope of physical survival was to speedily accept the Christian civilization" (ibid.:46). This attitude explains the Presbyterians' opposition to reservations as obstacles in the work of bringing the Native American into the family of United States citizens. While negative about the Indian peoples' traditional culture, nineteenthcentury Presbyterians were not racists. They firmly believed that deep down all human beings were the same and that any rational and responsible individual could be regenerated through Christianity. They were also convinced that by 20 4

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accepting Christian-American civilization the Indian would eventually become equal to America's White citizens and become a citizen himself; hence they differed from many of their American contemporaries, especially secular frontiersmen. In fact, Presbyterian missionaries often favorably compared "their own Indians» -especially mission-educated ones-to Euro-Americans (see Coleman 1980,1985). As Coleman (1980:46) argues, the ultimate goal of these missionaries was the establishment of self-sustaining Indian churches under Indian ministers and elders. However, in the initial period Indian converts were supposed to be under the heavy and paternalistic control of a Euro-American minister/teacher. The Presbyterian missionaries also attempted to isolate Christian Indians from the corruptions of secular modern American life, even though their ultimate goal was to integrate them into the mainstream of American life and assimilate them. In 1877 Sheldon Jackson and Amanda McFarland visited Wrangell and witnessed the amazing church services and religious classes run by Clah (Philip McKay), a Fort Simpson Tsimshian, in different Native homes. Several local American residents told Jackson that the Indians "were crazy to learn» to speak, read, and write English. McFarland stayed in Wrangell to assist the local Christian Tlingit who soon lost their Tsimshian lay preacher after he had succumbed to tuberculosis. This brave and rather authoritarian missionary acted as the local teacher as well as peacemaker and judge, trying to prevent open confrontations between the pro- and anti-Christian factions, which might have reflected different views on the future of Tlingit survival in American-dominated Alaska but might also have had their roots in some earlier interclan and interlineage disputes (see McFarland's letters in Anderson 1956). The pro-Christian aristocrats and leaders told McFarland that they were anxious to have "a white man preacher come» and establish a "church house like Fort Simpson» (Jackson 1880:142-51; Anderson 1956). Soon dignitaries from other Tlingit communities began visiting her and asking to have a school established among them. Jackson, in the meantime, returned home to raise money for the new Presbyterian outpost-an activity he was very good at. He publicized Amanda McFarland's heroic struggle on the wild frontier in lectures, personal solicitations, and his own newspaper, The Rocky Mountain Presbyterian. Throughout the early 1880s he appeared before hundreds of groups delivering short talks and longer lectures on the horrible heathen customs of Alaska's Natives and the heroic labors of early missionaries.34 In the latter part ofI878 Jackson sent the young Rev. S. H. Young to become the first official Presbyterian minister among the Tlingit (Hinckley 1968). Young shared fully Jackson's agenda of combining Christianizing the Panhandle's Natives with Americanizing them. Reminiscing thirty-five years later about his early 20 5

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days in Wrangell, he even failed to mention that he came to turn the Tlingit to Christian God; instead, he simply says that he went to Alaska "to do what I could towards establishing the white man's civilization among the Thlinget [sic] Indians" (Young 1915:11). Convinced that he was on a divinely inspired mission, Young, with the help of Amanda McFarland and the active core of the "Christian faction," including several aristocratic leaders, proceeded to implement his "civilizing" program. He began by encouraging his followers in very strong terms to establish a new Native Christian community in Wrangell with its own set of rules, including the abolition of interpersonal and interfamilial quarreling, and giving to the missionary and the leading Christian Indians the right to search for liquor in the homes of other community members. Violators of these and other rules were to be fined by "chief" Toyatt, the Native leader of that new community, while Young and McFarland were to retain the right to appoint future leaders (Jackson 1880:168). In 1879, in the presence of several visiting Presbyterian dignitaries and Sheldon Jackson himself, the Wrangell Presbyterian Church was established, with eighteen Native and five Euro-American members. That same year Amanda McFarland started a Girls' Industrial Home for young Indian women whose purpose was to educate and Christianize them as well as to protect them from abuse by Euro-American frontiersmen. In order to solidify his support among the Native Christians and discourage other Tlingit from opposing him, Young (1927:141) did not hesitate to portray himself as a powerful representative of the American government, backed by the Navy.3 5 While Young's paternalism undoubtedly offended some of the Tlingit (especially the aristocracy), his "strong talk," which these people had always respected, as well as real ties with the Naval administration of Alaska (see below), must have also contributed to his growing influence in the Native community and the gradual increase in the size of his congregation.36 However, it would be simplistic to attribute Tlingit "conversion" to Presbyterianism simply to the fear of the gunboats. Although it is difficult to establish the rank and social status of the first converts, it appears that at least some of them were persons of low rank who must have looked to the mission as a source of power and wealth that they lacked within their own community. This was particularly true of many of the students of McFarland's Home, who tended to be former slaves, victims of witchcraft accusations, and low-ranking women who had been living with EuroAmerican men)? Others, however, were clearly high-ranking lineage and clan leaders who saw the American missionaries as important allies capable of "delivering new goods" and especially new knowledge, badly needed by their people in

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this "brave new world." Once a lineage or clan leader took a step in the direction of the missionaries, his matrikin tended to follow. The Presbyterians themselves realized that this desire to partake of the White man's power and knowledge was the major motivating force in the "miraculous" change of heart they were witnessing. Thus Rev. Lindsley (1965[1881]:62) commented after witnessing the official establishment of the Wrangell church that most of the local Indians were anxious to adopt American material culture and ways, with the exception of some of the chiefs. However, even the latter were "fully impressed with the necessity of education in order to save themselves and their people .... Vaguely, but certainly, they see that the 'whites' possess powers which they do not, advantages that they covet and which they believe may be acquired by themselves." As one pro-mission Wrangell leader told him, "Your people are prosperous and strong. I want my people to be the same" (ibid.:25). Krause, a German natural scientist who observed several Presbyterian Tlingit missions in the early 1880s, expressed a similar idea when he stated that the Indians' requests for teachers, schools, and churches was motivated by their "ambition to imitate the white man" (1956:230). Sometimes, as he noted, the new converts' reasoning was very practical and direct. Krause used an example of the Chilkat Tlingit, who encountered the Presbyterians in 1881 when a missionary station and school were established in the territory. "After they had gone to church for half a year and sent their children to school, the Chilkat went to the missionary and complained that they had not been rewarded for their virtue and had not received boards to build their houses as the Tsimshian did" (ibid.). At other times the converts expected to obtain more long-term rewards for their willingness to come to church and send their children to school. At least some of them must have begun to wonder whether the Waashdan Kwaan's material wealth and military might be somehow connected to their possession of spiritual power contained in their sacred books and prayers. After all, in the Tlingit culture, spiritual wealth and power were seen as major sources of material prosperity, good fortune, and high status. While the Tlingit had been showing a desire to appropriate the Dleit Kaa's technology for over a decade, with the coming of the Presbyterian missionaries they encountered the first group of Euro-Americans who expressed a strong interest in helping them. In contrast to liquor merchants and various frontier types who simultaneously despised the Tlingit and tried their best to profit from trading with them, the missionaries appeared genuinely friendly and somewhat more "respectful." Forceful and often eloquent sermons enthusiastically delivered by Young and other missionaries must have made an impression on the Tlingit audiences-after all, the Presbyteri-

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ans were the first group of Americans willing to take their time to explain their own religion (Dleit Kaa lsusteeyi) to their Tlingit audiences.38 Even the more conservative aristocratic leaders, who were worried that participation in church activities and ceremonies would undermine traditional Tlingit spirituality and ceremonial life (the foundation of the sociopolitical order), were beginning to see the potential benefits of Presbyterian education. One of them was "chief Shustak," a strong opponent of the early Presbyterian missionaries in Wrangell, who once told McFarland that he was not afraid of going to hell since all of his relatives were already there, expressed the change in their view most eloquently (Anderson 1956:227-28). In an eloquent speech addressed to the visiting Presbyterian leadership during their stay in Wrangell in 1879, he emphasized his new appreciation for American education as well as his remaining strong conviction that the Tlingit were not to give up their own religious practices, so as not to loose their legitimate claims to their ancestral land. Such sentiment was undoubtedly shared by many other Tlingit aristocrats and their kin who, contrary to the Presbyterians' expectations, were not willing to equate joining the church with abandoning Lingit kusteeyi.3 9 While the Presbyterians, in their work in Wrangell and elsewhere in Tlingit country, were determined to control their Native congregants, the Tlingit were clearly trying to establish the same kind of reciprocal and mutually respectful relations with their new allies that they had maintained with the British, the Americans, and especially the Russians prior to 1867. Determined not to end up in the position of passive recipients inferior to their benefactors, they used oratory, gift-giving, and feasting of their new allies to establish relationships of equal and reciprocal exchange. This effort was best exemplified by a ceremonial adoption of Jackson, Young, and other Presbyterian visitors during the festivities accompanying the official establishment of the Wrangell Presbyterian Church in 1879 (see Jackson 1880:104-14, 234-39; Muir 1988 [1915]:28-30). This feast, which had certain elements of a traditional potlatch, was organized by the leading aristocratic converts to Presbyterianism who, unlike Shustak, did not insist on hanging on to their traditional ceremonies, at least in their speeches addressed to the missionaries. In fact they performed traditional songs and dances during the feast ostensibly as entertainment for their honored American guests as well as a demonstration of how they used to live before they became Christian. The guests were shown traditional clan regalia and old weapons and promised that this was the last time they would be displayed. Of course in later years such promises were made repeatedly to the missionaries, only to be broken time and again. To underscore their abandonment of the "old ways" and their willingness to "imitate the White Man" the Native hosts seated their guests at tables and offered 208

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them store-bought food only. Such banquets, called "White Man's style feasts," soon became popular throughout southeastern Alaska, with Tlingit groups offering them to each other. To further stress their desire for Americanizing the material aspect of their way of life, one of the hosts apologized to the missionaries, saying, "I am sorry you sit in this old-fashioned Indian house. When you come back again we will have a new American house for you." In this case, the promise made was soon fulfilled, when wealthy Stikines, Sitkans, and eventually residents of other Tlingit communities began replacing traditional winter houses with large American-style homes and furnishing them with the latest storebought furniture, gadgets, and decorations. Unfortunately, the Presbyterians did not fully understand the meaning of this ceremony and/or were unwilling to treat their hosts as true equals. While they did bring some new goods to the Native converts and tried in certain contexts to intercede on their behalf with the secular authorities, they basically followed their own script which called for a much more radical transformation of Tlingit culture than most of the new Christians had ever envisioned. For the moment, however, Jackson, Young, and others were happy to oblige their hosts by reciprocating with words of thanks anq prayers aimed at sending God's blessing on all of the people present at the "new-style potlatch." Although the development of the Presbyterian mission in Wrangell and the larger history of Christianity among the southern Tlingit are beyond the scope of this study, it is important to discuss the mission's beginnings because it stimulated other Tlingit communities further north to begin asking the Presbyterians for schools and preachers. Just as the Stikines were anxious to have access to the same new material resources, patronage, and knowledge that their Tsimshian neighbors and old-time rivals had already acquired, the Tlingit of other kwaans could not tolerate the fact that their old rivals in Wrangell were establishing special relationships with the powerful newcomers that they themselves lacked. Soon after Young established himself in Wrangell, delegates from other Tlingit communities began coming to him with requests for visits and the eventual establishment of schools and missions in their own territories. In response to such requests, Young decided to go on an extensive canoe trip throughout the Inside Passage (Young 1915; Muir 1988). While somewhat reluctant to venture into enemy territory, Toyatt and other leading Stikine Presbyterians were interested in acting as missionaries themselves. I suspect that their desire to spread the word of God to their "heathen" brethren in Kake, Chilkat, and other Kwaans was only part of the story. Equally important must have been their desire to demonstrate their power and superiority based on their newly acquired knowledge and on their alliance with the 209

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missionaries to their former rivals. With the exception of those few communities where people were busy making or consuming home-brew, most of the villages visited by Young and Muir expressed their interest in following the example of the Stikines. Muir, who had some reservations about the entire missionary enterprise and was more realistic in assessing the reason behind the Indians' enthusiasm about the missionary message, gave the following summary of their response to Young's sermons and to his Native Christians' praying and singing of hymns: "With but one or two exceptions, all with apparent good faith declared their willingness to receive them [the visitors], and many seemed heartily delighted at the prospect of gaining light on subjects so important and so dark to them. All had heard of the wonderful work of Reverend Mr. Duncan at Metlakatla, and even those chiefs who were not at all inclined to anything like piety were yet anxious to procure schools and churches, so that their people should not miss the temporal advantages of knowledge, which with their natural shrewdness they were not slow to recognize" (1988:105). This missionary trip also demonstrated that while most Tlingit people outside of Wrangell and Sitka were only vaguely familiar with the Christian message, they were already beginning to accept the notion that the God of the Americans was a powerful one and could be appealed to for help. They might also have been combining new information about this God with their own indigenous concepts of a superior spirit or deity, continuing the process of strengthening the monotheistic theme in their pre-Christian worldview, which had begun in Sitka under the influence of the exposure to the Orthodox Church (see chapter 4). Thus Young and his Tlingit companions were asked on several occasions to pray for their hosts, although the reasons for such prayers were not exactly the kind that a missionary would approve. Once, for example, following a very cordial meeting with the Chilkat people, Young's party learned that the former were about to visit the X60tsnoowu people to collect blankets and indemnity money for the death of one of their own women who had drunk whiskey furnished by a member of that kwaan. If the X60tsnoowu people refused to pay, there was bound to be a big fight, so one of the Chilkat leaders begged the visitors to "pray them good luck, so that no one would be killed"; the man did promise that his party would try to avoid bloodshed if possible (Muir 1988[1915b43). Another Chilkat leader complained to the visiting Presbyterians that some Tsimshian from Fort Simpson, sent out on a missionary tour by Reverend Crosby, had made him a "good luck board" and nailed it over his door, but now wanted to take it away. The two-foot-Iong board bore the following inscription apparently in English and Chinook, "The Lord will bless those who do his will. When you rise in the morning, and when you retire at night, give him thanks." Young 210

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promised to make the man a new board if he would stop making home-brew (ibid.:134). The custom of having boards and plaques affixed to the front of the house, bearing English-language blessings or praises for its head and his kin, was becoming very popular among the Tlingit. These objects seemed to have the same function as the written certificates and other documents which the RAe had been giving to Tlingit leaders and which Americans began to distribute among them after 1867. Their recipients seemed to perceive them as signs of their special ties with the powerful Dleit Kaa allies which any American could read, as well as a kind of exotic treasure aimed at impressing their own people. Before returning to Sitka and the Tlingit-Presbyterian interaction that was taking place there in the late 1870S and early 1880s, I must mention that despite the Wrangell Indians' strong interest in schools and churches, Rev. Young had to overcome considerable resistance from some Native leaders and their kin before he managed to draw most of the town's Tlingit inhabitants into his sphere of influence. Particularly unpopular with some Indians were his destruction of stills for making home-brew and the protection he offered to victims of witchcraft accusations (Young 1927). Most important, his reliance on Tlingit Christians to combat the making of home-brew and his verbal attacks on those who remained outside his mission offended the more conservative leaders and contributed to the persistence and even growth of factionalism within the community. In addition, Young's temperance campaign pitted his own congregation against visiting groups of Tlingit, thus sometimes reviving old disputes and enmities and leading to bloodshed. A wave of witchcraft accusations sweeping the community in 1878 and extending beyond its borders in which, according to Young's estimate, over one hundred accused witches lost their lives, appears to be an indication of serious divisions within the local community, precipitated by an especially close relationship with the missionaries that some of the Stikine people were establishing at the time. After all, jealousy had always been a major cause of witchcraft accusations. The fact that low-caste individuals were present among the first and most zealous converts could not fail to stimulate further witchcraft accusations. Finally, a few of the most devoted new Presbyterians appear to have followed through on their promise to stay away from traditional funerals and memorial feasts as well as other key ceremonies, thus offending the organizers of these activities and contributing further to tensions and feuds. In a few years this situation was to repeat itself in Sitka.

Presbyterians Come to Sitka On March 17 of the year that Young landed in Wrangell, another Presbyterian minister and a protege of Sheldon Jackson arrived in Alaska's capital. He was a 211

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thirty-year-old graduate of the Union Theological Seminary named John G. Brady. He invited a group of local Tlingit to hear his sermon in which he spoke of the God of the Christians "who made the mountains, the sea, and made also the Indian, Chinese, white men and all men," sang a couple of Christian hymns, and promised to build a school with the help of Native carpenters. In his speech the young missionary, who was both pious and practical, emphasized the advantages the Tlingit would have if they learned English. As Brady put it in his letter to Jackson, he "centered everything upon the Bible, and tried to impress upon their minds its value to all men, because it is God speaking to us when we read it" (Jackson 1880:206; cf. Hinckley 1982:31-33).40 Not surprisingly, Annax60ts, the aging aristocrat appointed by the Army five years earlier to serve as Sitka's "head chief," was among Brady's most prominent listeners. So was a wealthy and upwardly mobile local man of fairly high rank, famous for his extensive trade with the Americans as well as trading expeditions to various Tlingit communities, known to the Euro-Americans as Sitka Jack or Captain Jack. 41 During the previous year he had sponsored a big potlatch to celebrate the construction of his new house which was built in the "White Man's style" (Kan 1979-95). The two men clearly acted as leading spokesmen for the group gathered to hear Brady. That they had already established special ties with the local American authorities and had been acting as intermediaries between them and their own clan relatives was indicated by the fact that they were the only ones wearing shoes and old naval officer suits; the rest of the Tlingit were barefoot and bore crest designs on their faces. In fact, Annax60ts had been known to the Americans for his expressions of support for having schools established among his people. According to General Howard (1907:302), the old Kaagwaantaan leader had once told him, "I have spent sleepless nights thinking for the interest of my people. I want a good teacher; I will build him a school." In a letter to Jackson, dated March 18, 1878, Brady (PHS; RG 239, b. 2, f. 14; cf. Hinckley 1982:33) wrote that all of the Indian spokesmen expressed their happiness about his proposal and especially the promise to build a school and send teachers to instruct their children. In fact, according to Brady, they had been asking for a school for some time. This letter as well as an entry in Brady's diary (Brady Collection, Beinecke Library, Yale University) indicate that the Tlingit complained to him about the Russians who had once paid attention to them but then abandoned them. According to their statements, since the Americans had bought Alaska, no Russian priest visited them and they felt offended and neglected. They were also displeased by the earlier promises to send missionaries made to them by American Army officers which never materialized. Sitka Jack, whom the Navy officers regarded as "the biggest rascal on the coast," made a 212

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special gesture of friendship aimed at solidifying his alliance with Brady by signing a pledge to stop drinking and immediately began to call himself a Christian (Jackson 1880:212). Following this important first encounter with the Sitkan Tlingit, Brady made a trip to Wrangell where he continued his proselytizing. In April of the same year he came back and hired some Native carpenters to prepare rooms on the upper floor of the old Russian army barracks for Presbyterian church services and the Native school. The school opened on April 17 "with about fifty [Tlingitl of all ages and sexes present" (Hinckley 1982:36). By that time Brady had been joined by Fannie Kellogg (the niece of Reverend Lindsley and the future wife of Reverend Young) who became the school's first teacher. In the spirit of ecumenical tolerance Fr. Mitropol'skii loaned the school an old blackboard. The school's main textbook was the Bible, so that religious and secular instruction were closely intertwined. Adults as well as youngsters attended. Divine services on Sundays, run by Brady, were also well attended, with Tlingit as well as some Euro-Americans participating. Some of the services drew over 300 Natives. Soon the "wild Kolosh," whom the local Russians/Creoles were expecting to raid the town, were walking around singing Christian hymns (ibid.). Within a month many Tlingit youngsters, eager to learn the language of the Waashdan Kwaan, had already made amazing progress. Brady reported to Jackson that some of them met on Sitka streets or in stores to review the English alphabet or sing religious hymns they had just learned. When Kellogg jestingly told them that they could not become good Americans until they learned to whistle "Yankee Doodle," they begin practicing the whistling all around town (Hinckley 1982:37). However, by the summer of 1878 the school's novelty wore off and attendance began to decline-many of the older students joined their parents in various subsistence activities or obtained work in the cannery. Through Brady's efforts, Sitka was beginning to be the major center of Presbyterian proselytizing and was attracting the attention of the neighboring Tlingit communities, just as Wrangell had, as long as Young was willing to make his missionary trips up north. Brady's trip to Hoonah and his presentation there were particularly interesting. Equipped with a slide projector, he showed illustrations of the New Testament which were very popular with the local people, particularly the miraculous raising of Lazarus and Jesus' walking on water. The Hoonah people, including several leading aristocrats, were happy to see Brady and told him that they knew about the missionaries' activities in Sitka. As he wrote, "They said that they had been told that there is a God and they believed there was one but they knew very little about him. They would be very happy to have someone come and teach them what is right and what they should do." 213

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They did want their children to go to school and promised to help build the schoolhouse but were worried that their children would not be able to learn as well as the ones in Sitka who were living close to numerous White people (MS in Brady Collection, Beinecke Library, Yale University). Once again, intervillage rivalry and jealousy were stimulating the growth of the Tlingit interest in the missionary enterpriseY Emboldened by this friendly reception, Brady delivered a much more forceful lecture against the "old customs" than the one he had given the Sitkans during their first encounter-he attacked witchcraft and shamanism as well as gambling, drinking, and "licentiousness." The missionary's energetic preaching during a visit to the Chilkat people was received with equal curiosity. According to his letter, the Chilkats "filled the house of the chief, where we spoke, to suffocation and some who could not get in climbed upon the roof and listened through the aperture. . . enduring the cold for two hours at a time rather than miss any of the message" (Hinckley 1982:37-38). By the end of that year Brady decided to leave Alaska to recruit additional missionaries and teachers in the East and publicize the plight of the Tlingit with the Presbyterian establishment. He had already begun formulating his view of the Tlingit, which continued to guide his various activities in southeastern Alaska for the rest of his life. While his condemnation of the various "savage" customs of the Panhandle's inhabitants was close to the standard Presbyterian view of Indian culture, he did stress some important positive attributes of Tlingit values and ways ofliving which he saw as a foundation upon which their Christianization and especially their Americanization could be based. Like Young, Jackson, and especially the sympathetic Navy commanders of the time, as well as their Russian predecessors, Brady praised Tlingit industriousness and their outstanding ability to accumulate wealth, and correctly identified these qualities as a major link between them and the enterprising newcomers to Alaska. In fact, in a few years Brady began systematically arguing in print and in his private letters to Jackson and other Presbyterians that southeastern Alaska Indians were very different from those of the American West-they were more industrious and more sedentary (and thus presumably higher on the evolutionary ladder) and were much friendlier to the Americans than the Sioux or the Nez Perce. To underscore this difference, he and Jackson began referring to the Tlingit, Haida, and Tsimshian as "Alaska Natives" rather than "Indians" (cf. Jackson 1880). They also began to make a strong case for not having reservations established in the Alaska Panhandle, arguing that segregation only held the Natives back, preserving their backward customs and slowing down the process of their incorporation and eventual assimilation into the mainstream of the American society (cf. Hinckley 1982). While opposing reservations, Brady, like his fellow missionaries, 214

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was extremely concerned about the evil influence of the "bad Whites" on the Alaska Natives. In his earliest letters from Alaska he stated that if only the mission could separate the Tlingit from the Whites, they would make much greater progress-their "old customs" were just as detrimental to their progress as the making and consumption of liquor and cohabitation between Native women and American men (PHS, RG 239, b. 2, f. 14). Given Brady's record as a life-long advocate of equal economic and political rights for the Alaska Natives, it is difficult to doubt the sincerity of his concern for their well-being. At the same time, for him and many other Presbyterian reformers and educators, Tlingit progress also meant increased business opportunities for Alaska's rising Euro-American population, especially merchants and cannery and mine operators. Thus he argued in one of his public lectures that Christian Indians would inevitably want to have their own homes, "where they could have the privacy of family life .... To meet this increased expense the Indians ... must be put in the way of earning more money. To Christianize the Indians without helping them to learn new industries and new methods of earning money is to impoverish them and make them more wretched. The work of the church is only half done in giving them the gospel; she must also assist them in their effort to live a Christian life" (Hinckley 1982:67). It is no accident that Brady himself quickly turned from the pulpit to commerce and eventually to politics, although he continued to preach "Christian living" to the Tlingit throughout his entire life (see Hinckley 1982). A number of other Presbyterian missionaries and teachers were either former businessmen or combined proselytizing among the Alaska Natives with various business ventures. After all, honest money-making and Christian devotion were seen by many late nineteenthcentury American Protestants as interconnected. For them, educated Christian Indians made more obedient workers and spent more money in the stores, like the one operated by Brady in Sitka. Brady came back to Sitka in the spring of 1879, having just missed the excitement of the recent "Indian scare." He brought with him from New York a fellow Presbyterian and a businessman-turned-street-missionary named Alonzo E. Austin. With the help of his wife and daughters, Austin revived the Native and the White schools, which had stopped operating in Sitka after Brady's and Kellogg's departure. While he worked with the Tlingit boys, his oldest daughter, hired by the Board of Home Missions, instructed Native girls in sewing. A high-ranking Tlingit woman and a member of the Russian Church, married to an American, known to us only as "Mrs. Hollywood," acted as interpreter (Beardslee 1882:56).43 In addition to daytime Native students, seven Tlingit boys began spending the night at the school. According to Austin (1892; cf. Hinckley 1982:58) as well as one 21 5

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of these students (Wells, n.d.), these teenagers volunteered to stay at the school because drinking, ceremonies, and other distractions at home prevented them from doing their homework. While, according to the data I collected, some of these youngsters were oflow rank (Kan 1979-95), at least several of the boys were high-ranking aristocrats who were being groomed to replace their maternal uncles as the heads of their lineages and clans. One of them was William Wells (Kaads'aati), a high-ranking L'uknax.adi, descendent of a line of Dry Bay headmen, who had experienced the traditional upbringing required for a young aristocratic male destined to become a future lineage or clan head. His father was Russian Orthodox and had worked for the RAe as a seaman. According to Wells' later writings (ibid.), the Russian priest, working through William's relatives, tried to bring him back into the Church, promising high honors, but he was never interested. He claimed that what had turned him against the Russian Church was its tolerance for Native drinking. This may have been the case, although it could also be a reflection of the prevailing Presbyterian criticism of the Orthodox which he must have accepted in his adulthood (see below). Wells, born in 1867, attended Brady's first meeting with the Sitka Tlingit and continued going to his services and classes thereafter. Another high-ranking fellow student was Rudolph Walton (1868/69-1951) (Kaawootk'), a Kiks.adi youngster of similar age. Unhappy with Tlingit parents' frequent removal of their children from the school for long fishing and hunting expeditions, as well as for "wild heathen ceremonies," Austin welcomed the seven boys' decision to live at the schoo!. He wrote that this removed them "from the environment of filth, vice, and crime" and improved school attendance (Austin 1892). It is plausible that he had actually put some pressure on them to take that major step; however, without the boys' desire to do so and their parents' consent, it would not have happened. This small group of young aristocrats, anxious to excel in learning the White Man's language, may have been more ambitious than their fellow-aanyatx'i. However, it is also possible that for some psychological or specific historical reasons (e.g., Wells' family's involvement with the Orthodox Church) some of them were more willing to accept the Presbyterians' rigid formula of "Christian civilization" than others.44 By June of 1880 the Presbyterian-run school had over 100 Native students and was a combination of day and boarding schoo!. In 1881 Austin was appointed the official superintendent of the boarding school while his wife became its matron. Thanks to Sheldon Jackson's efforts, the financial assistance from the Board of the Home Mission continued to flow and increase. In December of 1881 there were about 30 boarding school and 120 day school students attending the Presby216

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terian school (Krause 1993:113). In early 1882 the old school located in the former Russian hospital building next to the Orthodox bishop's house burned down. When Austin asked his older male students how many of them wished to continue to attend the boarding school, 24 of them stood up. By now aristocrats like Wells and Walton were studying together with low-ranking boys and even former slaves such as Moses Jamestown, an orphan from the X60tsnoowu area who had been forced by his lineage mates to serve as their domestic slave until he was rescued by the crew of the USS Jamestown (Emmons 1991:41; Kan 1979-95). For a while Austin's boys had to sleep in an old stable and endure insults from the "Russian" boys who called them "cows," to which the young Presbyterians allegedly replied that Christ himself was born in a stable (Wells n.d.). That same year Brady, who since his return to Sitka made his living as a merchant, donated a large piece of land, which he had claimed east of the "Russian town" in 1879,45 to have a new building erected for what was now known as the Sheldon Jackson Institute, the Sitka Industrial School, or the Sitka Training Schoo1. 46 After the boarding school for Native girls in Wrangell burned down in 1883, its students were brought to Sitka, and the "Industrial School" became coeducational. When Alaska officially became a Territory in 1884 federal money allotted by the Organic Act became available for educating Alaska children regardless of race; the Sitka Training School was among the institutions supported from Washington. Sheldon Jackson's assuming the position of general agent for education in Alaska in 1885 helped divert government money to a religious school which began to operate under contract with the u.S. government. In March of 1885 the school had 42 boys and 61 girls; by the end of that year the numbers increased to 47 boys and 90 girls. Sixty of the 137 students came from Sitka, with boys slightly outnumbering girls. The other Tlingit communities, however, sent more girls than boys. This may have reflected a lingering suspicion of the Sitka kwaan harbored by other Tlingit communities in the north and especially the south: they did not wish their youngsters to reside in the territory of their former enemies, with whom feuding was still going on. By now many of the students from outside of Sitka were orphans and rescued slaves, which made the aristocracy particularly reluctant to part with their future successors and have them study and especially live in the same building with people from the very bottom or outside of the traditional social order (Annual Report of the Governor of Alaska for 1886:24; Kan 1979-95). In the 1880s the boarding school as a major tool for controlling and civilizing Indian youngsters was becoming increasing popular in Presbyterian (and other Protestant) missions throughout the United States (see, e.g., Banker 1993:123). In Sitka too the Presbyterian school was gradually establishing itself as the center of 217

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Presbyterian proselytizing within the Tlingit community and, most importantly, as a "totalizing" institution aimed at molding a new type of Indian people and controlling them (see Goffman 1961; Foucault 1975, 1979). Tlingit parents could hardly have anticipated what lay in store for their young when they agreed to turn them over to the school and signed papers to that effect. The Presbyterian missionaries/educators did fulfill one of the promises they had made to the Sitka Tlingit-they did give their students first-rate education in the "three Rs." In fact, Wells, Walton and their fellow students became the first generation of Tlingit men and women who were fluent English speakers, readers, and writers. Thus in the early 1880s the young Wells was already serving as an interpreter during Presbyterian services attended by Tlingit-speaking adults from the Sitka village. When Austin's first students became adults, this knowledge obviously became an asset, helping some of them to make a better living in the changing Alaska environment and providing others with the discourse needed to fight for their people's civil and economic rights (see below). The Sitka Training School also emphasized instruction in practical subjects and trades which were supposed to help its male graduates find jobs no longer tied to the subsistence economy and to enable its female ones to become exemplary Victorian homemakers. Along with this "industrial" training came instruction in Euro-American hygiene and the general style of everyday conduct. More subtle, but equally if not more thorough, was the inculcation of Tlingit boys and girls with middle-class American gender roles which were quite different from the traditional Tlingit ones. Sheldon Jackson expressed this ambitious educational program very clearly in one of his reports, describing its objectives as follows: to instruct a people, the greater portion of whom are uncivilized, who need to be taught sanitary regulations, the laws of health, improvement of dwellings, better methods of housekeeping, cooking, and dressing, more remunerative forms of labor, honesty, chastity, the sacredness of the marriage relation, and everything that elevates man. So that side by side with the usual drill in reading, writing, and arithmetic, there is need of instructiori for the girls in housekeeping, cooking, and gardening, sewing, and mending; and for the boys in carpentry and other forms of wood working, boot and shoe making, and the various trades of civilization (Report on Education in Alaska, 1886:22).

Again, while one could argue that many of the practical skills and trades taught by the Presbyterians turned out to be useful to their students in their later life, there was also a strong ethnocentric and paternalistic reasoning behind it.47 218

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On the one hand, it assumed that the Tlingit could not learn many of these skills and trades on their own. In fact, just the opposite was happening-many Tlingit women, who never went to the Presbyterian school, excelled in sewing and other activities that helped them take care of their families' changing needs and make a good profit such as selling beaded artifacts to visiting tourists. Similarly, many Tlingit men learned various Dieit Ktia activities and trades by watching EuroAmericans perform them and then trying them out themselves. The idea that Tlingit homes were extremely dirty and unsanitary was also an exaggerationthese dwelling may not have made Victorian Americans comfortable, but their inhabitants did subscribe to their own rigid ethics of physical purity. For Austin and his colleagues Tlingit domestic life was an example of extreme savagery. In his reminiscences about the Industrial School's early days, Austin (1892) wrote that his Tlingit students "were like little animals, needing to be taught everything, even to dress, walk, and eat, and had no idea of cleanliness."48 On the other hand, this "civilizing" agenda was based on the notion that the Tlingit economy and society were inferior to those of the Christian Euro-Americans. In fact, in their classroom instruction and in their sermons the Presbyterian educators explicitly as well as more subtly condemned almost the entire Tlingit way oflife-in effect telling the young Natives that their older relatives' "old customs" (a favorite Presbyterian term) and backward ways were so inimical to Tlingit progress that they had to be abandoned or thoroughly modified. This included not only such obvious candidates for missionary wrath as shamanism, slavery, beliefs in witchcraft, and memorial feasts and potlatches, but such fundamental elements of the indigenous sociopolitical order as matrilineal descent and inheritance, as well as the common residence of large groups of kin in a single winter house. In fact, by spending at least five years at the boarding school (as their parents' contracts stipulated), the students were supposed to be weaned away from, what Brady called, the "debilitating effects of Ranche life" (Hinckley 1982:58) and impressed with the idea of the nuclear family's superiority over a lineage- and clan-based mode ofliving. In addition to trying to convince their students that fishing and hunting (which continued to be the foundation of the Tlingit economy) were inferior to American trades and agriculture (!),49 the Presbyterian missionaries struck at the very core of Tlingit culture by interfering with the process of child socialization and thus undercutting intergenerational continuity, a prerequisite for the reproduction of any society. Although a number of the students rejected this program and engaged in various forms of resistance, many of them gradually internalized some of its basic premises. In the early 1880s a number of the older boys in the boarding school 21 9

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were already talking about wanting to marry a "clean" girl who would "know books and housekeeping like a Boston girl" (Willard 1884:277-78). Of course, girls of this kind could be found only among the school's students. In fact, as their older students approached the age of graduation and adulthood, the missionaries began strongly encouraging them to intermarry, disregarding traditional principles of moiety exogamy and rank parity. This resulted in a number of intramoiety marriages or unions that brought together men and women of different rank. Only some of the early graduates managed to find spouses that their clans approved (Kan 1979-95).50 At the same time, the missionaries not only strongly discouraged their highranking students from marrying their recently deceased maternal uncles' widows but physically protected them from being forced into such marriages. Since for an aspiring young aristocrat the act of marrying his senior matrilineal relative's widow was one of the prerequisites for assuming the deceased's ceremonial title(s) and position within the matrilineal group, the missionaries were thus contributing to the removal of a number of prominent young Sitka aanyat'xi from leadership positions in the traditional social hierarchy and active participation in the life of their lineages and clans. This, in turn, led to a significant decline in the status of these young Tlingit men and, to some extent, of the women as well. When William Wells' maternal uncle died in 1882-83, Rev. Austin did allow him to visit the house where the body lay in state to show his respect, but when the young man refused to obey his matrikin, who were encouraging him to inherit the dead man's widow and high position in the clan, the Presbyterians told him to stay away from the "Ranche" for one month (Wells n.d.). The decision not to become his lineage's next head was Wells' own; he also mentions that his own parents did not encourage him to do that. But the mission gave him an opportunity to drop out of social roles he no longer found meaningful. Similarly, according to missionary sources, the sixteen-year-old Rudolph Walton refused to marry his maternal uncle's widow, even though that was the only way for him to inherit the dead man's property (Willard 1884:278). On other occasions, the Presbyterians either forcefully prevented or strongly discouraged their students from attending memorial potlatches and other traditional ceremonies which not only served as one of the main opportunities for the young men and women to learn about ceremonial protocol and perform ancestral songs and dances but were the only contexts in which names/titles could be bestowed upon them. Although this did not prevent some of the young Tlingit from receiving these names in less formal settings, their absences during their clan's most important public performances were undoubtedly noted with disapproval by the older people and undermined their own and their matrikin's 220

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reputation and status. In later decades, when the Presbyterian school had achieved greater moral and physical control over its students, this interference with potlatching-the core element of the indigenous sociocultural orderintensified (see below). This heavy-handed control by the Presbyterians over their Native students did produce occasional resistance. My own older consultants commented on their parents' as well as their own secret escapes from the school to attend ceremonies in the village (Kan 1979-95). The Presbyterians themselves occasionally acknowledged that the "old customs" continued to have a certain influence on their students. They admitted that as late as 1895 some of the children at the school fasted before an important undertaking and that membership in football and other teams was still influenced by the children's clan and moiety affiliation (Condit n.d.; Kan 1979-95). On occasion, direct confrontation between the students and the administration took place. In 1899 several older boys were so angry about not being allowed to attend a potlatch held in the Sitka village in connection with a peace ceremony involving representatives of the Sitka and the Chilkat kwaans that they battered down the door of the superintendent's office; as a result, two of them were placed in jail (Wilbur n.d.:439)Y One of the most pervasive forms of control the school and the mission imposed on its students was the rule prohibiting them from speaking Tlingit in and outside the classroom. While in the first few years of the school's existence the teachers still allowed occasional use of Tlingit words by students whose command of English was not yet sufficient, by the early 1890S the English-only policy became standard at the boarding and the day schools. For uttering words in their mother tongue, the students had their mouths plastered or washed out with soap; sometimes habitual offenders were locked up (Kan 1979-95). The only time they could hear that language within a mission setting was during church services attended by adult Tlingit where some hymns were sung in Tlingit and sermons were interpreted into it from English. Separate religious services were also conducted for the school's teachers, staff, and Native students where only English was used. While some of the youngsters resisted this draconian rule and continued speaking Tlingit (or other Indian languages) in secret, others obeyed it and, as a result, graduated with a limited or no ability to speak their own languageY Without command of the Tlingit language, they could not take an active part in traditional feasts and memorial potlatches and became somewhat marginal to the Native community. 53 The Presbyterian missionaries' attitude toward Tlingit and other Native Alaskan languages and their almost universal refusal to use them as a method of religious (and secular) instruction should be discussed at some length here, since 221

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it contrasted rather sharply with the Orthodox Church's position on the subject and was one of the factors of that church's eventual ascendency over the Protestant ones in several northern Tlingit communities. With the exception of a few ministers laboring in isolated Tlingit communities where few Euro-Americans lived and English was rarely heard,54 most Presbyterian church workers opposed the use of Tlingit in religious services or at least insisted on using as much English as possible. Although some popular Protestant hymns and standard prayers were eventually translated into Tlingit, often by lay Tlingit preachers and church workers, late nineteenth-century Presbyterians made very few efforts to study the language, which they found extremely difficult to learn, and tried to have as little to do with it as possible. S. H. Young, who initially was forced to use a combination of Chinook Jargon and English (which a Native interpreter would translate into Tlingit) in his sermons, adamantly refused his superiors' request to compile a dictionary or a grammar of the Tlingit language, considering this a "useless and even harmful task." Writing in the 1920S, he claimed that while the Board of Home Missions had initially expressed an interest in having him pursue this kind of work, his strong opposition eventually changed its mind. Young found the Tlingit language to be "inadequate to express Christian thought" and said that he would rather see "the old tongues with their superstitions and sin die-the sooner the better-and replace these languages with that of Christian civilization" (1927:259). Sheldon Jackson fully agreed with Young, stating that there "was no benefit, only retardation of progress in the use of the vernacular" (1893:931). In Sitka, as in Wrangell, Austin and other missionaries felt they did not need to learn Tlingit, since by the early 1880s there were enough Englishspeaking Natives there, including the first Industrial School graduates, who could speak adequate English and act as interpreters for older, monolingual Tlingit Presbyterians.55 Even when Tlingit was used in services, the Tlingit parishioners were always told this was only a temporary concession to the older people. 56 Reverend Livingstone Jones, who served as a Presbyterian minister and sometime school teacher in several Tlingit communities from the 1890S to the 191OS, became the most outspoken and adamant opponent of the use of Tlingit for worship and instructionY In addition to conducting this direct assault on the Tlingit language, religious beliefs and practices, and sociopolitical institutions, the Presbyterians imposed their hegemonic control on the Tlingit youngsters in more subtle ways. They not only tried to control the students' bodies by forcing them to wear European dress (military-style uniforms for the boys and prim Victorian dresses for the girls) and haircuts, but by making them live according to a Western temporal order. Through daily routines and nonverbal modes of communication, the missionar222

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ies introduced the young Tlingit and other Native Alaskans to an alternative system of work, gender relations, food tastes, etc. 58 While they did not fully succeed in turning all of them into low middle-class Christian Americans, after the first decade of Protestant education and religious proselytizing, and especially the boarding school experience, there already developed a major social and ideological division within the Tlingit community. At this point it should be mentioned that, while William Wells and his small cohort came to the missionary school of their own free will, and while their parents were quite enthusiastic about the Presbyterian religious services (at least for the first few years after they had begun), Rev. Austin and his colleagues received a lot of help from the local Navy commanders in their efforts to broaden their base in the Native community in Sitka and beyond. In fact, in the late 1870S and especially the early 1880s, Presbyterian proselytizing was closely supported by and intertwined with the "civilizing" activities of such people as Captain Beardslee, Captain Glass, and several others. While the threat of force, represented by the Navy, did strengthen the Presbyterians' hand, it eventually turned many of the more conservative Tlingit people against them and pushed a major portion of the Sitka Native community to Russian Orthodoxy. When commander Beardslee arrived in Sitka in 1879, his primary task was to restore the sagging morale of Sitka's Anglo- and Russian-American residents and improve their relations with the nearby Tlingit village. He tried to accomplish that by reestablishing Sitka's civil government and limiting the availability of commercial liquor to the Native community and the production of hootchenoo by the Indians themselves (Hinckley 1982:50). While he did use force to limit Tlingit drinking and continued to maintain the nightly curfew for Indian visitors to the town (Native servants and others with special permission were exempt; see Krause 1993:173), the Commander tried to deal fairly with the local Native population and often agreed to honor the requirements of the Tlingit justice system, at least whenever payments in blankets and cash were demanded by the Indians from a guilty Euro-American individual. In fact, on several occasions he was called upon by the Indians themselves to serve as an arbiter in their own internal disputes (Beardslee 1882). When forced to arrest Tlingit criminals, Beardslee preferred to have Indian policemen rather than his own sailors put them in the town's jail, which became an important symbol of American authority ("skookum house" in Chinook or "shteen hit" = "steel house" in Tlingit). Like his predecessors in the RAe, Beardslee chose to rely on the Tlingit aristocratic leadership, which he both honored and used as an intermediary between the Navy and the Native community. Thus, soon after his arrival in Sitka in mid-1879, he appointed Annaxoots the head of 223

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Indian police and gave him four Native assistants, all of them members of his clan. Officially these men served as first-class seamen, with a monthly salary of $30 for "officers" and $20 for "enlisted men." The name of the Navy ship currently patrolling Alaska was inscribed on their caps in large gilt letters, and on their chests Indian policemen wore large silver stars. Soon they became Beardslee's invaluable allies in his fight against home-brew making in the "Ranche." Annax60ts and his Kaagwaantaan warriors in Navy uniforms must have agreed to work for Beardslee for several reasons. To begin with, European uniforms had been popular among the Tlingit since Russian times as signs of their owners' special relationships with the powerful outsiders. Second, the Kaagwaantaan policemen could use their new power to arrest fellow Tlingit to settle scores with long-time enemies and rivals. 59 At the same time, they could also shield some of their own people from the Navy's wrath. Finally Annaxoots must have come to the conclusion that the Americans were too powerful and had to be cooperated with. In fact, he seems to have sought an accommodation with the Waashdan Kwaan from the 1870S on. Thus in 1874 he reportedly made the following statement to General Howard (Howard 1907:302): "My people are just beginning to arrive at what I have long desired-amity with the whites and with each other under the protection of a good commander. I have had many battles to secure this and my people are just beginning to see that I was right." Even though the Kaagwaantaan leader exaggerated the degree of his influence on the entire Sitka Kwaan, or even on members of his clan, he was a highly respected aristocrat whose opinion did carry considerable weight in the community. Eventually, Beardslee did realize that both moieties had to be represented on the police force, so as to avoid accusations of favoritism, and he appointed Kalyaan to be Annax60ts' assistant; he also hired several other Kiks.adi men to serve with him. This was a clever move-now the two moieties could be played against each other in crisis situations. When Annaxoots and his men became heavily intoxicated on July 5, 1880, it was the Kiks.adi policemens' turn to arrest them (Hinckley 1982:87-88). After Annax60ts' death, another Kaagwaantaan man served as the head of the Sitka Indian police, but in the mid-1880s Kalyaan finally took over that office (Report of the Governor of Alaska for 1886:27-28).60 With the help of the Indian policemen Beardslee began restricting those indigenous practices that were particularly frightening and offensive to Sitka's "lawabiding" citizens and zealous reformers alike. Thus he began curtailing slavery and saved the lives of a number of accused witches. In one instance, Beardslee arrested a Sitka shaman who had been hired by a local Tlingit family to identify the witch the family believed was engaging in evil practices against its members. Beardslee attempted to reason with the i:;sf and even asked him to try to use his powers 224

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against him; according to subsequent reports, the shaman told his people "his spirits had no power over the white man" (Beardslee 1882:58-59).61 Whether it was in Sitka or another Tlingit community, Beardslee tried to maintain law and order by relying on the local aristocratic leaders. While his actions contributed to the decline of some important traditional practices, they also strengthened lineage/clan headmen and high-ranking aristocrats, upholders of the traditional sociocultural order and its values. The commander (ibid.:182) argued that American authorities in Alaska "should recognize the power and influence which are held by the chiefs, and secure their faithful alliance and powerful influence by giving them positions of trust and authority over their own people, and paying them fair wages for their services as 'policemen'-a position considered by them as one full of honor, and eagerly sought by the greatest chiefs among them." While his successor, Captain Henry Glass, who arrived in Sitka in late 1880, continued to rely on Indian policemen, he did not show them and other Tlingit leaders in Sitka and throughout Lingit aani as much "respect." In fact, his yearand-a-half-Iong rule was remembered by the Tlingit for many years as an era of a frontal assault on their traditional way of life. One of Glass's first acts in his capacity as Alaska's virtual governor was to release all of Sitka's slaves from' bondage in their owners' presence, giving each former slave a certificate to that effect (Glass 1890:11-12). He then formally announced that slavery was being officially abolished in all of Alaska and during the following year continued setting slaves free and penalizing aristocrats still trying to hang on to their slaves. As a result, slavery in southeastern Alaska did become a thing of the past by the mid-1880s, with the exception of a few isolated communities where it survived for another decade. 62 Shamanism was another major aspect of the nineteenth-century Tlingit culture which Glass vigorously attacked. Unlike Beardslee, who tried to use persuasion, the new Navy commander arrested and heavily fined intransigent shamans; he also shaved their heads to humiliate and deprive them of a major seat of their power as well as the main symbol of their special status and insulted them further in front of their people by calling them "frauds" and "liars." The most notorious medicine men were further humiliated by having their shaved heads painted red. Like his predecessor, Glass liked to show the shamans that he had more power than they did, but, unlike Beardslee, he used the cruel method of having an i2lt' hold in his hands the wires from a fully charged electric battery (Kamenskii 1985:85-86; Glass 1890; Emmons 1991:403-11). Glass's ruthless antishamanism campaign bore some fruit-by the 1890S the few remaining Sitka shamans could only practice their vocation in secret. In other, more isolated 225

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communities, where the authorities had much less control over the Native population, shamans continued to heal patients well into the 1910S and, in places like Angoon, even into the 1920S.63 While witchcraft-related beliefs survived well into the twentieth century, the physical abuse of accused witches had declined significantly by the 1890S. At the turn of the century the Tlingit were already more likely to turn to the Western medical system in cases of serious illness. Of course, it was not just the violent "civilizing" campaign of the likes of Captain Glass that weakened the shamans' power and influence. Like the rest of the Tlingit, they were beginning to turn to Christianity and quickly learning that, on the issue of shamanism, the Christian churches (including the Orthodox one) were unanimous. In a letter to Sheldon Jackson, written in 1884 (p H s; RG 239, b. 4, f. 7), Austin reported that he had had to disappoint a shaman by telling him that he could not stay at the mission school because of his age. The old man had appealed to Austin on having been alarmed by Training School boys who had told him that the tortures of hell he had heard about in a sermon applied especially to "Indian doctors" like him. Some shamans were known to join a church hoping to get rid of their tutelary spirits whom they no longer had any use for (de Laguna 1972719). It should be pointed out, however, that not all of the shamans surrendered to the power of the Waashdan Kwaan without resistance. While Glass (1890) boasted of the almost total success of his anti-shamans' campaign, oral tradition contains several accounts of shamans' resistance and even victory. 64 Curtailing intervillage and inter-kwaan feuding and warfare, another major task of "civilizing" the Tlingit and maintaining law and order in southeastern Alaska begun by Beardslee, was also vigorously pursued by Glass. 65 He was even more adamant about not allowing the Tlingit to interfere with mining, fishing, and other commercial activities undertaken by Euro-Americans in their ancestral territories. Glass's actual support or more often their threats to appeal to him, undoubtedly helped the Presbyterians to quell any strong antimissionary agitation by the more conservative aristocrats and shamans. This, for example, was the case in Chilkat country, where the Presbyterians had established a mission in 188l. There Glass disregarded the established ("respectful") manner of negotiating with Tlingit leaders, which the RAe had first introduced and which most of the previous Army and Navy officers had, to some extent, perpetuated. Instead, during a visit to Haines, he ordered (rather than invited) only two of the local headmen to come to his ship because, as he put it, he did not want to have a "big potlatch." Also contrary to the established precedent, he gave them no presents but, instead, in the words of the local Presbyterian missionary, offered them "a sound and forcible exposition of the law." Among the things he threatened to 226

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oppose with force were the making, selling, or use of liquor, internal fighting, and especially the harming of Whites. In the latter case, he threatened to storm the local village and blockade the river to prevent Native inhabitants from fishing and traveling. Glass also demonstrated to the two Native leaders "what the big guns were made of by firing quite a number of balls and bombshells"; as a result, "the big braves did not laugh any more" (Willard 1884:127-28; cf. Krause 1993: 115).

The energetic commander not only fought ruthlessly against a number of prominent Tlingit "old customs," but was equally interested in "Americanizing" and "civilizing" Sitka's Native inhabitants. Thus while the Presbyterian educators attempted to control their student's bodies by forcing them to cut their hair and wear standardized Western clothing, Glass tried to impose uniformity on the houses in the "Ranche" by making its inhabitants clean and drain their lots and whitewash their homes. 66 Like his Presbyterian allies, Glass (who actually attended Austin's Sunday services) believed that the Tlingit acquisitiveness and desire to imitate the "White Man" offered the authorities and the religious reformers alike a major opportunity to encourage their rapid social and economic "progress" and, more important, to promote their participation in the Euro-American economy as a useful labor force (Glass 1890:15). In Sitka the commander strongly discouraged the Tlingit from drinking by prevailing upon traders not to sell or at least to limit their sale of molasses to them and by sending policemen and sailors into Native homes to destroy their stills. Unlike Beardslee, he did not hesitate to invade highranking headmen's homes, thus showing them, once again, who was really in charge in Sitka. Like his Presbyterian allies, the commander encouraged the Tlingit to spend their newly earned wealth on clothing, house furnishings, and other useful and "modern" things, rather than on liquor. He also promoted the building of new American-style homes by the old aristocracy as well as some of the nouveaux riches, and even sent his sailors into the Sitka Indian Village to help with the work. Although most of these homes were still owned by and housed matriline ages, they looked "civilized" on the outside and made the Tlingit appear less threatening to the town's non-Natives. 67 The fact that each house in the "Ranche" was now numbered contributed further to the EuroAmerican population's sense of security and to the officials' sense of control over the Tlingit community.68 From the Presbyterian missionaries' point of view, Glass's greatest contribution to the cause of civilizing the Tlingit was his making school attendance in Sitka compulsory for all children between the ages of five and fifteen. This was accomplished by forcing each child to wear a tin badge with his or her house's as 227

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well as the child's own number stamped on it. As soon as children came into school they were registered. The parents of truant children were fined at least one blanket (Willard 1884:31-32; Wright 1883:181-82). Initially, many Tlingit parents resisted this method of insuring their children continued exposure to the religion and secular knowledge of the Waashdan Kwaan, but soon, in the words of one enthusiastic Euro-American visitor to Sitka, they "resigned to the inevitable" (Wright 1883:182). What most of these parents resented was not so much the fact that their children were forced to study in the White's school but that their freedom to join their relatives for various subsistence activities was now restricted. This was a blow not only to Tlingit prosperity (older children were important helpers to their kin) but to their sense of independence and selfdetermination. 69 According to Jackson, parents whose children were notorious truants were imprisoned by Glass. As a result of Glass's efforts, attendance in the Presbyterian day school increased dramatically, reaching 250 on some days, and even some of the parents decided to join their children in the classroom (Annual Report on Education in Alaska for 1886:22). Glass's successor, Captain Pearson, was not as heavy-handed, and reversed some of Glass' reforms, although the general assault on the more visible and "offensive" "old customs" continued throughout the 1880s. When Alaska became a territory in 1884, its governors, especially Alfred Swineford, also began to act as the civilizers of the Panhandle's indigenous population. Swineford's methods of fighting shamans among the X6otsnoowu people were so ruthless that even John Brady (commissioner or justice of the peace between 1884 and 1889) denounced them as too harsh (Hinckley 1982:114-15; The Alaskan, 12-26-1885). In Sitka itself, the governor even tried to forbid the winter bathing of children by their parents in the icecold sea. Obsessed with order and cleanliness, he condemned the Indians for blackening their faces (even for going on subsistence expeditions!), and on several occasions threatened to call the fire brigade to put an end to their cremation of the dead. Swineford was also the first American official to attack the potlatch, the heart of the indigenous culture. He was known to have walked inside a Tlingit house where the ceremony was taking place and tried to interrupt it (MS in Brady Collection, Ser. 1, box 1, f. 2-26; Wells n.d.). Although the data on Sitka Tlingit attitudes toward the "civilizing" efforts of the Waashdan Kwaan is very limited, it appears that a combination of Presbyterian "carrots" (i.e., promises of material and spiritual benefits), on the one hand, and naval and civil officials' "sticks," on the other, combined with the Natives' own desire to "imitate" Euro-Americans and not to be treated as inferior "savages," were causing some significant changes in Tlingit life. However, with the exception of the assault on the process of child socialization, most of the changes had not yet affected the core ideological princi228

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pIes and sociopolitical institutions of Tlingit life. While by the mid-188os Panhandle Indians had begun to dress like Euro-Americans and to furnish their Victorian-style homes in the latest American fashions, behind the walls of their homes lineages and clans continued to observe the major traditional ceremonies, while moiety exogamy, matrilineal descent, and rank continued to order the lives of the majority of Sitka's Native population. Tlingit attitudes toward the Americans appear to have remained ambivalent, just as they had been in the late 1860s and 1870S. Native involvement in the market economy continued to grow, bringing substantial wealth to many of the old aristocrats and their lower-ranking but equally enterprising relatives (Drucker 1958; Hinckley 1972, 1996; Price 1990). Some of the innovations brought by religious and civil reformers (e.g., the curtailing of violent warfare and the widespread making of home-brew) must have been appreciated by a significant portion of the population. However, the lack of "respect" that most Euro-Americans, including some of the leaders of the Presbyterian mission and government officials, continued to show toward the Tlingit remained a major source of resentment for them. Particularly frustrating was the unpredictability of the Americans and the inconsistency of their policies. Krause (1993:173), an astute observer, summarized this problem in the following comment: "Today [in 1881-82] the Sitka Indian is considered to be most unreliable. Unrest was caused by the vacillating rule of the person representing the government. Each American warship captain was usually the only authority in the area. Each one pursued a different policy towards the Indians." Anti-Indian prejudice in Sitka remained rather strong, manifesting itself in various open as well as subtle ways. On many occasions the Tlingit could do nothing but hide their anger; sometimes, however, they let their American neighbors know how they felt. For example, in May of 1882 a number of young Natives rioted on the Sitka parade grounds (adjacent to the Indian Village) and threatened to burn down the military barracks in protest against the collector of customs, W. G. Morris, who lived in that building and amused himselfby shooting Indian-owned dogs from his window. Lieutenant Benson and his contingent of u.s. Marines were forced to stand off the rioters with two howitzers aimed at the Ranche (DeArmond 1993:15). On another occasion, when a Tlingit prisoner brought from Juneau committed suicide in the Sitka jail, his local clan relatives gathered near the guardhouse the next day and demanded 150 blankets and $200 as compensation from the authorities, threatening to create a riot if they were not paid (Ushin's Diary, AReA, D 434). Sometimes fears that the Tlingit were becoming too much like the Dleit Kaa were expressed through the powerful traditional medium of the dream, trance, or coma followed by a "return to life" during which the revived person reported his 229

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or her experiences in the land of the dead.7° One Presbyterian missionary reported that during the winter of 1882-83 a rumor was circulating throughout southeastern Alaska that a Native man, who had died in Sitka, came back to life a few days later and, before departing from this world permanently, told his people they had to continue burning food and clothing to make their deceased kin more comfortable in their other world. He had also allegedly said that those of them who continued to adhere to the traditions of their ancestors were the favored ones in the next world-they sat close to a warm, bright fire, while those following the new "Christ-religion" were their slaves who sat back in the dark, cold corners (Willard 1884:305-306). Thus drawing on a traditional image of the privations suffered by those departed persons whose kin failed to send them sustenance and clothing through the fire, this man was casting the zealous converts to Christianity in the role of marginal outsiders in the "village of the dead." Despite these occasional open acts of resistance and anti-Christian statements made by some shamans and other ideological conservatives, the Presbyterians clearly enjoyed significant success in their missionary efforts in the Lingit aani in the first half of the 1880s. By 1883, when the Presbytery of Alaska was officially constituted at the Church's General Assembly's meeting in Saratoga Springs, missions were operating in Haines, Juneau, Hoonah, Sitka, Wrangell, and several other southern Tlingit communities. In Sitka, Presbyterian services continued to be well attended by the Natives, although the initial enthusiasm and curiosity of the late 1870S and early 1880s began to wear off by 1884. When the First Presbyterian Church of Sitka was officially established during that year, its forty-nine Native members were chiefly older students of the Training School (such as William Wells and Rudolph Walton) and their relatives.!' Their contacts with the Native community severely limited, Training School students were becoming increasingly indoctrinated with Protestant ideology and occasionally underwent Christian revival experiences. One such revival took place in 1884 and was reported by Austin in a letter to Sheldon Jackson written in the spring ofthat year (r H s, Sheldon Jackson Correspondence, b. 4, f. 8-9). Even if the minister exaggerated his students' religious enthusiasm, after several years of living at the mission, they were clearly beginning to make Presbyterian Christianity an important part of their spiritual life. According to Austin, during that incident religious meetings took place every night, the initiative for them seemingly coming from the students themselves. Older students at the school expressed their desire to become "real Christians." They also seemed troubled by the fact that religious fervor and their "civilized" way of life were not yet shared by their relatives in the Indian village. In the minister's words, "They are praying very earnestly for their friends [and relatives?] in the Ranche and when they visit 230

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them, they talk to them on the subject of religion and plead with them to give up their sinful customs." In another letter he mentioned that his students were praying for the "outpouring of the Holy Spirit on their friends, so that they may give up their old customs and superstitions and come to Jesus" (ibid.). The Training School's older students' and first graduates' great familiarity with the Bible and their special ties with the Presbyterian missionaries and teachers made them the natural leaders of the Native Presbyterian Church, acting as intermediaries between the rest of the Presbyterian Tlingit community and the Church's Euro-American establishment. By the mid-1880s some younger Tlingit, both mission school graduates and those who did not study there, were beginning to get married in the Presbyterian Church. In 1885, for example, the missionaries were pleased to see Rudolph Walton and James Jackson (1855-1934) do that. The latter was a close matrilineal relative of Chief Annaxoots who refused to assume his senior kinsman's leading role in the house and the clan when the old man passed away in 1890/2 Some Tlingit Presbyterians, especially boarding school students, were now being buried rather than cremated, the mission/school staff conducting the funeral services. This did not always prevent the relatives of the deceased from conducting their own memorial rites, but at least the "houses" of the dead Christians, like those of their living counterparts, were beginning to look like those of the EuroAmericans (see below)/3 Even some high-ranking aristocrats, who had not joined the Presbyterian Church themselves, made requests for Christian funeral services for their kin. For example, Rev. Willard was asked by Chief Annaxoots to conduct such a service for his wife. However, the major traditional customs (e.g., removing a plank from the side of the house and taking the corpse out through that opening and throwing a dog after the dead body) were also still observed during that funeral (Willard 1884:17-18). Despite this apparent success of the Presbyterian mission's efforts to evangelize the local Tlingit, a surprising new development began in the early 1880s-the Tlingit suddenly renewed their interest in the Russian Church, even though, compared to the Presbyterian one, it was severely underfinanced and understaffed. Moreover, Fr. Mitropol'skii and his subordinate clergy, who had recently taken an active part in the "Indian scare," continued to pay very little attention to the cause of proselytizing Orthodoxy among the "Kolosh." In order to understand this sudden change in the Native attitude toward Orthodoxy, we must examine in some detail the changes in the Creole-Tlingit relations that were taking place in the early 1880s as well as explain the various ideological, political, and social reasons for the disenchantment of a greater portion of Sitka's Tlingit population in the Presbyterian mission. 231

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The Tlingit Rediscovery of Orthodoxy Evidence for the Tlingit "rediscovery" of Orthodoxy could be found in Church statistics as well as in Fr. Mitropol'skii's report to the Alaska Consistory, dated June 6, 1880 (ARCA, D 432). In it he mentions that "lately the local savages [tuzemnye dikariJ have been demonstrating a desire to become Orthodox." In December ofI881 he told Krause (1993:m-13) that in the course of that year he had baptized 70 Indians who were all attending church regularly. Eighteen eighty-one appears to have been the year when the Church gained the largest number of Tlingit members: if only 18 of them were listed in the 1880 records, by the end ofI881 there were 102 (ARCA, D 406). Smaller number of converts were added to the church rolls in the period from 1882 to 1885, but the parish did continue to experience steady growth, so that in 1885 it boasted 141 Tlingit members. This means that in 1884-85 there were already two or three times as many Sitka Tlingit in the Orthodox Church than in the Presbyterian one. In 1886, when the Russian Church finally began to make a serious effort to attract the Tlingit by sending two energetic missionaries to them, Native Church membership shot up dramatically, so that by 1888-89 all of the Sitka Tlingit population, with the exception of between 200 to 300 Presbyterians, was Orthodox (see chapter 6). Who were the converts to Orthodoxy of the early 1880s? Confessional records indicate that most of them were younger people in their teens, twenties, and thirties. A decade later these converts of the early 1880s formed the core of the local Tlingit Orthodox Brotherhood, which suggests that at least some of those who joined the church during that time were serious about their conversion (see chapter 6). A number of these younger converts bore high-ranking names and eventually became prominent Native leaders within the parish itself (e.g., David Kalchak, the main church interpreter in the late 1880s) and the larger Sitka Tlingit community (e.g., Iakov Kanagood, Nikifor Koolkeet'aa, Aleksandr Naawushkeitl). By 1885 some older people began to get baptized as well (e.g., Vasilii Jinkuteen, age fifty-five), but it was not until the massive conversion of 1886-87 that the senior aristocracy, including Annaxoots and K' alyaan, finally joined the Church. During this period, female converts tended to outnumber men-in 1885 there were 59 male and 82 female "Kolosh" members in the Sitka Orthodox parish. On a number of occasions, women and their babies or older children were baptized at the same time. A few of the converts came from the nearby communities of Hoonah, Angoon, and Killisnoo. What caused many of the Tlingit to turn their attention to the church which for many years had neglected them, while the Presbyterian mission was energeti232

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cally promoting its brand of Christianity in Sitka and several other Native communities? One of the major causes of this unexpected development appears to have been a significant rise in Tlingit involvement in the local non-Native economy and, consequently, in the social life of Sitka's Anglo-American and especially Russian-American communities. While missionary records, Presbyterian as well as Orthodox, say almost nothing about this change, there are such references in the local press and especially in a series of entries in the journals of a Russian store clerk, Stepan Ushin, who kept a log of interesting events and gossip involving all of the various communities in Sitka, particularly the Orthodox one. In the aftermath of a more or less peaceful resolution of the "1879 Indian scare," and especially with the establishment of the Presbyterian mission and Navy rule with its Indian police, the number of opportunities for the Tlingit to enter the town and take part in its public events and activities rose significantly. Not surprisingly, much of this interaction occurred between the Tlingit and the lower-class "Whites" and "half-breeds," including American sailors and Creoles who increased their drinking, cohabitation, and socializing with the "Indians." The latter had by now learned to speak some Russian and English and to dress more like their Euro-American neighbors. On March 1, 1880, for example, a dance held at the former Russian Club was attended by sailors from the Jamestown, as well as by Tlingit men and women (Ushin's Diary in AReA, d 434). During the period Tlingit canoe racing became a standard part of Fourth of July celebrations (although most athletic events continued to be segregated) and Christmas parties for Tlingit children and adults were established with a distribution of presents, sponsored by the Navy officers, Presbyterian missionaries, and city (and subsequently, territory) officials. In June 1881 Ushin made the following observation in his diary: The Kolosh have begun observing holidays and, because of that, have begun to dress as cleanly and as festively as possible. This became especially noticeable when Kolosh men and women began to be baptized in the Orthodox font [kupel'l and scrub themselves with soap and brush at the American Seminary. They have gradually begun to attract attention [of the Whites 1 to themselves. Due to this, some Creoles have begun marrying Kolosh women and through this the Kolosh have gained access to all of the places in town

(AReA, D

434).

Intermarriage, of course, has always been one of the most effective mechanisms of bridging cross-cultural differences. In Sitka at that time, an interesting pattern of cross-ethnic and cross-racial intermarriage was developing. Since the population of Euro-American women was much smaller than that of Anglo233

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American men, the latter had to find spouses in the other communities. Not surprisingly, most of them married Creole women, although a few eventually married their common-law Tlingit wives in the Russian Church or the Presbyterian mission.74 The Creoles, in turn, were beginning to marry women of Tlingit or Russian-Tlingit descent. Unlike the "White" Americans, Sitka Creoles had plenty of Russian/Creole women to marry-throughout the 1880s women in that community continued to outnumber men. The fact that a few Creoles chose Indian women suggests that their anti-Kolosh prejudice was beginning to diminish. In fact, for some Creoles marrying an industrious Tlingit woman from a respectable family was more advantageous than tying a knot with a destitute Creole woman with a "bad reputation." By the mid-1880s, the Tlingit were not only taking part in various secular and church holiday festivities organized by the Creole community, but were beginning to organize their own celebrations in the "White Man's style." They were becoming particularly fond of those non-Native feasts and celebrations that involved gift giving, costumes, and the consumption of large quantities of food and liquor. Thus, according to Ushin (ibid.), in 1885 the Sitka Indians were not only treating their out-of-town Native guests to sumptuous American- and Russian-style Christmas dinners and distributing store-bought gifts (e.g., cloth) among them, but were organizing "civilized" costumed dances during the Russian Christmastide season. By doing this they were establishing their own superiority and greater sophistication by demonstrating to their "country cousins" a newly acquired ceremony which the latter still lacked.75 Given the fact that the Orthodox clergy tended to discourage their parishes from splitting and creating new churches in the same small community, Sitka's few well-to-do "Russians" and numerous Creoles76 had to tolerate increased Tlingit participation in all of their various festivities and celebrations, despite some remaining suspicions and prejudices that at least some of them continued to harbor against the "wild Kolosh" (see chapter 6). In 1886 Orthodox Tlingit took part in the popular Russian custom of "starring" (walking from house to house with an illuminated star while singing Christmas carols)77 and made Easter visitations, which Ushin described as follows: The Russian [Creole 1 godmothers of the newly baptized Kolosh have been in charge of teaching them about the old Sitka tradition of Easter visitations. They have, indeed, succeeded in that. Wealthy Kolosh have stocked up on kulichi 78 Easter eggs, dried fruits, tea, etc. The young people among the Kolosh are especially fond of this. Because of the Kolosh participation, the visitations this year lasted for three days. The Kolosh like this rapprochement with the Whites. Young Kolosh 234

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men go from house to house and sing Easter hymns [pI. ermosy] . ... There are some married and some rich men among them (AReA, D 434). At a time when most Euro-Americans in Sitka were still avoiding any form of socializing with the Indians, the Tlingit converts must have appreciated these special bonds that they were able to establish with their Russian/Creole godparents,79 Regardless of how they personally felt about their "Kolosh" godchildren, these godparents had to fulfill their Christian duties of hosting them on Christmas and Easter, attending their weddings, and, most important, accompanying their bodies to the cemetery. That last act must have been particularly appreciated by the Tlingit, who treated participation in the funeral as a way of" showing respect" to the deceased and his or her matrikin (Ushin's Diary in ARC A, D 434).80 This increased socializing between the Creole and Tlingit communities, which contributed to and, in turn, further encouraged Tlingit conversion to Orthodoxy, stood in sharp contrast with the very limited opportunities that the Presbyterian Tlingit had to interact with their American counterparts. With the exception of the Training School teachers and a few other "friends of the Indians" (like John Brady), most White Presbyterians were not at all eager to become closer to the inhabitants of the "Ranche." In fact, at the time of the establishment of the Sitka Presbyterian Church in 1884, there were already two Presbyterian congregationsthe Native one, which consisted of the boarding school students and their families, plus the mission staff, and a separate White one. The two groups worshiped in separate rooms of the same building but shared a single minister. While the EuroAmericans claimed to have established a separate congregation because it had been difficult for them to sit through Tlingit translations of sermons, anti-Indian prejudice must have played a role in this schism. The second Presbyterian church was officially established in 1889, although it did not obtain its own building until 1892 (Archives, First Presbyterian Church of Sitka).81 The refusal of some of the Euro-American Presbyterians to worship with the Indians, as well as other forms of Waashdan Kwaan prejudice, demonstrated to the Sitka Tlingit that membership in an American church did not guarantee them acceptance in the American community. While continuing to try to gain that community's respect, many of the Tlingit then settled for membership in the Orthodox Church, which was opposed to segregation and discrimination in principle, even though some of its individual members continued to be as prejudiced against the "Kolosh" as their Euro-American neighbors. The status of most of St. Michael's Cathedral's parishioners was lower than that of many of Sitka's Euro-Americans, and that made them socially closer to the Tlingit. In addition, Sitka's Russian/Creole population still outnumbered the non-Orthodox "White" 235

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population by two to one. 82 At the same time the Creole community's status had increased somewhat since the 1860s and 1870S. With the local economy improving in the 1880s, many Creole men found work in mining, logging, and other occupations that brought them sufficient income to survive and support their families. Creole women-many of whom worked as laundresses and domestic servants-benefited from the slow but steady increase of Sitka's middle-class American population. Although the Creole community continued to be plagued by the old problems of excessive drinking, prostitution, petty crime, and other manifestations of real or perceived social disorder and ideological disorientation, it also tried to bolster its spirit as well as its material well-being by organizing a benevolent society and a cooperative store. A few of the more well-to-do Orthodox families had become fully accepted by Sitka's American civic and business establishment. In addition, with the rise of tourism, Sitka's Russian past and St. Michael's Cathedral, its major remaining embodiment and symbol, became a major attraction, and it was not just the clergy, but the Anglo-American merchants as well, who were now benefiting from marketing the town's Russian heritage. Stimulated by the tourists, the local Anglo-American elite also began viewing the cathedral, and specially its elaborate and "quaint" Easter and Christmas services, as an interesting and proper place to visit. 83 Simultaneously some Russian traditions, such as post-Christmas masquerades, were becoming part of the town's general social life. In the 1880s the local newspaper began to carry descriptions of major Orthodox Church feast days and communal celebrations, written in a sympathetic tone. Tlingit participation in Orthodox services and festivities was also commented on favorably in these articles as a sign of the general progress of the Native community. Of course, the Presbyterian mission did not share these sentiments. In fact, with Orthodoxy's increased popularity among the Tlingit, attacks on and misinformation about the Russian Church generated by the Presbyterians increased. American nationalism, strong anti-Catholic sentiments, and general ignorance were combined in their open statements to the Tlingit as well as in the rumors they spread. Thus Austin, an especially strong enemy of Orthodoxy, disseminated a false rumor that those who were baptized in the Russian Orthodox Church had to swear allegiance to the emperor of Russia (letter to Sheldon Jackson, 4-4-1887; PHS; RG 239, b. 4, f. 22). The most common accusation hurled by the Presbyterians at the Orthodox clergy was that it allowed or even encouraged its parishioners to drink and carouse. There was some truth in this accusation: although the Russian clergy obviously did not encourage drinking, its members were not teetotalers themselves and were more tolerant of Creole 236

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drinking which they saw as an unfortunate but inevitable part of the Russian heritage. The hard-working and puritanical Presbyterians were also very critical of the large number of Orthodox holidays, which they saw only as an excuse to drink and party. Finally, from the Tlingit point of view, the symbolic richness of the Orthodox service and the predominance of ritual over the sermon in it were another major attraction. With the exception of singing, which Tlingit of all ages enjoyed, the Presbyterian service appealed a lot more to the English -speaking students (or graduates) of the mission school than to their Tlingit-speaking agemates and especially older tribesmen. In fact, while Presbyterian sermons were translated into Tlingit, the general ethos of that mission encouraged the ministers, who were often educators as well, to focus on the younger generation at the expense of the older one. This basic orientation toward the future that characterized the middle-class American culture of that era, including its Presbyterian variant, resulted in the Protestant missionaries paying a lot more attention to their younger parishioners, seen as the future "competent Christians citizens" of Alaska and the United States. While the rich meanings attributed by the Tlingit to Orthodox ritual acts and symbols will be discussed in much greater detail in chapter 9, at this point it must simply be mentioned that, compared to sacrament-centered Orthodoxy, Presbyterian communion, baptism, wedding, and funeral rituals appeared spare and unelaborated to them. Krause, who attended services at both churches when he visited Sitka in December of 1881, understood this very well, pointing out that "the ceremonies of the Greek Church definitively make a stronger impression on their [Tlingitl minds than the sober Protestant sermon" (1993:112). The same was true of its major holiday services, compared to the flamboyant and symbolically rich Christmas, Easter, and other feast days of the Orthodox Church. Here is, for example how the Sitka newspaper (The Alaskan, 4-23-1887:4) described the Easter Sunday observances at St. Michael's Cathedral during that year, attended by Creole and Tlingit parishioners as well as some curious non-Orthodox visitors: A little before midnight the firing of a cannon and the ringing of bells warned the members to repair to the church. The church had been illuminated most profusely a couple of hours before midnight and those of the Graeco-Russian faith-Whites and Indians-came to pay homage to the body of the Savior, which lay represented upon a catafalque covered with a purple velvet cloth, richly embroidered in gold. Upon the loins of the Divine Master rested the Evangel most exquisitely bound in velvet & gold .... The faithful performed the adoration by kneeling in front of the catafalque and prostrating themselves so low that their foreheads touched the· 237

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floor. .. and repeatedly making the sign of the cross; upon rising they would devoutly kiss the Evangel first and the feet of the image afterwards. Very large candles in rich silver candelabra gave a most solemn impression to the celebration which commenced by a cantata in a mournful tone. When the last notes of the choir had died away, the Royal doors were open to stay for a week .... Then Christ's image was carried back to the sanctuary. A procession was then formed which made the circuit of the church and when it returned, the officiating priest, holding in his right hand a golden cross, placed himself in front of the three steps leading to the Royal Doors, so as to face the congregation, with a deacon on each side of him.

As I have shown, by the mid-1880s Christianity had become an aspect of nonNative culture that attracted many of the Tlingit throughout southeastern Alaska, especially the younger ones. Because of that, the Presbyterians managed to establish a foothold in almost all of the major communities in Lingit aani. What made Sitka unique was the availability of choice between two very different models of Christianity. One of them promised much greater material benefits and a quicker assimilation into the dominant society as well as a style of worship that did not make much sense in terms of the traditional Tlingit spirituality and rich ceremonial life. The other one promised mainly spiritual benefits, rather than any material ones or any quick acceptance by the dominant society, although it did help improve the Tlingit standing somewhat in the eyes of Sitka's Euro-American establishment. At the same time, it contributed to the rapprochement between its Creole members, who themselves suffered from the dominant society's prejudice, and the new converts. The style of worship it offered was much more attractive to the more traditionalist Native people. In the end, Presbyterianism promised more but did not deliver on some of its major promises; for example, membership in their church did not prevent the Tlingit from being treated as second-rate persons. Orthodoxy, however, promised less but "delivered" more. Most important, as Tlingit converts to Presbyterianism gradually realized, the price they had to pay for joining this powerful Waashdan Kwaan institution was a significant loss of independence, including the freedom to raise and educate their own children according to centuries-old traditions. Thus, by aligning themselves too closely with the naval and civil authorities, Presbyterian missionaries did make some important gains at first (especially in the field of education), but eventually alienated the majority of the Sitka Tlingit. In contrast, the Orthodox Church's weak state in the post-l867 Alaska, which initially turned the Tlingit away, eventually contributed to their return to it. In that church they could be

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both "civilized" and respectable but also largely independent, ideologically as well as politically. Finally, one must not discount the fact that the Sitka Tlingit had been exposed to Orthodoxy since the early nineteenth century. Even if most of them had turned their backs on the Russian Church in the 1860s and 1870s, many still owned baptismal crosses and other sacred objects they or their senior relatives had received from the clergy prior to 1867. Quite a few of the young converts of 1880 to 1885 may have come from families that had once been Orthodox and thus could have maintained at least some knowledge about its beliefs and style of worship. In any event, according to the following statement made by Ivan Zhukov in 1882 and obtained by Emmons (1991:103), basic Orthodox prayers had become rather common among the Tlingit by this time, even though the reasons for praying remained quite traditional: "Now a great many know [the] Lord's Pray[ er], and before going hunting they ask God to help them and bring them luck, and whenever they sit down to gamble they would pray [to] God to give them good luck to win lots of money, and they pray in this way for everything they wish, whether good or bad. And when a man sees anything in a store he wants and can't buy, he goes home and prays for it, that God will help him to steal it if he can't buy it." Tlingit disenchantment with the Presbyterians, and especially their authoritarian control over its boarding school students, coincided with and actually contributed to an increase in their inte~est in Orthodoxy. These two processes reached their climax in 1885 when Sheldon Jackson and the Training School staff found themselves under attack from a very loose coalition of anti-Presbyterian American officials, the Orthodox clergy, and a number of Tlingit parents of the Presbyterian school's students, worried about their children being weaned away from the traditional culture. 84 Presbyterian advances in the field of Indian education were undoubtedly making Fr. Mitropol'skii and his subordinates nervous, even though they had not done very much in that area themselves. It appears that no Orthodox parish school for the Tlingit existed in Sitka prior to 1886. Even the education of Russian and Creole children was in a rather dismal state during that period. According to Fr. Mitropol'skii's 1885 report to the Alaska Consistory, during the years when no public school existed in Sitka the Russian parish school (occasionally?) taught secular subjects in addition to religious ones and attracted some non-Orthodox children (AReA, D 335). At the same time, there is some evidence that in the 1870S Russian priests taught in the public school which was attended by American children as well as many of their own parishioners' offspring. In 1879, for example, Fr. Mitropol'skii taught reading in Russian and some Russian grammar as 239

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well as the Orthodox catechism to the Orthodox students of the public school which operated on and off until 1885, when two u.s. government-supported schools-one for the Native and one for "White" children (including Creoles)finally opened. Possibly as a response to Presbyterian educational efforts as well as the opening of these schools, Mitropol'skii appears to have revived his parish school in 1883 or 1884 (Annual Report of the Governor of Alaska for 1886:27). However, his efforts were limited, the school remaining poorly attended. We do not know if any Tlingit children were enrolled in it, but that appears doubtful. In fact Mitropol'skii's own children, as well as many Russian/Creole children, attended the public school in order to learn English and various secular subjects. Despite his willingness to cooperate with Sitka's American establishment, by the mid-188os the priest had several reasons to worry. First of all, it was clear to everyone that, thanks to the efforts of Sheldon Jackson, the recently appointed general agent for Alaska education, the two government schools were being staffed by Presbyterian teachers who, in addition to the three Rs, introduced Creole and Tlingit children to their own brand of Christianity. Mitropol'skii was also upset by the fact that government money was being spent on a Presbyterian boarding school, enabling it to offer a kind of education to the Tlingit youngsters that his own Church could only dream of. Fr. Nikolai's opposition to Jackson's efforts to lace Presbyterians in various positions of authority in the newly established Territory was first expressed in his report to the Alaska Consistory, dated May 21, 1885. Once again, as in his earlier reports on the events of 1879, he claimed to be speaking on behalf of his parish and asked the Consistory to alert the Russian ambassador to Washington to another encroachment on the rights of Alaska's Orthodox residents (see Appendix I). Mitropol'skii was particularly frustrated by the government's plan to appoint Jackson Alaska's general agent for education, as well as by the government's continuing financial support of the Presbyterian boarding school in Sitka. The priest must have been especially upset by the fact that Orthodox Tlingit and a few Creole youngsters were among the Sitka Training School's students. Not only were they being indoctrinated with Presbyterianism; they were limited in their freedom to attend Russian Church services. Rev. Austin also appears to have been unhappy about having Orthodox students at his boarding school. In January of 1882 he wrote to Jackson that he had recently received a letter from the Russian priest stating that some of his students were Orthodox and asking him not to turn them away "from their mother's milk." Austin did allow them to attend Orthodox church services on Saturdays (but not the communion services on Sundays). What infuriated him was that one of the Tlingit boys left the school and went to the Russian Church to be baptized. After that, Austin decided that the Orthodox

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students either had to stop going to their own church or be dismissed, and he asked Jackson's opinion on this matter. For the time being he required that all those who went to the Orthodox services on Saturdays attend his own services on Sundays; he also forbade them to attend Orthodox holy day services. As a result, at least one of the students promised him not to have anything further to do with the Russian Church (p H S, RG 239, b. 3, f. 19). Two months later he wrote another letter to Jackson (ibid.) complaining that the older students were asking him to be paid for the work they had done for the school. He believed that Fr. Mitropol'skii was the instigator of this request. He also mentioned that when several of his boys left the school, the Russian priest offered them shelter. Eventually all of the older students who had left the Training School were baptized by him. Austin blamed the rival church for encouraging drinking among its members and for not fighting the "old customs" among its Native parishioners. Mutual suspicions and accusations were responsible for the deterioration of relations between the two missions. When the first boarding school burned down in 1882, some Presbyterian teachers and students (e.g., Wells) suspected the "Russian" boys were responsible. When the new one began to be built, older students conducted nightly vigils and, according to Wells (n.d.), twice caught Creole boys trying to burn the new building down. The fact that the Russian priest's house, standing next to the Presbyterian school, remained untouched was interpreted by the Tlingit as a sign of his church's superiority (Krause 1956:230). The priest, undoubtedly, encouraged that view. During a meeting between the Presbyterians and some Native leaders, including Annax60ts and other Indian policemen, Austin learned that the Russian priest had been telling the boarding school's students that, while Austin was their teacher and his wife and daughter were their "mothers," he himself was their true "father" and that they had to go to his church. Austin angrily responded to this by telling his Native audience that he was their teacher as well as their father and that he would not feed and clothe them "unless they were American and not Russian" (Austin's letter to Jackson, 3-7-1882; PHS, R G 239, b. 3, f. 19). The rhetoric of both missionaries had a strong paternalistic flavor. To counteract the influence of the Presbyterians on the Tlingit, Mitropol'skii revived the moribund religious instruction and lectures for the adult "Kolosh" parishioners which were well attended (AReA, B 21). Due to his efforts, the Tlingit began to see the Orthodox Church as an alternative institution where they could find refuge from the Presbyterian mission while remaining "Christian" and "civilized." Thus, when Tlingit left the Training School, they usually got baptized in the Russian Church rather than abandon Christianity altogether. Fr. Nikolai was not the only one in Sitka who was becoming increasingly 241

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frustrated with the activities of the Presbyterian educators. With the appointment of the Territory's first governor, John H. Kinkead, anti-Presbyterian forces began to prepare for a fight with a powerful alliance between the local Presbyterian missionaries and teachers and such influential people as John Brady, who was both a prosperous local merchant and commissioner, and the energetic Washington lobbyist Sheldon Jackson, who used his Presbyterian connections to influence both the president and Congress. Governor Kinkead, U.S. district judge McAllister, and U.S. district attorney Haskett wanted Congress to terminate Alaska's prohibition law, which was not working anyway and was depriving the local merchants of good profits. Even Brady, a sensible man, was sympathetic to replacing prohibition with "high license." To Jackson, however, this was unthinkable. The anti-Presbyterian party was also upset by the Presbyterian boarding school's occupation of Sitka's prime real estate and its plans to build single-family cottages for its first graduates. They claimed that the mission was expanding its territory beyond the plot given to it by Brady, and was trespassing on the public road. More generally, these politicians resented an extraordinary influence that Jackson and his "Presbyterian hierarchy" seemed to have on Alaska, and especially Sitka, politics. For example, Kinkead strongly objected to Jackson's substitution of Presbyterian names for Native place names and demanded that they be reversed (Scidmore 1885:272; Nichols 1924; Hinckley 1972:162).

In their efforts to curtail the Presbyterians' power and influence, Kinkead & Co. needed allies. They found them among both the Creoles and the Tlingit, although for very different reasons. The Creoles were worried that by encouraging the Christian Indians to build their own homes outside the "Ranche" the Presbyterians were promoting "Kolosh" encroachment on the section of Sitka called "the Russian town," located close to the Industrial School. They were particularly nervous because very few of them had legal title to the land their houses stood on. In early 1885 they began to express their concern to Haskett about the Presbyterian mission's territorial expansion. According to Hinckley (1972:93-94), who cites Jackson's letters, Haskett began to play upon "the Creoles' loss of self-esteem by drawing invidious comparisons between them and the local Indians." According to Jackson, "two or three public meetings were held and harangued by the District Attorney until an intense race prejudice was created between the Russians and natives, which made a riot liable at any time" (ibid.). While Jackson may have exaggerated Creole anti-Tlingit prejudice, it is conceivable that they were jealous of the attention lavished upon the "Kolosh" by the Presbyterians. Euro-Americans' anti-Indian prejudice was undoubtedly also fueling this resentment.

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The Tlingit community had a different grudge against the Presbyterians. A number of people whose children and other junior relatives had been placed in the Training School were beginning to show their displeasure with the five-year indenture contract they had been forced to sign. In some cases the child's guardians appeared not to have understood the nature of the contract, in others a conflict seemed to have developed between the relative(s) who had originally placed the child in the school and those who wished to have him or her removed from there. I suspect that in at least some of the cases the misunderstanding stemmed from the fact that many of the Tlingit continued to consider the child's matrilineal relatives to be its legitimate guardians, while the missionaries obviously preferred to have the parents place him or her in the school. Some highranking Tlingit were also unhappy about their offspring studying and especially living together with former slaves and accused witches. 85 Jackson and his people adamantly refused to revoke the contracts, arguing that without being confined to the school for at least five years, Indian children could not be turned into civilized and Christianized Americans. When several of the school's female students were removed from it by their kin,86 Jackson protested that they had no legal right of guardianship to do so. In fact he hinted that the relatives did so to profit from "selling" the girls to "unscrupulous Whites." Whether this was true or not, the Sitka court found the Presbyterian school contracts illegal. As a result, by the end of June 1885 half of the children had been removed from the Training School. The situation was aggravated by the death of one of the students, which sparked rumors about the teachers beating, starving, and even bewitching the students. Enraged parents arrived at the school and confronted Jackson, Brady, and Austin. Rumors spread throughout southeastern Alaska, undermining Presbyterian missionaries' work even in isolated places like Haines. For the first time the Tlingit saw a major division within the ranks of the Waashdan Kwaan as well as a strong Russian-American disagreement, and they took advantage of it. As the Haines missionary explained, as soon as "his people" found out that "the new white men" (government officials) were saying that the teachers were "no good," they became "insolent and unteachable, suspicious and contemptuous towards us" (Hinckley 1982:95-96). The crisis climaxed when a grand jury, composed mainly of Creoles, brought a list of indictments against Jackson. For a few hours he was even placed in jail. Invoking his newly acquired status of martyr, Jackson quickly mobilized public opinion against his enemies and, using his Presbyterian connections in Washington, influenced the Democratic president, Cleveland, to appoint Alfred Swineford, a Democrat, as new governor for Alaska. McAllister and Haskett were also replaced by officials more sympathetic to Jackson's cause. 243

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On the surface, the Presbyterian party had won this battle. Some Tlingit parents were forced or persuaded to return their children to the Training School. The new judge found the indenture system legal and, according to Governor Swineford's Annual Report for 1886 (1887:25-26), the situation at the school improved. The number of students at the Presbyterian school continued to rise-after all, the Industrial School gave the Tlingit youngsters a better education than the public one. Nevertheless, this was the first time that the Native community saw that the Presbyterians were not omnipotent. Some of the parents who had been particularly annoyed by the kind of indoctrination their offspring had been receiving and/or the Presbyterian school's anti-Orthodox propaganda, managed to keep their children away from it. With the Presbyterian mission's reputation seriously tarnished by these events, the Orthodox Church's appeal to the Tlingit increased further. In May of 1885 St. Michael's Cathedral was full of Tlingit, eager to get some religious instruction (Ushin's Diary in AReA, D 434). Unfortunately for them, Fr. Mitropol'skii was too busy dealing with his own problems, which included the seizure of the Cathedral by the Northwest Trading Company for a large personal debt he owed it. 87 His other problem was the growing opposition of his parishioners against him, mentioned earlier. Some of them, like the anti-clericalist Stepan Ushin and some of the younger and more Americanized Creoles, used this particular priest's faults to call for greater independence from Church authorities. Undoubtedly influenced by the way the local White Protestant congregation ran its affairs, and seeing a contradiction between the American political ideology they were beginning to share and the traditional authoritarianism of the Russian priests, these dissenters began to criticize the latter. The situation became so critical that by early fall 1885 the Alaska Consistory decided to remove Fr. Mitropol'skii from Sitka. For a while, services were conducted by the two psalmreaders, Sokolov and Dabovich, who continued Mitropol'skii's Sunday religious instruction of the Tlingit. By the end of that year about fifty of them had expressed their wish to be baptized. At that time a petition was sent to the Alaska Consistory expressing the wish of the Tlingit members of the Church to have a regular priest sent to them (DRHA, vol. 2:247). The fact that the governor of Alaska added his signature to this document indicates that at least some local U.S. officials were no longer supporting the Presbyterian mission only but were becoming sympathetic to other efforts to Christianize the Natives. When in the spring of 1886 Protoierei Vladimir Vechtomov was sent to Sitka by the San Francisco Consistory to try to solve the various crises precipitated by Fr. Mitropol'skii's actions, he was greeted by a large and enthusiastic group of Tlingit eager to become Orthodox. 244

6

The Massive Conversion to Orthodoxy During the Donskoi Era, 1886-95

n

Fr. Vladimir Vechtomov and the Conversion of the Clan Headmen

Lotoierei Vladimir Vechtomov, a member of the Alaska Consistory, spent only one month in Sitka, arriving in March and leaving in April of 1886. His impressive accomplishments in the area of Tlingit Christianization demonstrated the Native community's eagerness to join the Orthodox Church. In addition to dealing with the Tlingit, Vechtomov had to calm down the Creole parishioners, many of whom had been unhappy with Fr. Mitropol'skii. Several of these young rebels formed a group, headed by Ushin, who advocated the parishioners' taking over the administration of their church and operating without the priest, at least for a while.' In his attacks on the Alaska Consistory, Ushin invoked the 1867 Treaty between Russia and the United States, which he interpreted as a document granting lay Orthodox parish members ownership of the Church's property. He also pointed to the Presbyterian Church where congregation members could expel their ministers and exercised almost total control over the adminis. tration of their own church. Although the text of the treaty could be read that way, Vechtomov vehemently rejected such an interpretation and argued that only the Church authorities themselves could censor an ordained priest and that only they (as well as the Russian government, which paid the priest's salary), and not the parish, were the owners of the ecclesiastical property in Alaska. In addition the priest used the following argument: if St. Michael's parishioners wished to take control of their church, they had to involve the Tlingit members as well, since the Treaty did not differentiate between the Russian and the non-Russian Orthodox residents of Alaska. This was an effective way to threaten the rebels, since their anti -Tlingit prejudice was increasing in response to a rapid rise in the number of Indians in the parish.

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While Vechtomov did manage to calm the agitated parishioners down, he argued in his report to the Consistory (ARCA, D 339) that Sitka was in great need of an experienced and energetic priest from Russia. Because Mitropol'skii's active involvement in local American politics was resented by Church authorities as well as by some of the parishioners, Fr. Vladimir also suggested that a priest who could not speak English would work out better, since he would be forced to devote all of his energy to his clerical duties (ibid.). Having promised the Creoles to send them a priest in the near future, and having appointed Sergei Kostromitinov to be the parish's warden as well as a new committee of three to supervise the church's financial affairs, the protoierei turned his attention to the Tlingit. His first task was to satisfy their wish to have an Orthodox school for Native children reopen. According to Vechtomov's report (ibid.), the Orthodox Tlingit told him that they were not happy with either the public or the Presbyterian Sunday schools. While the former offered no religious instruction at all, the latter, in their view; did not teach the right kind of Christianity, forcing the children "to worship stones and dirty boards" instead of "holy icons." It is not entirely clear what this passage means, but I suspect that it reflected the wish of many Tlingit to have their children instructed in a more ritualized, symbolically rich kind of Christianity. Although Vechtomov was initially reluctant to open such a school because of a shortage of funds, having realized how strong and widespread the Tlingit interest in an Orthodox school was and having received some encouragement from local American officials (including the governor), he consented and appointed a teacher who was being paid out of some borrowed money. He then requested that the Consistory allocate $100 per year for the school. One of the issues that Fr. Vladimir felt strongly about was the need for the Orthodox school to provide quality instruction in the English language. He pointed out that while the psalmreaders Sokolov and Dabovich had once tried to teach English to the Indian children, their own poor command of that language gave the enemies of Orthodoxy ammunition in their attacks on the Church which they accused of trying to keep the Natives in a state of hostility toward the United States (ARCA, D 346). When the parish school finally reopened, it was attended by about twenty Orthodox Tlingit children and offered instruction in the following subjects: speaking, reading, and writing Russian (and some Church Slavonic), brief catechism, church singing, English, as well as some arithmetic and geography. In addition to the three Russian teachers (two of them deacons), Vechtomov hired a Tlingit interpreter named "David" (Kalchak?) who was also supposed to be a student at the school. Unfortunately, his frequent absence from the school forced the Russian teachers, who spoke no Tlingit, to limit instruction to

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teaching prayers in Slavonic and church singing. Despite this problem and the fact that attendance at the school varied from fifteen to twenty in the spring, when many Tlingit families were busy pursuing various subsistence activities away from Sitka, to forty in the fall, the new parish school began offering at least some basic Orthodox education for a certain segment of Sitka's Tlingit population (see fig. 3). Vechtomov's next task was to respond to the wishes of many Tlingit families to join the Russian Church. During his stay in Sitka, he visited most of the homes in the village, offering religious instruction and words of comfort. He also provided instruction for both the people being prepared for baptism and the recently baptized ones (Donskoi 1893:861-62). Thus, for the first time since the days of the RAC, an Orthodox clergyman "showed respect" to the Tlingit by visiting their homes and taking the time to speak to them. Vechtomov's efforts produced immediate results. During his month-long stay in town he managed to baptize fifty-two Native people. His most important accomplishment, however, was the fact that Annax60ts and K' alyaan, the heads of the two senior house groups who were also influential leaders of the two major local clans (Kaagwaantaan of the Eagle moiety and Kiks.adi of the Raven moiety, respectively) and were perceived and treated as the paramount local leaders by the Americans, were among the neophytes. The two men not only joined the Russian Church along with their large families but agreed to be married in it, which very few Tlingit had done before. Clergymen as well as other prominent local "Russians" served as their godparents and witnesses. The ceremonies of Annax60ts's and K'alyaan's baptism and marriage were witnessed by the entire Creole membership of the parish as well as some prominent Americans, while the local newspaper commented favorably on these events (The Alaskan 3-27-1886, 4-10-1886). In addition to these two prominent Sitka Natives, several other local aristocrats and Indian policemen were baptized and then married in the church, including a Kiks.adi aristocrat and the head of the KaKatjaa Hit, Foma (Thomas) Kichgaaw (Bennett), and a high-ranking L'uknaK.adi man named Kitka. Their weddings and especially the "White Man's style" feasts that followed, attended by prominent Creoles and even a few Americans, were performed to demonstrate to the town's Anglo-American and Russian-American establishment as well as the Orthodox clergy that its Native leadership was now following the path of progress and was eager to appropriate the ways of the non-Tlingit. At the same time, these banquets gave the Tlingit aristocracy an opportunity to demonstrate its wealth and generosity to its nonNative guests, thus claiming equality with them. 2 What is remarkable, however, is the fact that although Annax60ts, K'alyaan, and several other prominent 247

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converts had been employed by the United States government as Indian policemen and had been courted for quite some time by the Presbyterians, they chose to cast their lot with the much less politically powerful Orthodox Church. I believe that, from their point of view, the benefits of such an alliance were not "political" in the Western sense but did bring the neophytes spiritual power and blessing (la~eitl). Thus during the celebration of the feast day of the Annunciation, which in 1886 took place soon after the two clan leaders converted, the Indian village was symbolically linked with the "Russian Town" when a traditional religious procession included the former in its route (see fig. 2).3 A special prayer service was conducted at Annax60ts's house as well as at the house of a prominent Kiks.adi leader~ underscoring the Russian Church's "respect" for the Tlingit aristocracy (Ushin's Diary, 4-6-1886 in AReA, [) 434). The conversion of several of Sitka's most high-ranking leaders and clan heads dramatically improved the Russian Church's image in the eyes of the Tlingit community. The newly converted aanyat~'i not only directly encouraged their numerous kin to become Orthodox but made the heads of rival clans and lineages feel envious of the new power and prestige that conversion was bestowing upon them. From that time on, older aristocrats and their families began joining the Church in large numbers, so that by 1889 the majority of Sitka's Tlingit population had become Orthodox. The task of baptizing them and instructing them in the basics of Orthodoxy fell upon Sitka's new resident priest who arrived in the fall of 1886.

Fr. Donskoi's Arrival and His First Years in Sitka Having heeded Vechtomov's advice, the Alaska Consistory sent a young priest, Vladimir Donskoi, to occupy the position vacated by Fr. Mitropol'skii. Born in either 1859 or 1860 in Siberia, he, like so many other Russian missionaries, had graduated from the Irkutsk Seminary (in 1882) and then served as a priest and parish school teacher at the Petropavlovsk cathedral on Kamchatka. A dedicated parish priest accustomed to working in a frontier environment, Donskoi volunteered to serve in Alaska, which many Russian clergymen continued to view as the end of the world (see fig. 4). His arrival was greeted with considerably apprehension by Sitka's Creole parishioners, especially those influenced by Ushin and his followers. Thus the first few religious services conducted by Fr. Vladimir were attended mainly by Creole women and the "Kolosh." Donskoi further antagonized the "Russians" by his speech to the Tlingit in which he emphasized that his primary task was to work toward their "enlightenment." Ushin, who reported this information

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(ARCA, D 435), claimed that Donskoi kept saying that he was a missionary priest for the "Kolosh" and that he was not interested in the "Russian" members of the church. Ushin was most likely exaggerating, but his information did reflect Creole resentment of the special attention that the Church was suddenly paying to the "savages" and apprehension about the rise in the Native membership in St. Michael's parish. One rumor circulated in the "Russian" community claimed that Donskoi had allegedly said to someone that it would have been better if "all of the White parishioners would leave the Church and only the Kolosh remained" (ibid.). While Donskoi's conduct clearly demonstrated that he cared equally about his "White" and Indian parishioners, he did not conceal his disappointment with the poor moral conditions of most of the Creoles, on the one hand, and his enthusiasm about the rising tide of Tlingit conversions, on the other. This notion, first introduced by Donskoi, that despite their persisting pagan beliefs and practices the Tlingit neophytes were more devoted to the Orthodox Church than the Creoles, who had been brought up in the Church and should have made better Christians, continued to be expressed by Russian clergymen throughout the late nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth centuries. In a letter written in 1897, two years after his return to Russia, Donskoi described the Sitka Creoles to another priest in the following manner, "As far as their moral characteristics and spiritual state are concerned, the Creoles are worse than our Russian lower class urban dwellers [meshchane] and peasants. These are freethinking and somewhat rude, insolent and undisciplined people who do not easily submit to the Church's moral authority" (A H L, Vinokouroff Collection; MS 81, box 31, folder l2). In his earliest encounters with the Creoles, Fr. Donskoi criticized them harshly for poor church attendance as well as for working on Sundays and Church feast days and pointed out that such behavior not only embarrassed the Russian Church in front of the local Americans but set a bad example for the recently baptized Tlingit. When his Creole audience responded by accusing the "Kolosh" of bad conduct during services and maintaining their old pagan customs, he pointed out that more tolerance had to be shown to new converts (Ushin's Diary, 1888; ARCA, D 435). Fr. Vladimir also displeased his Creole parishioners by categorically refusing to allow any racial segregation within the church. For example, when in 1887 a group of Creoles who had made donations to cover the cost of repairing the Orthodox cemetery demanded that a separate burial ground be established for the "Kolosh," he rejected their proposal and insisted that all of the parishioners work together on the cemetery restoration project (ibid.). Thus his attitude contrasted sharply with that of the Presbyterian clergy who allowed the establishment of a separate "White" congregation. 4

249

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In his efforts to strengthen the clergy's authority in the parish and attract more Tlingit converts, Donskoi relied heavily on Sergei Kostromitinov who had recently been appointed starosta (warden) of the cathedral by Fr. Vechtomov, a position he continued to occupy for about thirty years. As Ushin's diary indicates (ibid.), Kostromitinov's ascent was resented by at least some of the "Russian" parishioners who must have been jealous of his successful career as a businessman and a government employee. In the 1880s the Kostromitinovs were probably one of the wealthiest "Russian" families in town. Because of Sergei's (George's) good command of English and his government service, he was one of the few Russian Americans who were part of Sitka's "better class" and were actively involved in its political and social life (Pierce 1990:262-63). At the same time, Kostromitinov's ability to speak Tlingit and his ties with the Native community, developed during his service as government interpreter, were quite useful in Donskoi's missionary activities. Feeling more secure in Sitka than many of the less fortunate "Russians," Kostromitinov was not opposed to the rise of the Tlingit parish membership. In fact, as Donskoi wrote in one of his letters· to the consistory, when he began baptizing the Tlingit in the fall of 1886, Sergei and his family were the only "Russians" sympathetic to his activity (Donskoi's File, ARCA, B 6) (see fig. 2). To make the ritual of baptism even more attractive to the Tlingit Fr. Donskoi introduced various Russian customs, including the solemn ringing of cathedral bells, into it. Although prebaptismal instruction was rather limited, neophytes were encouraged to attend weekly religious lectures given by the priest in the cathedral on Sunday afternoons. These poucheniia, which included the use of visual aids and emphasized singing (so popular with the Tlingit), were well attended, and it is there that the Sitka Tlingit acquired much of their understanding of the basics of Orthodoxy (Ushin's Diary, 11-3/4-1886, ARCA, D 434; Donskoi's Journal of Church Services, ARCA, D 409). In 1886-87 aristocrats continued to join the Russian Church; prominent among them was one of the wealthiest and most influential Kaagwaantaan leaders, Ioann L.aanteech (1843?1908), the head of the Deix X'awool Hit house group, who after the death of Annah60ts in 1890 became his clan's (and even the entire village's) main spokesman in its dealings with the American establishment (see below). Once most of the high-ranking Sitkans had become Orthodox, leaders of neighboring Tlingit

Creole and Tlingit parishioners taking part in a Russian Orthodox feast day procession, Sitka, 1886-90. Sergei I. Kostromitinov (Kostrometinoff) is the man walking in front of the procession to the viewer's right of the boy with a cross. (Photo by

FIG. 2.

Edward De Groff; AHL, PCA 91-38) 251

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commumtles, anxious to keep up with them, also began visiting the Russian priest and asking to be baptized. In May of 1887, for example, Kichnaal.l£, a prominent aristocrat, the head of one of the houses of the Deisheetaan clan of Angoon as well as the local Indian marshal, was baptized along with his wife whom he then married in an elaborate church wedding. This action not only gave him access to the power and prestige offered by the Russian Church but helped strengthen his ties with influential members of both the Tlingit and the Creole communities in Sitka. K'alyaan himself was the master of ceremonies at this wedding, and receptions were held at the house of the interpreter David Kalchak (Jake), as well as that of Sergei Kostromitinov (The Alaskan 5-14-1887; Ushin's Diary, ARCA, D 335) (see chapter 8). Baptisms and weddings of prom inent Tlingit continued to be attended by the members of the local AngloAmerican establishment, which could not but please the aristocracy. Donskoi's proselytizing paid off quickly-within two weeks of his arrival in Sitka he managed to baptize 57 Tlingit (A RCA, D 330), and by the end ofl886 the 300 "Inorodtsy" ("Natives," as they were listed in the Confessional Records) already outnumbered the 215 people listed as "parish members" (i.e., Russiansl Creoles) (AReA, D 414). By the end of 1887 the number of Orthodox Inorodtsy increased to 623 (although some of them were residents of other Tlingit communities, such as Angoon/Kiliisnoo, Hoonah, and Juneau) while the size of the Creole membership remained unchanged. 5 Within three years of Fr. Donskoi's arrival in Sitka, all of its "pagan" as well as a number of its Presbyterian Tlingit had joined the Orthodox Church. By this time Orthodoxy had become the denomination of somewhere between two-thirds and three-quarters of the town's Native population. While many of the Tlingit themselves were clearly eager to join the Russian Church, Donskoi's willingness to "show them respect," which contrasted sharply with the treatment they received from Fr. Mitropol'skii, undoubtedly contributed to the rapid pace of Native conversion. Among Donskoi's most important innovations, which undoubtedly endeared him to the Tlingit, was his participation in the memorial feasts held in the village following funerals. While by the late 1880s, under pressure from the American officials as well as the clergy, the Sitka Tlingit had pretty much abandoned cremation and replaced it with burial, they retained a great deal of control over the postfuneral rites. These included the final memorial potlatch and one or several intermediary memorial feasts, beginning with the one held immediately after the burial. It is the last of these, which the Orthodox clergy considered appropriate and referred to by the Russian word pominki, that Fr. Vladimir began attending. His presence undoubtedly forced the Tlingit to eliminate or modify some of the traditional elements of the 252

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memorial ritual such as the smoking of tobacco, some of which was burned for the benefit of the recently deceased person's spirit. According to Ushin, in the late 1880s Tlingit pominki were conducted "in the White Man's style" (ARCA, D 435). This meant that the participants sat at tables and were served store-bought food. The priest would undoubtedly offer a prayer in memory of the deceased and bless the food, while the rest of the ritual was most likely conducted in Tlingit, with speeches of condolence by the guests reciprocated by the hosts' words of gratitude. We do not know whether traditional mourning songs were performed, but I suspect that tobacco smoking and the distribution of small gifts among the guests took place after the priest left or at a subsequent memorial. According to Ushin (ibid.), Donskoi's participation in the pominki "was earning him praise from the Kolosh." This means that the Tlingit appreciated the "honor and respect" shown to them by the top local official of the Russian Church and the additional condolence and comforting he offered to the mourners through his prayers and kind words, and were willing to modify their traditional ceremony in order to accommodate him. While they changed some of the surface elements of the memorial rite, its essential structure and ideology remained the same (cf. Kan 1987; also see chapter 9 for more details). Orthodoxy's concern with remembering the dead was undoubtedly a major factor that attracted non-Christian and some Presbyterian Tlingit to the Russian Church. Fr. Donskoi encouraged elaborate funeral processions, accompanied by the ringing of church bells. 6 In fact, Orthodox funerals became so popular with Sitka's Native people that in 1888, when a Tlingit hospital worker who had been a Presbyterian died, her coffin was taken to the cemetery, with. bells ringing, "imitating the Russian custom" (Ushin's Diary, March 1888, ARCA, D 435). While many of the Creoles continued to snub their "Kolosh" co-parishioners, sacred ties of godparenthood encouraged at least some of them (especially the women) to take part in the Native funeral processions (Ushin, ibid.), which was undoubtedly appreciated by the Tlingit. In addition to participating personally in Tlingit funerals and pominki, Fr. Donskoi introduced new ways of memorializing and helping the souls of their departed relatives by teaching them to pray for the dead and encouraging them to acquire special memorial books (sing. pomiannik) listing the baptismal names of these relatives, which were given to the priest whenever special prayers for the dead were being offered throughout the Orthodox year (see chapter 9). Given high mortality in the Tlingit community in the late 1880s (due to tuberculosis and other new diseases), the Church's "love and respect" for the dead was especially welcome.? The Tlingit acceptance of the Orthodox mortuary and memorial practices did 253

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not mean that they were willing to give up those pre-Christian ones that were seen as especially "respectful" or beneficial for the deceased. Thus, while they had been forced to put an end to cremation, many families placed the body in two coffins to keep it warm and put inside of them food and other items necessary for the spirit's journey to the "village of the dead" (Ushin's Diary, D 435). The Russian priest undoubtedly knew about these practices but, in contrast to the Presbyterian missionaries, appears not to have objected to them. Donskoi's willingness to indulge the neophytes as well as the fact that he must have encountered similar practices among Siberian Russian peasants and members of the urban lower class might explain his tolerance (cf. Worobec 1994). Other "pagan" ritual acts that were still observed by at least some of the Tlingit families, such as the removal of the corpse from the house through an opening in the back wall, aimed at preventing the ghost from returning, must have been concealed from Fr. Vladimir (Bugbee 1893:195). In addition to showing special respect to the Tlingit dead, Donskoi frequently brought various sacred substances to the villages, seen by the Tlingit as major sources of spiritual power (latseen) and blessing (la;c;.eitl) (Kan 1979-95; see chapter 9). This was another major factor that drew an increasing number of Native Sitkans to Orthodoxy. Thus during the winter feast day of Theophany (Kreshchenie) , when water was blessed by the priest during a special service, Donskoi brought it into the village to bless the houses and leave some of it for the sick (U shin's Diary, ARC A, D 435). While his Presbyterian rivals offered to heal the body by using the "White Man's" medicine, his own Church introduced a whole array of sacred substances and objects which were believed to heal the body as well as the soul. The latter had become as popular with the Sitka Tlingit as the medicine given to them by the Presbyterian physicians and the treatment they offered. Thus, according to the skeptical Ushin (Diary, February 1889, D 436), "the superstitious Kolosh call a Russian priest rather than a doctor to help a sick person, preferring sorcery to regular forms of curing." What Ushin failed to understand was that the Orthodox mode of healing made a lot of sense to the conservative Tlingit; even when they did benefit from the American physician's help, they still wanted to obtain some powerful An60shi medicine as well. It should be pointed out that Fr. Donskoi himself encouraged this attitude. During a religious meeting with the Tlingit in 1892, he told them that an epidemic disease that was ravishing Sitka at that time was God's punishment for their pagan ways of spending church feast days (ARCA, D 410).8 On another occasion he repeated this assertion and then argued that confession was the best thing a Christian could do when he was ill. His subordinate, Deacon Iaroshevich, once explained to the Tlingit that when a Christian fell ill, he had to turn to God first 254

CONVERSION TO ORTHODOXY, 1886-95 and only then call a doctor, rather than do it the other way around (ibid.).9 In addition to holy water, body crosses and icons were considered by the Tlingit to possess healing power. Thus in 1884, when the church experienced a shortage of icons that it usually distributed among the parishioners, sick people in the village borrowed icons from each other (Fr. A. Kashevarov's letter to the bishop; ARCA, D 342). By the 1900S most Orthodox Tlingit homes had at least one icon. In fact, even when an Orthodox family joined a Protestant church, it usually retained its icons and often continued praying in front of them (Kan 1979-95). Similarly, many converts from Orthodoxy to Presbyterianism continued to wear crosses around their necks, even though this was strictly forbidden by the Presbyterians (Donskoi's Report to Bishop Ziorov for 1893 [draft]; ARCA, D 432). It should be mentioned, however, that besides offering spiritual healing, Fr. Donskoi did occasionally give medicine or money for buying it to seriously ill natives. As in the early 1880s, Orthodox Christmas and Easter feast days continued to play an important role in the Tlingit annual cycle. In fact, during the Donskoi era, they became central to Tlingit social and spiritual life (see chapter 9 for more details). A relationship of reciprocal exchange that Christmas and Easter observances helped establish between individual members of the Tlingit community and their Creole godparents as well as the clergy continued to be a major factor contributing to these holy days' popularity among the Tlingit. Ushin, the eternal cynic, made the following observation on this subject: "In the last two years savages have accepted baptism not only because of the free feed given to them by the priest and their godparents [after the baptismal ceremony] but also because of the feasting offered to them at the homes of the priest and their godparents during the annual holidays, such as Christmas and others" (Ushin's Diary, June 1888; ARCA, D 435). Under Fr. Donskoi the distribution of gifts among Tlingit children became a standard part of the Orthodox Christmas celebration. In addition to collecting money for this distribution from the Creole parishioners (which many of them resented), the Church began receiving donations and money from the governor and other American officials who approved of this practice (which was also observed by the Presbyterians) (Ushin's Diary, ARCA, D 435). Like the Christmas banquets offered by the Tlingit to their own local and out-of-town guests, the ones sponsored by the Church resembled indigenous feasts in several ways. The Tlingit, acting as guests at a traditional feast, sang Christmas hymns, while the clergy, acting as proper Tlingit hosts, distributed apples, candy, cigarettes, and other items among them. Easter (Pascha), the most important feast day of the Orthodox calendar, became especially popular with the Native Sitkans. By the late 1880s it began to serve as a major marker in the Tlingit calendar: most Native families departed for 255

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their annual subsistence expeditions only after this celebration. Occasionally even important traditional practices (e.g., peace ceremonies) were postponed until after Easter (ibid.). In preparation for Pascha, the houses in the Sitka village were being cleaned and repainted. Following Easter Sunday, visits lasting several days were a major highlight of the entire celebration. During the Pascha of 1887 Ushin (ibid.) wrote in his diary that The Orthodox Kolosh of both sexes are all dressed up [in European clothing] and are visiting their godparents to offer their congratulations. For this they receive eggs, pieces of kulich and pascha [another special Easter food, resembling cheesecake, brought to the church to be blessed [ ... and simply bread. They have come to like these Orthodox customs. . .. They are also introducing them in their own homes-they decorate the tables with kulich, eggs, roasted meat, butter, and even candy. Visitors are offered tea'and coffee with milk. Today they are making their own rounds and tomorrow they are receiving visitors.

Prominent among the "Russian" homes visited by the Tlingit was that of Fr. Donskoi where numerous Easter cakes always awaited the guests. The third day after Easter was usually set aside for Native guests. Although some of the "Russians" undoubtedly continued to resent having to entertain their "Kolosh" visitors, out of respect for Orthodoxy most of them did not dare to withdraw from those holiday observances which brought them together with the Tlingit. For example, the annual Annunciation Day procession, which began in the "Russian town" and then moved into the "Ranche," was always attended by a majority of the Creole population. By offering prayers and blessings in front of each Orthodox home, the clergy emphasized the equal status of its Creole and "Kolosh" parishioners, which was something the latter rarely experienced in the Presbyterian church.lO

The Further Spread of Orthodoxy in Sitka and Beyond (1889-95) By 1889 not only a substantial majority of Native Sitkans converted to Orthodoxy but so did some of the leading aristocrats and their kin from several neighboring Tlingit communities. Especially anxious not to miss out on the benefits offered by the An60shi church to their Sitka relatives and rivals were the people of the X60tsnoowu kwaan. While the history of the Orthodox Church in that area is discussed in detail in chapter 8, here it is important to mention the X60tsnoowu people's requests for a church and a priest as an indication of Orthodoxy's rising popularity among the Tlingit.

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When KichnaalK, a X6otsnoowu aristocrat and the head of the Shdeen Hit of the Deisheetaan clan, came to Sitka to be baptized in the spring of 1887, he brought a large group of relatives and neighbors with him. After that a steady stream of people of that kwaan visited Sitka to join the Russian Church. For several years their names appeared in St. Michael's parish records. After 1887 X60tsnoowu Tlingit, most of whom were living in the village of Angoon in the winter and on nearby Killisnoo island in the summer, also began demanding that the Russian Church build them a chapel and send a resident priest. They were definitely not interested in remaining members of the Sitka parish, since that would have placed them in a subordinate position vis-a-vis the Sitkans. Finally, in the summer of 1889, St. Andrew's Chapel was built in Killisnoo. Once that happened, similar requests began to be made by the Tlingit of Hoonah, Yakutat, Juneau, Taku, Chilkat, and several other communities, whose members had been coming to Sitka (and later to Killisnoo) since 1887 to be baptized. While most of them belonged to the Northern Tlingit kwaans, Donskoi also reported some interest in Orthodoxy among the more distant Tlingit of Kake, Klawock, Wrangell, and even the Kaigani and the Queen Charlotte Islands Haida (Donskoi's reports to Bishop Vladimir; 11-11-1889 and 12-28-1890; ARCA, B 6). Some of the Native converts began to act as Orthodox proselytizers themselves. In 1893 a Presbyterian minister working in Hoonah wrote to Sheldon Jackson that when "his" people visited Killisnoo they were met by the local ones standing in their own canoes near the shore and asked to join the Russian Church (p H s; R G 19, box 10, file 3). Donskoi wrote to Bishop Nikolai in his November 8, 1891, report (ARCA, D 432), "As the only Orthodox priest in this area, I have been receiving delegations from the Native communities of the entire Kolosh area, which demand that I visit their villages to preach and perform baptism .... At the present time, one could say with certainty that almost the entire Indian population of southeastern Alaska is ready to accept the Orthodox faith." While Fr. Vladimir's statement appears to be overly optimistic, there is enough evidence to indicate that during the late 1880s and early 1890S Orthodoxy's popularity among the Tlingit was increasing rapidly. Although rivalry with and envy of the Sitka and the X60tsnoowu kwaans were undoubtedly important factors behind the pro-Orthodox sentiment that swept through much of the Lingit aani in the early 1890s, deeper socioeconomic and ideological reasons for the widespread desire to join the Russian church also existed. By that time most of the adult Tlingit had become in one way or another involved in the market economy, many of them quite actively, while many Tlingit children were attending public schools. With their interaction with EuroAmericans steadily rising, the Tlingit became increasingly concerned with being 257

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seen and treated as "civilized" equals rather than backward "Siwashes." Christianity was one of the major aspects of Dleit Kaa ways that the Tlingit saw as marks of "progress." However, as I have already shown in chapter 5, membership in the Presbyterian Church had many disadvantages, the greatest of them being the missionaries' heavy-handed control over their Indian parishioners' social and religious life. In contrast to the Presbyterians, the Russian clergy was not only somewhat more tolerant of the "old customs" but also simply too weak politically and too small in numbers to do much about them, except occasionally voicing its disapproval of the most blatant manifestations of "heathenism." At the same time Orthodoxy clearly offered a variety of spiritual benefits that were unavailable in any other church. The depth of the pro-Orthodox sentiment was manifested most dramatically in a number of prophetic visions and other shamanistic experiences, occurring during this period, which encouraged the Tlingit to join the Russian Church. While such phenomena undoubtedly occurred in several communities, the best-documented one took place in Juneau and is worth discussing here in some detail. Juneau was established by the Americans in 1880 after gold had been discovered in the area. Four years later, when large-scale gold mining began on nearby Douglas Island, Juneau became a bustling frontier town which soon overshadowed Sitka as the leading Euro-American settlement in Alaska. The town's EuroAmerican population rose rapidly, reaching 1,100 in 1890. A few of its non-Indian residents were "Russians" from Sitka who came to work in the mines. Soon after Juneau's establishment, the Tlingit from the nearby Auk and Taku kwaans began working as gold miners and in various other capacities. As a result, the Indian population in Juneau and Douglas in the 1880s was as high as 600 or more (De Armond 1980). Among them were several Orthodox Tlingit people from Sitka and Killisnoo. Since 1886-87 visitors from Juneau had been coming to St. Michael's Cathedral to be baptized and in 1889-90 several leading aristocrats from the Auk and the Taku kwaans took that step. In May of 1888 a highly respected elder of the Gaana~.adi clan of the Taku who headed the Salmon Hole House, Aanyaalahaash, was baptized by Fr. Donskoi, the priest himself and Sergei Kostromitinov's mother acting as his godparents (Donskoi's report to Bishop Vladimir, 10-9-1889; AReA, B 6). A real breakthrough, however, occurred in 1890 when one of the most influential aristocrats of the Auk kwaan and the head of the Big Dipper House of the L' eeneidi clan, Yeesganaal~, in a proper Tlingit fashion, informed Fr. Donskoi through L.aanteech, a member of his wife's clan who had already become quite active in the Sitka parish, that he wished to be baptized. Yeesganaal~'s son, who lived in Sitka and carried a high-ranking Kaagwaantaan

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name Yaakwaan, had been an Orthodox Christian since 1890." As YeesganaalK's granddaughter, Mrs. Cecilia Kunz (Kintoow) of the L'uknax.adi clan, told me, the Auk leader told the Russian priest, "IfI am baptized, I want a chur:ch built for my people in Juneau" (Kan 1979-95). Mrs. Kunz also explained that most of the Juneau area Tlingit were waiting for their leaders to make "the first move," and once they had become Christians, everyone else wanted to follow them (ibid.). According to Fr. Donskoi's report to Bishop Nikolai, dated February 2, 1891, YeesgaanaalK was already preparing all of his people to be baptized during that year. In another report, written eleven months later, he mentioned that he and the other 10carTlingit leaders were trying hard to keep their people from joining the Presbyterians and the Catholics (ARCA, D 4342). When the bishop of Alaska, Nikolai Ziorov, finally visited Juneau in July of 1892, he was met by YeesgaanalK, Aanyaalahaash, and other Auk and Taku leaders, all of whom expressed a strong wish to be baptized and to have a church built for their people, promising to donate land, lumber, and labor. During that visit, YeesgaanalK and his wife were baptized and given the names "Dimitrii" and "Elizaveta." Their marriage was then solemnized by the church (Ziorov 1893:85; Kan 1979-95). At first Bishop Nikolai could not understand why the Juneau aristocracy was so eager to become Orthodox and to have their own church, but he then learned about a "miraculous" recent event in the community which had inspired this strong pro-Orthodox sentiment. According to one of the accounts of this miracle, A young Indian man had a vision. A venerable old man came to him and advised him to go to Sitka and be baptizedY The young man followed his advice. A few years later he became sick, and on his deathbed he called for the elders of his tribe and told them that the same venerable old man came to see him again and told him to advise all other Indians to be baptized. The young man died but his message did not die with him. Other Indians started to have the same vision, and the urge to be baptized spread like a wild fire (Ziorov 1893:85).

Ziorov's account is confirmed by several Native sources, which suggests that this event may actually have taken place (Kan 1979-95). It indicates that an interest in Orthodox was strong and widespread, not only among the aristocracy but among the rest of the Tlingit population of the Juneau area and other kwaans. In fact, I was able to record several accounts in Angoon and Hoonah which reported similar incidents involving shamans' encounters with old men dressed and acting like Orthodox priests. In one of them, an Angoon 12ft' acquires a "Russian power" which enables him to speak Russian and learn about Ortho259

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dox rituals without ever having been to Sitka (Kan 1991a). Another story of this kind was told to me in the village of Kake, although this one referred to a generic form of Christianity rather than Orthodoxy. In this account, a local shaman responds to a devastating small pox epidemic by encouraging his people to abstain from work on the "seventh day" and pray to the "Great Spirit," with whom he had already been in contact (ibid.). This entire genre of stories about Tlingit shamans' predicting the coming of Christianity, and specifically Orthodoxy, appears to have been quite popular since the late nineteenth century, if not earlier, and continues to serve as proof of the "old time medicine men's" wisdom as well as a way to legitimize the Tlingit abandonment of shamanism in favor of the White Man's religion (ibid.; see chapter 11).13 While none of the existing accounts describes the young man from Juneau as a shaman, the nature of his experience and the manner of its transmission to the community is a typical shamanistic one; in fact, lay persons close to death were also believed to be able to journey to the land of the dead and return, bringing important information which was then allegedly used, for example, to create new mortuary rites or modify existing ones. The Juneau incident demonstrates that, once the leading local aristocrats had joined the Russian Church, the rest of the community was eager to take the same step. In fact, according to Mrs. Kunz, the young man who had this miraculous vision happened to be a relative of Dimitrii Yeesgaanal~, which undoubtedly gave his message additional weight. The Russian bishop, who came from a cultural tradition which took visions seriously, believed the story of the young Juneau man and interpreted it as the work of God (Ziorov 1893:85). He finally heeded the local people's request and ordered that the church be built in their community. St. Nicholas's Church, erected on L'eeneidi land (provided by Yees~aanal~) with money donated mainly by the Orthodox Missionary Society of Russia, with smaller sums also contributed by the "Russian" and Indian people of Sitka and Juneau, was finally consecrated by the clergy on June 12, 1894. In 1894 the St. Nicholas parish consisted of twenty-five "Russians," seven Greeks, and one hundred and twentythree Tlingit. Its first priest was Fr. Ioann Bortnovskii and its first starosta, Dr. Il'ia Kusher, a well-to-do Russian pharmacist; Yees~aanal~14 and Aanyaalahaash served as the trustees. While the influence of Orthodoxy was spreading from the parishes at Sitka and Angoon/Killisnoo to Yakutat and Hoonah, the newly established Juneau parish became a magnet for the Tlingit people from the Chilkat kwaan as well as for the Interior Tlingit of British Columbia who came to Juneau to trade with their coastal relatives (see chapter 7; cf. McClellan 1981:479). However, these communities' demands for their own churches and priests could not be satisfied 260

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due to the diocese's poverty and the shortage of clergy (see chapter 7). Given this situation, in the early and mid-1890s Donskoi changed the emphasis of his work from bringing more Tlingit into the Church to strengthening the existing converts' commitment to and understanding of Orthodoxy. Although Fr. Vladimir's reports to his superiors, written in the period from 1890 to 1895 praised his Tlingit parishioners for being more diligent in fulfilling their Christian duties than the Creoles, he admitted that the former remained "rather reluctant to abandon their customs and habits" (Donskoi's report to Bishop Nikolai on the State of the St. Michael parish in 1894; ARCA, D 432). Prominent among these were polygamy, adultery, and the refusal of m~my of them to be married in church, as well as "heathen dances in honor of the dead" (i.e., memorial potlatches). The priest must have been particularly troubled when Native celebrations took precedence over church services and other activities, as was the case, for example, in November of 1891 when the Sitkan Tlingit asked him to postpone his weekly religious meetings because they were busy entertaining their guests from the X60tsnoowu kwaan (Donskoi's Journal of Religious Activities, 1890-92; ARCA, D 410). Even more upsetting to Fr. Donskoi was the fact that most of his "Kolosh" parish members engaged in "heathen dancing and singing" on Christmas Eve, when unbaptized visitors from Angoon arrived in town to conduct a traditional peace ceremony (ibid).15 While Fr. Vladimir was deeply disturbed by this persistence of "paganism" among the Sitka Tlingit, he was equally critical of the abovementioned Christmastide (Sviatki) masquerading, which for many years had been an important part of the Russian community's social life and eventually spread to the local Tlingit and even the Americans. What bothered him most was the fact that instead of attending frequent church services during the weeks following the birth of Christ, his "Russian" and "Kolosh" parishioners were busy going to masked balls and consuming large quantities of liquor. He was particularly sensitive to Tlingit drinking because, as he wrote, it gave the Presbyterians and other enemies of Orthodoxy an opportunity to accuse the Russian clergy of being too lenient in that area, in contrast to their own mission which was extremely strict about the use of alcohol. As in Russia itself, these festivities had always been an integral part of the local culture and were, thus, very difficult to stamp out or even limit. Tlingit enthusiasm about these celebrations could be explained by their general interest in "imitating the White Man's" social activities, especially by the use of masks and costumes which had always played a key role in indigenous ceremonies as well. In addition, Christmastide celebrations coincided with the traditional potlatch season. In fact, it appears that when out-of-town guests arrived in the Sitka village in the winter, they often joined their hosts not only in

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potlatching but in "White Man's style" Christmas parties and masquerades. Despite the resistance of both the Creole and the Tlingit communities, thanks to his persistent preaching, Fr. Vladimir was able to reduce the extent of partying during Christmastide and especially the amount of drinking that was taking place. Nevertheless, neither he nor his successors were ever able to eradicate this local tradition altogether. In fact, some Alaska-born clergymen themselves took part in these festivities (ibid.). In addition to criticizing such improper behavior during the Christmas season, Fr. Donskoi spoke out against his "Kolosh" parishioners' "unchristian behavior" during the weeks following Easter. In this case, it was most likely excessive drinking rather than some indigenous ceremonies that he was criticizing (ibid.). To combat such violations of the spirit of Orthodoxy, Fr. Donskoi used several methods. First of all, he made regular religious instruction a major part of the Tlingit parishioners' life. In addition to religious lectures delivered to the Tlingit on Sunday afternoons inside the cathedral, Fr. Donskoi and his subordinates conducted discussions of religious subjects (sing. sobesedovanie) once or twice a week in one of the lineage houses in the Sitka village}6 In addition to explaining major Orthodox beliefs and concepts as well as key episodes from the Old and the New Testaments, the clergy used these meetings to teach the neophytes to recite and especially to sing the basic prayers and hymns. After sending a series of requests to the Consistory, Donskoi was able to purchase a slide projector which made his well"attended meetings17 even more popular, not only with the Orthodox Natives but with some of the Presbyterian ones as well (Donskoi's letters to Bishop Vladimir; 10-9-1889 and 12-7-1889; ARCA, B 6; Donskoi's report to Bishop Vladimir, 11-8-1891; ARCA, D 432). Fr. Vladimir also used the weekly religious meetings to encourage notorious drinkers to pledge to abstain from alcohol and to criticize the Tlingit for continuing to believe in witchcraft and to venerate the spirits of the dead (Donskoi's Journal of Religious Services for 1893; ARCA, D 410; see also chapter 7). An important new institution that emerged out of these religious meetings was the Tlingit choir which, along with the Russian one, began taking part in church services during Christmas of 1891. In addition to singing in Church Slavonic, it performed a number of key prayers in Tlingit. The latter had been translated by Donskoi in cooperation with his new Tlingit interpreter who replaced David Kalchak in 1887. His name was Mikhail Sinx'iyeil (or Michael Church), and he was a member of the Sun House of the Kiks.adi clan. Born about 1870, he became Orthodox in 1881. Unlike Kalchak, whose command of Russian was rather limited, Sinx'iyeil spoke that language well and was familiar with the Orthodox ritual, so that he was able to assist Fr. Vladimir when the

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priest administered the sacraments in the village. In addition he served as interpreter in the "Kolosh" school and during the weekly religious meetings in the village. Like most other Tlingit interpreters who worked for the Russian Church before or after him, this man was unable to support his family on the meager salary that the Consistory was able to pay him. Consequently he had to take on other jobs and was often absent from Sitka, which interfered a great deal with the Church's missionary work since none of the Sitka clergy, including Donskoi, could speak enough Tlingit to communicate with the Native parishioners on their own.'8 Despite this major handicap, the Russian clergy's efforts to use the Tlingit language in services and especially the creation of a Tlingit choir were, undoubtedly, another major factor that attracted so many Tlingit people to it. It appears that Donskoi either did not have access to Nadezhdin's translations or found them inadequate. In any event, he and Sinx'iyeil undertook a major project involving the translation of not only the main Orthodox prayers but large portions of the Old and the New Testaments as well. The former were published in 1895 in Sitka and bore Donskoi's name only; the latter, however, published in 1901 under the title A Short History of the Old and the New Testaments, bore his name as well as that of his "Kolosh interpreter Mikhail Sinx'iyeil." By 1892 part of this work had already been completed, since Donskoi's report to Bishop Nikolai, written in the summer of that year, contains a request for an award for Sinx'iyeil for "his contribution to the cause of converting the Kolosh Indians to Orthodoxy." The report also mentions that Sinx'iyeil should be appointed the church's watchman, so that he would not have to look for another job and could continue his translation project (ARCA, D 339). Unfortunately this talented man died in 1894 without completing his work. ' 9 Cooperation between a well-educated Russian priest and a gifted Tlingit interpreter produced a set of texts that tended to make more sense to the Tlingit people than Nadezhdin's earlier translations. 2o The new translations also reflect changes that had taken place in the Tlingit language between the middle and the late nineteenth century. Thus, for example, Donskoi's and Sinx'iyeil's texts contain such loan words from English as "satady" for "Saturday," "khondret" for "hundred," and "daana" for "money" (from "dollar"). The most important change is Sinx'iyeil's substitute of the new Tlingit term for "God," Dikee AanJs.aawu (lit. "headman up above") for the more culturally meaningful term Haa Shag6~n, used by Veniaminov and Nadezhdin (see chapter 4). It is not clear whether the term Dikee Aanktlawu was coined by the Orthodox or the Protestant missionaries, but by the late nineteenth century, it had definitely become the standard term for the Christian God. The two denominations also began using its antonym, Diyee

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Aankaawu (lit. "headman down below"), thus introducing the new spatial opposition "up-down," which had not been prominent in the pre-Christian Tlingit cosmology. Unlike the Tlingit word for God, shared by the two denominations, the term kaneisti hit, which Sinx'iyeil must have taken from local Tlingit usage rather than coined himself, was used for the Orthodox church only, while a Tlingit version of the English word "church" tended to be used for the Protestant ones. Kaneisti hit literally means "a house with a cross," which underscored the Russian Church's unique quality and its close association with Christianity's central symbol, seen by the Tlingit as a powerful sacred object. In fact, Sinx'iyeil and Donskoi translated "Orthodox Christians" as "kaneisti s'aat2fi," "masters of the cross," while using "kristin" for "Christian." Another method used by Fr. Donskoi to strengthen Tlingit Orthodoxy, was his continued effort to give his Native parishioners a chance to partake of as many sacraments and other religious actions as possible. In addition to continuing to bless each Tlingit home during the feast days of Theophany and Pascha as well as performing a prayer service at every newly built Indian house (which included sprinkling it with holy water), he instituted the very popular annual ceremony of blessing the Tlingit fishing fleet, held in the spring on the day of its departure from Sitka. The best description of this prayer service (moleben) IS found in The Alaskan (5-9-1891): A rude altar was improvised upon the beach, before which was placed a table covered with an altar cloth. Fr. Donskoi ... together with an assistant performed the functions required ... the priest and his assistant facing eastward, while behind them the dusky natives made numerous responses and genuflections as the ceremony proceeded. The canoes were sprinkled with holy water; then followed the blessing of the occupants, the men first, the women and children afterwards. Final goodbycs were said and every native shook hands with the holy father, and the little fleet started otI [see fig. 91.

Needless to say, Orthodoxy's Presbyterian rivals had no rituals at their disposal that could match this one, so meaningful to the Tlingit. Neither did they have icons that could be taken along by Native fishermen and prayed to in dangerous situations. 21 Following the tradition established by the pre-1867 clergy and RAe officials, Donskoi was always very solicitous toward the Tlingit aristocracy and was responsible for instituting the practice of rewarding high-ranking aanratx'i active in the parish with large icons, religious medals, and certificates signed by the bishop. The first request for such awards, sent by him to Bishop Vladimir on December

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7,1889 (ARCA, B 6), stated that all of the leading Sitka "chiefs," numbering about a dozen, were Orthodox, Aleksei Anax60ts, Pavel K'alyaan, and Ivan L.aanteech being the most respected among them. Conscious of the internal hierarchy within the Tlingit society, Donskoi requested gold-plated stars for the three of them and large icons for the rest of the local leaders. He also wanted the awards, which he planned to distribute solemnly during Nativity services, to be accompanied by written certificates signed by the bishop. The request ended with the statement that "such gifts make it a lot easier to maintain the Christian faith in these ambitious Orthodox representatives." From another letter written by Donskoi to Bishop Vladimir a month later (ibid.), we learn that the Tlingit aristocrats themselves were requesting such awards, insisting that they be made in Russia or bear some Russian/Orthodox words and symbols, so as to distinguish them from American ones. There must have been several reasons for this preference: on the one hand, Orthodox regalia were most likely seen as more spiritually powerful and, on the other hand, being linked to the pre-1867 regalia that some of the Sitka Tlingit still owned, they-like older crest objects-were perceived as more prestigious or, as the Tlingit would put it, "heavier." In fact, other sources (e.g., Kamenskii 1985:37) indicate that during this and the subsequent decades old Russian documents, certificates, and medals were considered by the Tlingit to be of much greater value than any awards distributed by the Americans after 1867. 22 Finally, in another letter to the same bishop (12-28-1890; ARCA, B 6), Donskoi mentions that the newly baptized Indians, especially the chiefs, were asking for large icons. 23 The fact that icons and other valuable Church objects and regalia distributed by the clergy among the Tlingit were treated as quasi-crest objects (at.6ow) is confirmed by the following incident described in Fr. Vladimir's report to Bishop Nikolai, dated November 19, 1894 (ARCA, D 432). It involved an icon sent to Sinx'iyeil by the Holy Synod as a reward for his diligent work for the Church, which arrived in Sitka only after his death. Donskoi informed the bishop that he had not yet given the icon to any of the man's heirs. Initially he was planning to give it to Sinx'iyeil's wife, but the deceased man's brothers and other clan relatives informed him that, because she had no children, eventually the holy object would go to other members of her clan, who did not even live in Sitka. "This would mean," continues the priest, "that Sinx'iyeil's clan, the Kiks.adi, would have to forget that through Sinx'iyeil it had been granted a blessing by the Holy Synod. Not wishing to incite trouble among the Kiks.adi, I announced to them that I would present this case to Your discretion and would do whatever you tell me to do. The Kiks.adi have gladly agreed to my proposal and have humbly promised to obey your decision." The most remarkable thing about this

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incident is the fact that a Russian priest was willing to take the Tlingit social organization into consideration, something that was much less likely to occur in the Presbyterian mission. In return for this special respect shown to them, the aristocracy used their influence to encourage their kin to be baptized. In fact, there is some evidence that both Aleksei Annaxoots and Pavel K' alyaan pressured their lineage mates to become Orthodox (e.g., The North Star, 4-11-1891). With the death of Annaxoots in 1889, Ivan L.aanteech replaced him as the highest ranking or at least the most influential Kaagwaantaan aristocrat in St. Michael's parish, who, along with Pavel K'alyaan, was periodically rewarded by the Church (ARCA, D 328; Donskoi's 1892 Letter to the Bishop). The fact that Donskoi always asked that both of these leaders be recognized suggests that he was well aware of the centrality of the moieties in the Tlingit sociocultural order. In addition to rewarding the aristocracy with various material objects, he showed it "great respect" by making a special visit to their houses during feast day processions. Visiting Orthodox bishops also invariably honored local Tlingit leaders by visiting their homes and/or holding a special reception for them (e.g., Ziorov 1893:74).

Orthodox-Presbyterian Rivalry The Russian Church's success in attracting the Tlingit did not endear Fr. Vladimir to the Presbyterian missionaries, despite his attempts to avoid unnecessary confrontations. According to his report to Bishop Vladimir (2-15-1891; ARCA, D 332), having realized how widespread pro-Orthodox sentiment had become among the Tlingit by the early 1890s, the Presbyterians began a massive anti-Orthodox campaign. In this battle, financial and numerical superiority were the Presbyterians' strongest weapons. They not only offered free education and medical care to the Indians but accused the Orthodox of neglecting their Tlingit parishioners. On many occasions, Donskoi claimed, the Presbyterians insisted that Orthodox patients who came to them for help join their own church. In fact, some patients who refused to leave the Russian Church were turned away by the Presbyterian physicians. In order to counteract these Presbyterian activities, Donskoi not only used the power of persuasion but was forced to offer some medications and financial support to those in need, out of the Church's funds as well as his own. In order to prevent further defections from Orthodoxy, he proposed to the Consistory that it hire a physician to treat Orthodox patients or at least establish a pharmacy where they could get medicines. However, due to the lack of funds, his proposal was not heeded (ibid.). Native education was another area where the Presbyterians clearly had the 266

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upper hand. While their boarding school in Sitka was well endowed and had a large staff, Donskoi's parish school for Tlingit children was plagued by a lack of supplies, low teacher salaries, and truancy. The average attendance in the latter school in the late 18805 was about fifty or sixty, but it dropped to thirty or less when there was no interpreter present (Class Journal of the Indian School for 1886-87; ARCA, D 349). As the Russian clergy's reports as well as my own data from interviews with elderly Tlingit indicate, very few students of the Orthodox day school managed to learn to read and write in Russian well. Of course, the fact that there was only a limited need for these skills in Sitka at that time contributed to their lack of enthusiasm for those subjects. They were more successful in mastering other secular subjects, such as history and geography, although one gets ·the impression that their knowledge of these was still rather limited. The situation with English was better because of the efforts of a popular young teacher, Andrei P. Kashevarov (Andrew Kashevaroff) (Donskoi's letter to Bishop Vladimir, 12-7-1889; ARCA, B 6) (see fig. 3). Born on Kodiak in 1863 in a prominent Alaska Creole family, he followed his father's footsteps and worked for the Russian Church first as a teacher and psalm reader and eventually as a priest (see chapters 7, 8, and 10).24 The teaching of English in this school was particularly important as a defense against the standard Presbyterian argument that the Orthodox Church was a foreign institution that instilled loyalty to the tzar as well as anti-American sentiments among its parishioners. The Orthodox Indian school's biggest success was in the area of instructing Tlingit children in the rudiments of Orthodoxy (relying heavily on the Donskoi/Sinx'iyeil translations) and church singing. The latter, too, was Kashevarov's domain: in 1889 he established a special choir among the Tlingit children which soon began taking part in the Sunday liturgy. According to Donskoi (letter to Bishop Vladimir, 11-11-1889; ARCA, B 6), "The establishment of this choir will be directly beneficial not only to church services but to the cause of converting the Indians to Orthodoxy. The Kolosh are very pleased that their children are glorifying God in His Temple with their own mouths." Given the centrality of singing in indigenous Tlingit rituals, the Russian Church's emphasis on church singing and its use of the Native language in the liturgy played major roles in endearing it to the Tlingit (cf. Collis 1890:m-12). The Orthodox Indian school, as Donskoi himself acknowledged, also suffered from competition from the public school. Despite their devotion to Orthodoxy, most Tlingit parents realized that the practical knowledge their children could gain in the American school was superior to what the Russian one had to offer. Donskoi himself, however, claimed that it was a desire to receive the public school's more generous Christmas presents that attracted the Indian children to

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it (Report to Bishop Nikolai, 11-8-1891; ARCA, D 432).25 In addition, Tlingit parents deeply resented the fact that some of the Russian teachers used physical punishment (still widespread in Russian schools, but gradually declining in America at that time) and verbal abuse to discipline the Tlingit children (Donskoi's Class Journal of the Indian School for 1891; ARCA, D 349). However, the biggest obstacle in the cause of Tlingit education-Orthodox, Presbyterian, or secular American-was the persistence of subsistence activities which took entire families away from Sitka between mid-spring and late fall. In fact, in one of his reports to the bishop dealing with Tlingit education (11-8-1891; ARCA, D 432), Fr. Vladimir laments the fact that the American government had put a stop to the compulsory method of making Tlingit children come to school used so effectively by Captain Glass. At the same time, he was unhappy with the fact that so many public school teachers were Sheldon Jackson's appointees, actively proselytizing Protestant Christianity among their Tlingit students. Eventually, under some pressure from the priest, the public school allowed "Russian" students not to take part in the recitation of the Lord's Prayer or Bible study with the rest of their class, and later eliminated those religious activities altogether (Klotter and Klotter 1980:82). The Presbyterian boarding school was Fr. Donskoi's other nemesis. He deeply resented its success in luring poor and orphaned Tlingit and even Creole children and then indoctrinating them with Presbyterianism. According to his report to the Alaska Consistory, written in March 1893 (ARCA, D 432), on the first day that Orthodox children entered the Sitka Training School, their crosses and small icons were taken away from them and they were forbidden from praying in the Orthodox style or attending services at the cathedral (cf. Kan 1979-95). It appears that the local U.S. officials were sympathetic to the Orthodox clergy's and parents' complaints about such abuses at the Presbyterian boarding school. In fact, in the same report Donskoi mentions that, in response to these complaints, the U.S. district judge asked him to remove all of the Orthodox children from the Training School. This, however, could not be done, because the Russian Church lacked the funds to open up its own orphanage. In fact, by 1893 Fr. Donskoi was raising six orphans in his own household, at least one of whom was F [G. 3. Tlingit students of the Russian Orthodox School, Sitka, 1886-90. The two Tlingit men standing at each end of the student group are probably the school interpreters. The four men on the porch above the students, including Andrei P. Kashevarov (Kashevaroff) (lower row, first from right) are Russian/Creole teachers. (Photo by Edward De Groff; AHL, PCA 91-49)

FIG. 4. Fr. Vladimir Donskoi, Sitka parish priest, 1889-95. (Photographer unknown. VinokouroffCollection; AHL, PCA 243-1-14)

a Tlingit boy. Given his rather low salary and the fact that he had a wife and several children of his own, frequent complaints about financial problems that he made to his superiors in San Francisco are easy to understand. 26 Finally in the summer of 1893 a small orphanage/boarding school for boys named after Bishop Innokentii Veniaminov opened in Sitka in the old "bishop's house," part of which had been occupied by the priest and his family. The orphanage was initially designed for ten students who came from all over Alaska. Among them there was only one full-blooded Tlingit boy, Il'ia or Eli(jah) Katanook from Killisnoo.27 In 1893 another boy who was part-Tlingit and partRussian (or Creole) named Innokentii Petelin (Williams) was placed in the orphanage as well. Like the Presbyterian boarding school, the Orthodox orphanage indentured its children for the period of six or more years. The clergy was obligated to feed, clothe, house, and educate the students in return for their obedience and some labor. In some cases, it was stated that upon reaching maturity a student was obligated to serve the Russian Church for a number of years (as was, for instance, the case with Eli Katanook). Parents and other close relatives had the right to visit the children. While the Russian Church was willing to let the students keep their Tlingit names, some of the clergymen made an

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effort to Russify these, just as the Presbyterians tried to Americanize them. Although this was not the case with Fr. Donskoi, his successors, especially Fr. Antonii Dashkevich who labored in Sitka in the late 1890s-early 19oos, were fond of giving Tlingit orphans the names of their own missionary predecessors, Donskoi and Kamenskii, for example. Fr. Antonii's enthnocentrism came through in the following letter written to Bishop Tikhon in 1901, in which he asks his superior to allow him to change a certain Tlingit boy's "Indian nickname [!l [prozvishche l, with its pagan meaning and origin, to the nice-sounding last name 'Donskoi' in honor of the former worker of the local church" (ARCA, D 352). Eventually the orphanage students were joined by day students, most of whom were "Russians" and a few of whom were Tlingit or Russian -Tlingit. Most of the day students were male, but a few females attended as wel1. 28 The Innokentii School consisted initially of two grades and its curriculum was modeled on that of a two-class parish school in Russia. The aim of this educational program was to give its students more advanced training in both religious and secular subjects (see chapter 7 for details). In addition to acting as a refuge for destitute and orphaned Orthodox youngsters, the school was supposed to increase the number of church workers in Alaska. In fact, as early as 1887 Donskoi suggested to the Alaska Consistory that it place at least one of the Orthodox children from the Sitka parish school in a more advanced Orthodox school in San Francisco so as to provide him with the education necessary to become a missionary. He pointed out that this is precisely what the Presbyterian mission had been doing in sending several of its Tlingit students to more advanced educational institutions in the "lower 48" (Report to the Alaska Consistory, 8-11-1887; AR CA, D 332). Donskoi's plan materialized only in the late 1890S and early 1900S when a number of "Russian" and Tlingit graduates of the Sitka Orphanage/Innokentii School became priests, deacons, psalmreaders, and church interpreters (see chapters 7 and 10). While anti-Orthodox sentiments were fairly strong among Presbyterian missionaries and teachers 2 9 as well as some of Sitka's more nationalist AngloAmericans,30 the Orthodox clergy, in turn, was not immune from strong antiProtestant and a certain amount of anti-American prejudice. While the Presbyterians accused the "Greek Church" (as they liked to call it) of empty ritual, Orthodox clergy did not even consider Protestantism to be a legitimate form of Christianity, referring to Presbyterianism and other Protestant denominations as "sects." Coming from a country where Orthodoxy was the state religion and religious pluralism was not a popular idea, priests from Russia were troubled and confused by the variety of Christian denominations operating in Alaska. What made Presbyterianism and other Protestant denominations particularly suspect in the eyes of the Russian clergy was its deemphasis of the sacraments. 271

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Mutual suspicions and accusations on both sides were further aggravated by a lack of knowledge about the rival denomination's dogma and ritual practice as well as poor communication between the competing churches. Thus, the Presbyterians falsely accused the Orthodox Church of requiring its members to pledge allegiance to the emperor of Russia, while the Russian clergy relied on rumors to form its opinion of the way Presbyterian ministers performed baptism. In 1888 Donskoi sent a report to the Alaska Consistory requesting guidance in cases involving the Presbyterian Tlingit wishing to become Orthodox (Donskoi's report to the Consistory, 5-17-1888; ARCA, D 336). The priest claimed that Rev. Austin's refusal to provide him with information about the formula used in his church to baptize Indians forced him to rely on the oral testimony of the Tlingit converts themselves and, based on it, to bring them into the Orthodox Church either through baptism or anointing with holy oil (miropomazanie). According to rumors that Donskoi had heard, Austin was allegedly using the following formula during the baptism ceremony: "I am baptizing you because God has commanded me to do so. Let your name be so-and-so." What also troubled the Orthodox priest was the fact that no immersion in water was performed by the minister (but only wetting of the neophyte's head) and that "sometimes no Christian name was given" (i.e., some of the American names given by the Presbyterians had no Orthodox equivalent). Considering this type of baptism invalid and having no chance of verifying these rumors, Donskoi was sometimes forced to baptize converts from Presbyterianism with the words "since you have not been baptized" (ashche ne kreshchion est') added to the standard Orthodox formula. While the Orthodox clergy doubted the sacramental nature of the Presbyterian baptism, they were well aware of the fact that marriage was not considered a sacrament at all by that denomination. This and a greater frequency of divorce among Protestants made the Russian priest extremely hostile to any attempts by their own parishioners, "Russian" and Tlingit alike, to be married by the Presbyterian minister)1 How did the Tlingit respond to this bitter rivalry between the two denominations? The general mood among them throughout the Donskoi years was proOrthodox. This is attested by several of Donskoi's reports sent to his superiors in the late 1880s and early 1890S as well as by the continuing growth of his parish and the very limited expansion of the Presbyterian one. Most of the defections from one denomination to another involved Presbyterian Tlingit joining the Russian Church. However, the Presbyterian mission's wealth remained an important attraction for a people who had always treated gifts as signs of respect. Not being able to fully appreciate this key element of Tlingit culture and angered by occasional defections by his Native parishioners, Donskoi attributed them to

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"Kolosh materialism." In a private letter written in 1897 to Fr. Antonii, who was about to travel to Sitka to become its new Orthodox priest, Donskoi described the Tlingit as "children who are fickle, vain, ambitious, corruptible with wealth, and inconstant. They like to have the priest follow them around like a nanny, pamper them, listen patiently to any nonsense that they say, and offer them material and even medical help" (A H L, Vinokouroff Collection, MS 81, box 31, folder 12). The truth of the matter was that the Tlingit, whom Donskoi cast in the role of children, were shrewd manipulators of the two missions. While they appreciated the spiritual benefits offered by the Russian Church and the "respect" shown to them by its clergy, they tried to take advantage of the material goods, medical services, and better secular education provided by the Presbyterians. As Ushin was told by some Sitka Tlingit in 1888, "the Presbyterian missionaries are rich. When we are sick they treat us, and when we die they bury us in their own coffins. They also raise and educate our children, clothing them and giving them shoes, feeding them and even teaching them music" (Ushin's Diary, 11-1888; ARCA, D 435). Sometimes the Tlingit even played one denomination against another for personal benefit. When a certain Tlingit man showed up in the Orthodox cathedral intoxicated and was harangued by the priest, he threatened to go to Reverend Austin (Ushin's Diary, 9-1888; ARCA, D 435). On a few occasions, especially during the late 1880s, the Sitka newspaper reported that the Tlingit were "jumping" funerals between different denominations for personal gain (The Alaskan, 2-20-1886). However, from the Tlingit point of view, heavyhanded control over its Native members and the alliance (no matter how fragile) between the Presbyterian missionaries and the local American officials tended to outweigh the attractiveness of the material benefits the Presbyterians promised to the Native people. Throughout the Donskoi era, the Orthodox mission remained more popular with the Sitka kwaan and several other northern kwaans than its Presbyterian rivals.

Fr. Vladimir Donskoi's Sitka Parishioners on the Eve of His Departure from Alaska Despite his devotion to his work, after nine years in Sitka Fr. Donskoi was ready to go back to Russia. Throughout his tenure as Sitka's priest and the dean (blagochinnyi) of the Sitka district of the Alaska diocese, he occasionally complained of the financial difficulties involved in having to support a large family on a modest salary. In 1894 he also began complaining of ill health and overwork. Having spent three years on Kamchatka and nine in Alaska, he longed to return 273

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home to the Irkutsk province. In his letter to Bishop Nikolai of August 22, 1894 (ARCA, B 6), Fr. Vladimir made the following plea: "My health, the Most Holy Vladyko, continues to worsen and I have seriously begun thinking about returning to my native land. I do not wish to die in a foreign country (€huzhbina)." For most Russian clergymen who came to Alaska after its transfer to the United States, the territory never became a real home. While they tended to blame the harsh climate32 and financial difficulties for that, nostalgia for home (a common Russian affliction), disaffection for much of what they encountered on the American frontier (from the power of money to religious pluralism and democracy which they found excessive), and occasional reminders from unfriendly Yankees (most of them Protestant missionaries) that they were foreigners played a big role in their eagerness to return to Russia. In the fall of 1895 Fr. Vladimir's wish was granted and in November of that year he was finally able to leave Alaska, having been replaced by Fr. Anatolii Kamenskii.33 He left many friends behind, both within his parish and among Sitka's Anglo-Americans.34 Despite his sincere love for his parishioners, Creole and Tlingit alike, Fr. Donskoi was a man of his time, with the typical prejudices of a Russian parish priest of the conservative era of Emperor Aleksandr III. While he was more tolerant of his recently baptized "Kolosh" parishioners' transgressions than those of his "Russian" ones,35 he did not hesitate to speak out against Tlingit memorial potlatches and other indigenous ceremonies that seemed to him to have a religious flavor. Donskoi's 1897 letter to Dashkevich, quoted earlier, makes it clear that he was well aware of and unhappy about the survival of "paganism" among his Tlingit parishioners. He attributed it to the brevity of the time they had spent in the Orthodox Church as well as to the flaws in their character. What the Russian priest did not understand was that pre-Christian beliefs and practices, and especially the memorial Koo.eex', were not mere survivals of a pagan past but remained central to the Tlingit culture of the last two decades of the nineteenth century. At the same time, by 1895 the Russian Church had clearly become an important institution in their society, while Orthodox beliefs and rites had found a place in their worldview. This was illustrated, for example, by the following sign, which a visiting American tourist saw above the door of one of the large Native homes in the Sitka village: "Ltahin, head of a large family of Orthodox Christians" (Collis 1890:lO6). Particularly popular among the Tlingit were the Orthodox feast days and the sacraments, with the exception of marriage which many Tlingit continued to resist.3 6 Many of the Orthodox Tlingit, especially the younger ones who had attended the parish school, had also acquired some understanding of the basics of Orthodox dogma and ritual, though their knowledge was still very limited. Of 274

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course, many of Sitka's "Russians" (and the "lower classes" in Russia itself, for that matter) were not much more knowledgeable in that area and practiced their own brand of "folk Orthodoxy" which included a great many pre-Christian or "unorthodox" beliefs and observances (see Frank and Steinberg 1994). By the end of the Donskoi era, Tlingit parishioners had acquired a certain amount of power and influence within St. Michael's parish, even though Creoles continued to serve as its warden and main lay leaders. Outnumbered three to one by the "Kolosh," and resenting the greater attention paid to them by Donskoi and his subordinates, the "Russian" parishioners continued to keep a distance from the Tlingit ones. In 1890, for example, Donskoi wrote to the bishop that with the establishment of a Tlingit choir, "Russian" choir members were "gradually abandoning the kliros37 and did not wish to take part in the singing" (12-28-1890; ARC A, B 6). Tlingit parishioners not only outnumbered the "Russian" ones but were committed to attending church services. In his letters and reports Donskoi repeatedly pointed out the Tlingit "were more diligent in fulfilling their church duties and participating in religious ceremonies than the Sitka Creoles"; he also described them as being more "pious and attentive" during services, rarely missing confession and communion.38 The gradual decline of the "Russian" community's devotion to its church is not difficult to explain. On the one hand, it continued to lose its members (mostly women) to mixed marriages with Anglo-Americans.39 On the other hand, the younger members of that community wanted to be treated as Americans by the rest of Sitka's "White" population. Over the years it became increasingly difficult for this dwindling community to reproduce itself biologically and especially culturally. Due to a large extent to the influence of the public school, knowledge and use of Russian were gradually declining, a fact lamented by Fr. Vladimir and his successors.4D The younger generation of Sitka "Russians" was also abandoning some of the folk customs of their parents which went back to the days of the Russian-American Company. In January 1889 Ushin complained in his diary (ARCA, D 436) that Russian Christmas celebrations were no longer what they had been because the older generation was dying off and the younger one "did not know how to do things right." The Creole community was also plagued by internal squabbling and factionalism aggravated by drinking, widespread among both genders. Most irritating to the Russian clergy was the younger Creoles' refusal to obey the clergy, exhibiting behavior that Donskoi and others attributed to the influence of American morals and the fact that very few full-blooded Russians remained alive. Thus, in his 1892 report to the bishop (ARCA, D 432), Donskoi characterized Sitka's Creole population as a "miserable remnant" of the once 275

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substantial Russian community, most of its present members being a mixture of Russian and Aleut or Russian and Tlingit blood. He also referred to them as "poorly developed" (malo razvitye), barely educated, rude and ignorant people. In his words, "Having incorrectly interpreted the freedom granted to them by the American constitution, they have developed a liberal 41 attitude even towards the Orthodox Church's advice and teachings. One can often hear from a Creole the following, 'This is America, the land of freedom-anyone can live in any way he wants to here.'" Compared to these rebellious Orthodox Christians, the Tlingit seemed much more obedient and devoted to the Church-at least they rarely argued with the priest, preferring to do things their own way without openly confronting the clergy. At least Tlingit church members would never question the existence of God or refuse to let the priest in their homes on feast days, as a few younger "Russians" were beginning to do (ibid.). Finally, excessive drinking (and the petty crime which was often caused by it)42 continued to plague the Orthodox congregation, the Creoles setting a bad example for the Tlingit and often acting as the source of illicit liquor for them. To combat this ancient "Russian disease," preserve the Russian language and cultural heritage, protect the Orthodox from the pernicious influence of "freethinking Presbyterians," and strengthen the bonds between the "Russian" parishioners, Fr. Donskoi reestablished a church brotherhood/temperance society among the Creoles, which had been organized in 1885 under the name of "The Brotherhood of the Standard-bearers of Archangel Michael" but had declined after only one year of operation (see its Journal for 1885-86; ARCA, D 322). The new sodality was eventually named "The St. Nicholas Church Brotherhood." While this organization did improve the relationship between the clergy and the Creole parishioners and helped heal some of the rifts within that community, its membership remained relatively low (about forty), especially compared to the Tlingit brotherhood established in 1896 and modeled on the Russian one (see chapter 7). Despite the persistence of some anti-Tlingit prejudice in the Creole community, participation in the same services, religious processions, and feast day celebrations inevitably brought the two groups closer together. American visitors to St. Michael's Cathedral were impressed by the fact that "inside the church doors all are equal; there are no distinctions of caste, and no separations save that of sex" (Bugbee 1893=193). Actually, some separation between the two groups within the church space remained, just as the Tlingit worshippers themselves were divided according to rank and age. Nevertheless, all of Sitka's other churches were even less integrated than the Orthodox one. 43 Creole men and especially women continued to serve as the godparents of Tlingit children, while

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the number of Creole-Tlingit marriages increased somewhat. 44 In some areas the culture of Sitka's "Russians" remained closer to that of the Tlingit than to that of the Anglo-Americans. For example, belief in witchcraft was strong in both communities (Ushin's Diary for September 1888; ARCA, D 435). Creole and Tlingit men often drank and gambled together, while their female relatives did some socializing of their own. At least one young "Russian" man, Kharlampii Sokolov (the son of a local psalmreader), was known to have participated in traditional Tlingit ceremonies wearing Native regalia and facial painting (Ushin's Diary, March 1887; ARCA, D 435) (see chapter 8). Finally, some prominent "Russian" families, and especially the Kostromitinovs, continued to serve as a liaison between the two segments of the congregation.

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7

Native Brotherhoods and the Further Development of Tlingit Orthodoxy, 1895-1917

I

The Sitka Tlingit on the Eve of Fr. Anatolii's Arrival

n the mid-1890s the Sitka village looked quite different from the way it did only a decade or so earlier. In fact, visiting tourists who ventured into the "Ranch" in search of "exotic Indians" were disappointed, unless they were sympathetic toward Native Christianization and Americanization. The author of the following passage, describing the Sitka village as it looked in 1885, clearly belonged to the latter category. Entering through the old stockade gate, the Indian rancherie presents itself, as a double row of square houses fronting on the beach. Each house is numbered and whitewashed, and the ground surrounding it gravelled and drained. The same neatness marks the whole long stretch of the village, and amazement at this condition is only ended when one learns that the captain of the man-of-war fines each disorderly Indian in blankets, besides confining him to the guard-house, and that the forfeited blankets are duly exchanged for paint, whitewash, and disinfectants. Police and sanitary regulations both are enforced, and the Indians made to keep their village quiet and clean (Scidmore 1885:175).

If casual visitors had entered one of these Tlingit homes, they would have seen it furnished according to the latest American fashions. Gone were the benches around the periphery of the house, while a factory-made stove had replaced the old fireplace in the center of the room of most of the houses by this time. Along the streets of Sitka, Tlingit women would have offered their baskets and other handicrafts to our visitors, while down at the cannery they would see Tlingit men delivering their catch. Although from April to November Native families continued to spend time at their subsistence camps preparing food for

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the winter, the need for cash had clearly become quite strong. The Tlingit were no longer willing to live without store-bought food stuffs and the various material goods they could buy downtown. To get the money, Tlingit men had to spend considerable amounts of time fishing for the canneries or working in mining, lumbering, and other domains of the American economy, while Tlingit women earned decent wages processing fish along with Chinese workers. ' No longer would our tourists see any Tlingit wearing blankets (except maybe for an elderly woman) or painting their faces, unless they arrived in town on the day visitors from another village were landing in Sitka to attend a potlatch. Most Tlingit children were now spending at least half of the year in the public or the Orthodox parish schools, and some lived at the Presbyterian Industrial School all year round. On Sundays our visitors would observe some well-dressed Indians on their way to the Presbyterian Church on the other side of town and an even larger group making its way to St. Michael's Cathedral on Lincoln Street. Most of the young and the middle-aged Tlingit could now speak at least some English and even many of the older folks understood it. This seemingly radical change that had taken place in the life of the Tlingit in less than a decade prompted Governor Swineford to offer the following enthusiastic evaluation of their progress in his Annual Report for 1896: The natives of southeastern Alaska are, as a general thing, a provident, selfsustaining people, peaceable, and not at all adverse to the efforts that are being made for their civilization through the education of their children. Indeed, a marked improvement in their condition is noticeable from year to year, particularly in and about the settlements where the Christian missionaries have been able to reach and bring their teachings and influence to bear upon the people. Here at Sitka, for instance, where there is a native village with a population over one thousand, a very large majority have been gathered into the Christian fold, and the native men and women who do not attend one or the other of the churches regularly are very few [pp. 7-8].

This transformation of what might be called the outer contours of Tlingit life occurred not without some pressure from Government officials and Presbyterian reformers. During Governor Swineford's tenure (1885-89), the "Ranch" was periodically inspected by him and his subordinates in order to insure its continued cleanliness. 2 During the same period, John Brady, serving as a United States commissioner, fought vigorously against such "old customs" as witchcraft accusations and remnants of slavery (see Hinckley 1982:87-110). As late as 1894, the

279

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governor still sent policemen into the Sitka village to round up truant Indian children (Annual Report of the Governor of Alaska for the Year 1894:25). Our visitors would have been mistaken to assume that the Tlingit had already radically changed their culture and become "competent Christian citizens," as the governor and the Protestant missionaries were hoping. In fact, even in the labor market, the Natives retained a considerable degree ofindependence and, as another Alaska governor, Lyman Knapp, admitted, "if prices do not suit them, they are able to live in their old ways upon fish, seaweed, and blubber (Annual Report of the Governor of Alaska for 1891:32-33). They were also unwilling to have their property rights infringed upon by American commercial establishments. The same report mentions a recent confrontation between American employers and Tlingit employees in Chilkat where the Indians had become dissatisfied with the prices paid for their fish by the three local canneries "and combining this grievance with an imagined [! 1infringement on their rights in the occupation of certain fishing grounds, ... threatened to destroy the fishing nets of the cannery companies" (ibid.). Only pressure from the captain of the USS Pinta restored calm in that area. Similar to the situation in the 1870S, the Tlingit continued to tolerate the Americans as a necessary evil, as people who offered some useful things and could not be pushed out, even if one wished they could be. As Governor Knapp, a greater realist than his predecessor, Alfred Swineford, pointed out in the same report, The natives consider themselves the true owners of the country, with all its accompaniments of soil, forests, streams and navigable waters. Its game, fish, and vegetable growth are their personal property. The white man is an invader to be tolerated as a matter of necessity, or perhaps as a matter of advantage. As a conquered people they bow to the inevitable and will accept such a place in the legal structure as shall be accorded them (ibid.:37).

Another sign of the Tlingit refusal to become fully Americanized was the fact that much of the distribution of food and even cash continued to take place in accordance with the traditional principles of the social structure and norms of social life. Although more money was being retained by the nuclear family, sharing with one's matrikin and generous gifting of one's affines during feasts and potlatches still occurred. In fact, potlatching continued to be the main mechanism of personal as well as collective social ascent. The large Victorian frame houses in the Sitka village had huge living rooms which were used for traditional ceremonies in exactly the same fashion as the old log houses had been 280

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utilized earlier. Most Tlingit continued to marry according to the traditional laws of moiety exogamy, the aristocracy still trying to marry into the same clan their senior matrikin had been married to before. Although the cash earned in the market economy did enable some of the nouveaux riches to rise in the social hierarchy, the old aristocracy retained much of its power and prestige and continued to playa major role in sociopolitical life. Matrilineal groups still had a strong sense of ownership, whether it was of subsistence resources or sacred at.6owu. Infringements on their property rights by other lineages and clans still caused feuding and even occasional violent confrontations, although the presence of the Navy limited the extent of the indigenous warfare. In fact, in places like Sitka, intramoiety and intraclan disputes over crests were now often settled in the American courts rather than on the battlefield. Finally, traditional spirituality remained largely intact, with the exception of shamanistic practices, which declined considerably in Sitka but were still quite common in the more isolated communities. Belief in witches, land otter people, and other malevolent and benevolent superhuman beings was still strong, and so were pre-Christian ideas about spiritual power, purity, and good luck. Traditional beliefs and practices were in many cases intertwined with the Christian ones rather than replaced. As we have already seen, this was particularly true of Orthodoxy (see chapter 9). Of course, this picture is accurate only in very general terms-considerable variation existed between the more conservative villages (especially Angoon/ Killisnoo, Hoonah, Klukwaan, and Yakutat) and the larger, somewhat more urbanized communities with a mixed Tlingit and Euro-American population, such as Sitka, Juneau, and Wrangell) Within Sitka itself major differences existed between the majority of the Tlingit population living in the old village and the inhabitants of a new community, called the "Cottages," established in 1888 by young married graduates of the Sitka Training School on land given to them by the Presbyterian mission. Located next to the school, they were spatially separated from their relatives in the "Ranch," which further underscored an ideological rift between the two Native communities. What separated the inhabitants of this small settlement consisting of a dozen homes, whose residents formed the core of the Native Presbyterian Church located nearby, from the majority of the Sitkan Tlingit was the fact that some of them had married members of their own moieties or persons of mixed (TlingitWhite) descent, preferred to live with their immediate family only, and spoke mainly English or at least discouraged their children from speaking Tlingit. A number of them made a living combining fishing with such new occupations as boat building, jewelry making, and small retail trade. A few of the residents of

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this model Christian community, which had its own statutes, had internalized the American/Presbyterian values with which they had been indoctrinated during their school years. Others tried to maintain an uneasy balance between trying to live according to their Presbyterian mentors' blueprint and maintaining ties with their more conservative relatives in the village. On some occasions they refused to take part in traditional ceremonies but on others behaved in accordance with the old values and laws, for which they were severely reprimanded by both the Euro-American and the Tlingit leadership of the Presbyterian Church (see Records of the First Presbyterian Church in Sitka, cited below).4 What the two Tlingit communities did have in common was their resentment against continued Euro-American discrimination and economic exploitation. The Presbyterian Tlingit were particularly sensitive to the racist and condescending attitudes toward Natives which were still quite common among local Whites. In the early 1900S, for example, several of them sent a petition to the governor protesting customhouse employees' insistence that Sitka Indians carry a pass to use the wharf, which had been justified by an allegation that most of them were infected with various diseases (Hinckley 1982:245). During the same period, Indian children (whether they came from the "Ranch" or the Cottages) were periodically driven from the parade grounds (ibid.). Thus the Sitka Training School graduates, who spoke excellent English and dressed impeccably, discovered that speedy assimilation into the mainstream of American society was much more difficult to achieve than their missionary mentors had promised them. By the late 1880s to early 1890S the Sitka Tlingit were ready to voice their grievances about various abuses by the local officials and businessman. They were also beginning to organize themselves into a political force which could take advantage of the American legal system to make their complaints known to Government officials, from the governor of Alaska all the way to the president of the United States. The first reference to such activities appears in Ushin's diary in May 1887 (AReA, D 435). It describes a large "Kolosh" meeting in the village involving an election of delegates to present grievances about American abuses in Sitka such as the seizure of land and the destruction of grave monuments in the Native cemetery. What Ushin does not mention is that the focus of these grievances was the actions of none other than the well-known Presbyterian advocate of Native Alaskan rights, Commissioner John Brady. Soon after his arrival in Sitka in 1879, he staked out a claim to a large plot of land right above the village and built a house there. Gradually he expanded his lot by encroaching on the Native cemetery. When confronted by Governor Swineford, who for his own political reasons decided to take the Tlingit side in this dispute, Brady responded by saying that "the natives have no ancient cemetery or burial ground; they have

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always burned their dead on piles of dry cedar logs" (Hinckley 1982:117). Judge Brady was lying: he had a pretty good understanding of traditional Tlingit culture and knew full well that each clan owned a section of the cemetery located behind its winter houses. What had offended the Tlingit most was his throwing the remains of their dead kin away while clearing the ground. Having obtained no restitution from Brady, a larger group of Native leaders, which included prominent aristocrats from both churches (L.aanteech and K'alyaan from the Orthodox Church and Jim Jackson Annax60tz, Augustus Bean,5 and Mr. Tom from the Presbyterian one) denounced his abuses once again in 1893; this time they appealed to the Alaska surveyor general and the registrar of the U.S. Lands Office. While Brady produced papers demonstrating that he had applied in due form for 160 acres, the Tlingit argued that this was their land. It was too late, however, to block Brady from his building projects-several of his structures were already standing on Native land (Alaska Herald, 12-11-1893). A year later the Alaska district attorney in Sitka officially filed an Indian complaint which argued that, while the village population was growing, Brady's occupation of their land was preventing it from expanding (The Alaskan, 1-27-1894). The commissioner was finally forced to seek a compromise and promised to allow the Tlingit to gather berries on "his" land and "not to throwaway any bones of dead Indians into the sea, or to expose them to public view, but whenever he sees or finds any, to bury them out of sight" (document cited in Hinckley 1982:141; reprinted in Neek, 8-1980). Even though the Sitkan Tlingit did not win this particular battle, they had learned some important lessons in the process. Thus, in 1895 when a Native man, Charlie Moses, offered his house in the village for sale to a Euro-American for $500, his neighbors drew up a document that "unanimously resolved that Mr. Moses had no right to sell a house to any white man ... that the land belonged to the Indians as a whole and not to individual members of the tribe." This resolution was adopted at a general meeting of a large group of village residents and was signed by the three leading Kaagwaantaan aristocrats, L.aanteech, Jackson, and Bean (The Alaskan, i-1-1895).6 At the height of this conflict a young and welleducated monk arrived in Sitka to take Fr. Donskoi's place.

Fr. Anatolii Kamenskii, an Educated Monk from St. Petersburg Fr. Kamenskii's career prior to his coming to Alaska contrasted sharply with that of Fr. Donskoi.? Born in the mid-1860s in a clergyman's family, he graduated from the Samara Seminary in 1886 and was ordained as a priest two years later. Having become a widower in the early 18905, Fr. Anatolii enrolled in the St.

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Petersburg Theological Academy, one of the major centers of advanced Orthodox education in the country. In 1895 he graduated from it as a candidate. 8 It appears that Fr. Anatolii took his monastic vows while studying at the academy or immediately after graduation. At the academy he studied various theological disciplines as well as history and the history of religion; in addition he must have acquired some basic education in the sciences as well as such applied disciplines as medicine and agronomy. Kamenskii never became an outstanding scholar of the stature of Bishop Innokentii, but his considerable erudition and love of writing were reflected in his ethnographic work and other publications ([ 1906] 1985, 1908).9

Like many other Russian clergymen of his era, Fr. Anatolii was politically conservative and was also an ardent Russian patriot and nationalist who firmly believed that an Orthodox monarchy was far superior to the European and American systems of government with their freedom of religion and variety of denominations (Kan in Kamenskii 1985). He missed his native land badly and disliked Sitka's weather and its provincial character-within a year of arriving there he began asking for a transfer to San Francisco or back to Russia (Kamenskii's letter to Bishop Nikolai, 10-27-1896; AReA, B 9). He also looked down on the Sitka "Russians," always referring to them as "Creoles." In his view, no "true Russian" would have voluntarily remained in Alaska after its sale to the United States. At the same time, he was fascinated by some aspects of American life, especially its industrial achievements. Kamenskii's job in Sitka was to serve as its parish priest as well as the dean of the Sitka district which included all of southeastern Alaska as well as the Pacific coast all the way up to Kodiak. He was a tireless and dedicated missionary who traveled extensively throughout his district and made a great effort to increase the number of Tlingit converts. However, like his predecessor, he was frustrated by a lack of money and qualified clergy. In Sitka itself Kamenskii immediately resumed the missionary work carried out by Fr. Donskoi, including weekly religious meetings in the village and frequent visits there to administer the various sacraments. In the course of these meetings, he continued Fr. Donskoi's efforts to deepen their understanding of Orthodox dogma and ritual practice. For example, at one such gathering he explained the proper way of hanging up icons in a special sacred (pochetnyi) corner of the house and instructed the people on how to prepare their homes for the priest's performance of the sacramental rituals (treby). Eventually he and other church workers who conducted these meetings were able to use slides, which increased the meetings' popularity with the Native people. Fr. Anatolii repeatedly commented on how much more diligent the Tlingit were about

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attending such meetings than the Creoles (Kamenskii's Report on the Conditions of the St. Michael's Parish for 1897; AReA, D 432). Kamenskii also drew on his medical training to distribute medications and offer basic medical assistance to the Indians (see below). Being a monk, he spent less money on his own needs than Fr. Donskoi had been forced to spend and had more freedom to offer financial assistance to destitute Natives in need of fuel and food (Kamenskii's Journal of Religious Services, 11-24-1895; AReA, D 410).10 Fr. Anatolii also continued Donskoi's practice of honoring Tlingit headmen by performing prayer services in front of their houses during the religious processions on Annunciation and Easter. A new practice, introduced by him, were visits to Orthodox inmates in the local jail to comfort them and conduct religious services (ibid.). Having no qualified Tlingit interpreters" and no psalmreader, Fr. Anatolii hired a Creole, Kharlampii Sokolov, to work for the church in both of these capacities. Kharlampii was the son of a Sitka psalmreader, Semeon Sokolov, who had served the Church for thirty years (1861-91). Born in 1863 and raised in Sitka, Kharlampii was known for his close ties with the local Tlingit, which involved drinking and socializing. According to Ushin (Diary for March 1887; AReA, D 435), he had even taken part in some traditional Tlingit dances, wearing Native regalia and face paint. A few years later, when he served as psalmreader on Killisnoo, Kharlampii had his picture taken together with Kichnaalx, the Deisheetaan headman and a member of the Russian Church, who must have lent him valuable clan regalia to wear (see fig. 21). It is unclear what made Sokolov such a trusted friend of the Tlingit, though one might speculate that he grew up with Native children and may even have been adopted into a Tlingit clan (Kan n.d.b.). In any case, his command of the Tlingit language was excellent, which allowed Kamenskii to overlook his past transgressions, most of which had to do with the excessive consumption of alcohol and "hooliganism." Fr. Anatolii was so pleased with Sokolov, especially with his work on compiling the census of the Orthodox Tlingit and translating statutes of the Indian brotherhoods, that he made several requests to his superiors, asking for special funds to increase his interpreter's salary-being paid only $15 a month, Sokolov was forced to take on other jobs, leaving the priest stranded (Kamenskii's Report to Bishop Nikolai, 12-14-1896;

AReA, D

432).

The new priest was also frustrated by his own inability to speak English. The latter handicap forced him to rely heavily on Sergei Kostromitinov in his communication with local officials (Kamenskii's letter to Bishop Nikolai, 1-6-1897; AReA, B 9). While Kamenskii's relationship with the powerful church warden was at first quite good, it soon began to deteriorate. This was the typical clash of two ambitious and impatient men; in addition, Kamenskii was unhappy about the

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enormous power Kostromitinov had had in running parish affairs. In fact, in 1897 Fr. Anatolii attempted to democratize the system of parish administration

by establishing a board of trustees (popechitel'stvo) whose members were elected by the parishioners. He was also determined to give Tlingit leaders a greater . voice in parish affairs. With his encouragement, the parish elected three Creole and two Tlingit trustees (Ioann L.aanteech and Pavel K'alyaan) representing the two leading clans of the two moieties (see fig. 5). Their duties included being present as witnesses during the monthly counting of church money and taking part in charitable activities aimed at helping the poorest members of the parish (Kamenskii's Report on the Conditions of the St. Michael's Parish for 1897; ARCA, D

432).

Having gotten acquainted with his parishioners, Kamenskii quickly concluded that there were serious problems with both the Creole and the Tlingit church members. The former disappointed him by their immorality and lack of piety as well as by their loss of Russian culture and language. What frustrated Kamenskii most was the "America spirit" that both the children and the parents were manifesting. In his words, "The [Creole] children ... are imbued with the spirit of the Americanized Creoles; they are extremely ill-mannered and undisciplined but the minute some effort is made to discipline them, they respond by saying, 'this is not Russia where one can whip students' " (Kamenskii's letter to Bishop Nikolai of 12-23-1897; ARCA, D 432). Kamenskii's rather paternalistic style of running the parish, which might have worked in a Russian village, clearly clashed with the more Americanized culture of his Creole parishioners. Another sore point, which he described in his reports to San Francisco, were attempts by the Creole brotherhood of St. Nicholas to gain greater independence from the clergy. During meetings of a commission of

Creole parishioners established in 1897 to change the society's statutes, a proposal was seriously considered to remove the priest from serving as the overseer of the brotherhood's order (poriadok) and to allow the members to spend the money from their treasury without consulting him or the bishop. It appears that the brotherhood was trying to emulate fraternal organizations that existed

FIG. 5. Fr. Anatolii Kamenskii with a group of Tlingit clan leaders and dignitaries, Sitka, late 1897. Right to left, front row: unidentified, Morris White (?), David Young (?),

Aanyaalahaash (a GaanaE.adi clan leader from Taku/Juneau), another headman from the Juneau area, Fr. Kamenskii, L.aanteech (a Kaagwaantaan headman from Sitka). The man in the top row on the right is Kharlampii Sokolov. (Photo by William Case and Herbert Draper; AHL, PCA 39-446)

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among local Anglo-Americans and to improve the economic conditions of their community. There was talk of reviving a brotherhood-owned cooperative store that had existed under Donskoi. Kamenskii, who did not understand the local situation and believed that Church sodalities should limit their activities to religious affairs and charity, was vehemently opposed to such attempts to "Americanize" the organizationY Fr. Anatolii's final verdict on the Creole community was very critical and is worth quoting in its entirety as a reflection of the nationalist Russian clergy's frustration with the decline of the Russian "legacy" in Alaska (see Appendix II). If Fr. Anatolii failed to understand the emerging new culture of the Sitka Creoles (which he interpreted simply as a corrupted version of the Russian one), he turned out to be a better observer of the Tlingit one. An entry in his "Journal of Religious Service" (May 11,1896; ARCA, D 410), made only six months after his arrival in Sitka, demonstrates his appreciation of the central value of that culture-"love and respect" for ancestors. Expressing regret about the absence of most Tlingit (because of their pursuit of subsistence activities) from a special memorial service conducted by the Orthodox Church on the Sunday after Easter, the priest pointed out the need for the clergy to better acquaint the Natives with the Russian Church's memorial rites and observances: Among the old beliefs of the Indians, remembering the dead is the most important one; in fact, all of their religious rites are limited to memorializing the dead. Seeing that such practices and beliefs also exist in Orthodoxy but are totally absent from Presbyterianism, they begin to doubt whether Presbyterianism is a true Christian religion. It is not uncommon to see Presbyterian women come to our church to remember their dead relatives. Given all this, it is especially desirable that the church's rules about remembering the dead would be followed precisely and with appropriate solemnity.

Fr. Anatolii's understanding of the centrality of the memorial rites in Tlingit culture did not mean that he condoned them. On the contrary, soon after his arrival in Sitka he began to use his sermons and religious instruction meetings to appeal to his Native parishioners "to abandon their old customs [starye obychail hindering the cause of their salvation" (Journal of Religious Service, 12-15-1896; ARC A, D 410). Kamenskii's report to the bishop as well as his publications in the ROAM and his ethnographic work show how well he understood that the foundation and the source of these "old customs" was what he called "clan-based social life" (rodovoi byt). Thus, like his Presbyterian rivals, he attacked not only "pagan religion" but matrilineal descent and moiety exogamy as the key factors that 288

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retarded Tlingit Christianization and social progress. He argued that because of matrilineal descent, the property of a deceased man went to his clan relatives rather than to his wife and children, and in order to maintain this custom, the Tlingit avoided legalizing their marriages, fearing that American law would favor patrilineal inheritance. He also blamed other pagan customs, such as bigamy, hostage-taking, memorial dances, and others on this "clan-based social life" (Kamenskii's Annual Report on the Conditions of the St. Michael's Parish for 1896; ARCA, D 432; d. Kamenskii 1985:137). Like the Presbyterians and American officials, Fr. Anatolii argued that matrilineal inheritance often left widows and their children destitute. While this may have been the case among some of the more Americanized families, most lineages and clans continued to support their members. In addition, a deceased man's clan was still expected to provide the widow with a new husband, usually a close relative of the deceased. On the whole, Kamenskii's (1985:33-51) fairly accurate description of Tlingit social organization, which he compares to that of the Old Testament, shows that there was very little about traditional Tlingit society that he saw as positive. Having served for a while as the inspector of the Samara Seminary and being very interested in education,'3 the priest firmly believed that through religious education the Church could do a great deal to limit the influence of "backward" parents on their children. In addition, he was determined to combat what he saw as the negative influence of the public school and the Presbyterian boarding school on the children of Orthodox Tlingit parents. As soon as he arrived in Sitka, Kamenskii revived the declining Indian parish school, although during his tenure attendance there remained lower than it had been during the height of Donskoi's educational activities. One of Kamenskii's major accomplishments as an educator was the opening of an Orthodox day school for the Tlingit in 1898. Located on Church-owned land (near Trinity Cemetery), adjacent to the old village, it served as a counterbalance to the public school for Indians whose building in the mid-1890s also served as the hall for the evening meetings of Presbyterian Natives. The Presbyterians' efforts to maintain their influence on public education for the Natives was further illustrated by the fact that during the 1896/97 academic year their mission managed to obtain a teacher's (or a teacher assistant's) job for a Presbyterian Tlingit woman named Miss Campbell, who waged a relentless Presbyterian propaganda campaign in the village (Kamenskii's Report on the Conditions of the St. Michael's Parish in 1896; ARCA, D 432). The new Orthodox day school drew some students away from the public one (Report of the General Agent for Education for Alaska, 1897-98:1607). It also served as the place for adult religious meetings which previously had been conducted in the large lineage houses. '4

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Intense competition for Native students between the Russian priest and the public school teacher was described in a letter by the wife of the local physician, Bertrand K. Wilbur, who worked at the Presbyterian hospital: The Russian church is making trouble again, having opened a school in the Ranch a few doors nearer than the Government school Miss Campbell teaches .... This school for the Natives was a new departure doubtlessly inspired by the fact that the teachers at the Government school were nearly always Protestants who had Bible reading, at least, sometime during the day. Picture a Russian priest with flowing robes and their peculiar tall headdress from which yards of black cloth hung down his back, almost covering his long hair; this man standing there and forcing them into his school! He has just come to Sitka and has a medical degree they say, although Bert [Dr. Wilbur] says he has only an apothecary's certificate, but he bribes the children with medicine and threatens them with the punishment of the Church. After Miss Campbell saw her children thus stolen, she determined to have a share in the spoils and imitated the priest by going out in front of her school and collaring the children back while she brought the sick ones to Bert .... Imagine such a thing, right in the principal street of the capital of Alaska; a Russian and an American fighting for supremacy (Wilbur n.d.:475;-76; cf. Kamenskii's report on the Condition of the St. Michael's Parish for 1896; ARCA, D 432).

Another method used by Fr. Anatolii to limit the attractiveness of the public and Presbyterian schools to his parishioners was to organize annual Christmas parties for the Orthodox Tlingit schoolchildren, involving a distribution of food and gifts as well as an entertainment program for the benefit of the parents and visiting American officials. The latter were always invited, so as to demonstrate to them the Russian Church's educational achievements. Kamenskii took special pride in his students' ability to deliver speeches and sing religious hymns and secular patriotic songs in Church Slavonic, Russian, Tlingit, and English. The highlight of one such party, held on Christmas of 1898, was the singing of the hymn "Glory, glory to the Russian Tzar" ("Yak'ei, tlax yak'ei, An60shi aankaawu") in Tlingit by the Native students. In a style reminiscent of Presbyterian writings on Native education, Sergei Popov, one of the Russian schoolteachers, described this event: "At 3 pm. the children came to the courtroom. They have never seen anything like this in their own dirty houses [baraboras J. There their only entertainment were the dances and the wild songs of their parents, telling them of some terrifying past era. Here, among the White people, they are surrounded by attention and love, entertained with games and songs, and shown real affection" (ibid.).

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The fact that their children's ability to act like "civilized White people" was being witnessed approvingly by the local American elite could not fail to please the Tlingit parents, so sensitive to Euro-American condescension and lack of respect (ROAM, 1897-98, vol. 2, no. 11:345-48; see also Kamenskii 1985:141-45). Kamenskii's other major project was the expansion of the Sitka Orphanage and the Innokentii School. In fact, as soon as he arrived in Alaska, he was given the task of developing a new curriculum for orphanages and two-grade schools in North America. To the Innokentii School's two-year program he added a third year devoted to theological subjects. The school's name was changed to the "Innokentii Missionary School." In 1897 he added another year to the school's program, during which elements of medicine and personal hygiene were introduced. Among the other subjects studied in that school were the Old and the New Testament, catechism, basic history of the Russian Church, rules of religious services, Russian, English, and Church Slavonic, arithmetic, geography, Russian and United States history, penmanship, singing, and the local Native language. In 1896-97 the school had two full-time teachers and, in addition, Kamenskii himself taught certain subjects. It was attended by fifteen boys from the orphanage and nine day students, male and female. Like Donskoi before him, Fr. Anatolii hoped that a few of the best Tlingit students would work for the Church as interpreters and psalm readers or would even continue their religious education elsewhere and become priests and deacons. This explains why he argued against Bishop Nikolai's suggestion that orphans from all over Alaska be admitted into this school. The priest insisted that only Tlingit boys should be taken in, so as to turn them into interpreters for the Church. ' 5 Thus, in 1896 he admitted three Tlingit boys to the orphanage, two of them full-blooded and one with Creole-Tlingit parentage. I6 One of the two Tlingit boys, ten-year-old Pavel Aanyaanax, a Kiks.adi of the Sitka Sun House, was indentured to the orphanage for six years by his divorced (?) mother, Mary Kaachgun, and his maternal grandmother, Sofia Kootoonook. I 7 Aanyaanax, whom the Russian clergy gave the last name "Baranov" and who eventually took his new American stepfather's last name "Liberty," graduated from the Innokentii Missionary School in 1904 and for fifteen years served the Orthodox Church with distinction in various capacities. '8 In addition to a constant lack of money, the Orphanage/Innokentii School suffered from another serious problem-anti-Tlingit prejudice that was still widespread among Sitka Creoles. Kamenskii described it as follows: "The Americans are very contemptuous towards the Natives and the local Russians are imitating them. I have on many occasions heard that the only reason why one or another Creole boy does not come to school is that he does not wish to sit next 291

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to 'a Kolosh or an Aleut'" (Kamenskii's letter to Bishop Nikolai, 3-14-1896; ARCA, D

335).19

While Fr. Anatolii's educational work bore only limited fruit, it did increase Tlingit understanding of Orthodoxy. As was the case during Donskoi's tenure, the most successful aspect of Kamenskii's program of Native education was the teaching of church singing and praying in Slavonic and Tlingit to Tlingit children and adults. In the late 1890S singing by the Native choir became an important part of church services, and this situation continued for many years.

Fr. Anatolii and His Presbyterian Enemies Kamenskii's tireless efforts to attract Tlingit children to Orthodox schools drew heavy criticism from the Presbyterian missionaries and educators as well as from Alaska's powerful general agent for education. While he was obligated to report the work of all of the Sitka schools in his annual report, he could not help mentioning that the newly opened Orthodox parish school drew students away from the public one. He also repeated traditional American criticism of the Russian Church for having too many holidays: "Throughout the winter months, festivals of the Greek Church, feasting and dancing in honor of visitors from other tribes, and in the spring, hunting and fishing greatly interfere with regular attendance [at the public school]" (Report of the Alaska General Agent for Education, 1895-96:438). It is interesting that Orthodox feast days, traditional festivities, and subsistence activities were all lumped together as obstacles to public education of Indian children. Fr. Anatolii's dislike for the Sitka Presbyterians and their powerful Washington patron, Sheldon Jackson, was as strong as their own negative attitude toward him. Soon after his arrival in Sitka he admitted into his Church several Tlingit families who had been Presbyterians before. Several of these cases involved abuse of young Tlingit men and women by the Presbyterians. In an entry in his Journal of Church Services dated March 19, 1896 (ARCA, D 410), Kamenskii mentioned baptizing a Native Presbyterian couple whose daughter had been a student at the Industrial School. The girl had run away from there along with several other female students but was caught and brought back. When her mother went to visit her, she was allegedly beaten by the school staff. Her complaint to the court about this abuse was dismissed due to lack of witnesses. The same month Fr. Anatolii baptized an eighteen-year-old Presbyterian Tlingit woman. In order to perform the ceremony he had to request her release from the local jail where she had been placed, along with her Tlingit fiance, for having run away from the Presbyterian school. She had already graduated from that school but, following 292

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her parents' wish, continued to live there. For over a year she had been asking Rev. Austin to allow her to marry a young Orthodox man, but the minister refused. Then she decided to elope with him but was caught and sentenced to three months in jail (ibid.). While these and other reports of Presbyterian abuses of the Tlingit probably contained some exaggeration, much of what Kamenskii described must have actually taken place, since several similar accounts have been told to me eighty years later (Kan 1979-95). Although the Presbyterian missionary activities were a serious obstacle to Fr. Anatolii's own proselytizing efforts, he also needed an enemy to dramatize his own work. In fact, some of the cases of Presbyterian violence against the Tlingit read like morality plays in which good (i.e., Orthodoxy) eventually triumphed over evil (Presbyterianism). For example, on August 23, 1896, Kamenskii admitted into the Orthodox Church ("through a rejection of heresy, followed by confession and communion") a twenty-year-old Presbyterian woman named Dar'ia Kal'tsex. Born in a Tlingit Orthodox family and baptized in the Russian Church, this girl had been turned over to the Presbyterian boarding school at a very young age, contrary to her own and her mother's wishes. She lived there until the age of eighteen, following the rites of the Presbyterian Church but "remaining loyal to Orthodoxy deep in her soul." According to Kamenskii, she would secretly pray at night in front of an Orthodox icon and kept her golden baptismal cross deep inside her drawer, away from the eyes of her Protestant teachers. Despite their encouragement to marry a Presbyterian man upon graduation, she married a Tlingit who did not belong to any church. A difficult childbirth accompanied by an operation resulting in the infant's death made Dar'ia even more serious about her Orthodoxy. While receiving medical assistance from the Presbyterian physician, she continued to suffer from terrible fits of convulsion and temporary paralysis of arms and legs. Interpreting her misery as a punishment from God for abandoning her Church, she began singing Orthodox prayers and drinking holy water and decided to return to Orthodoxy despite her relatives' opposition. Once she had made that step and began once again wearing an Orthodox cross, her health improved dramatically (Kamenskii's Journal of Religious Services for 1896; ARC A, D 410). The fight between the two missions over the Tlingit people's souls often involved a struggle over their bodies as well. In that era of high mortality rates in the Native community, the mission that could offer better medical care often won the hearts of seriously afflicted persons. Although Fr. Anatolii's medical knowledge and the medications that he distributed could not match those of the well-equipped and well-staffed Presbyterian mission hospital, they did challenge its monopoly on Indian health care. Weare fortunate to have the reports from 293

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both missions on this type of confrontation. According to Kamenskii (Report to Bishop Nikolai, 12-30-1895; A RCA, D 432), "Sitka at the moment has no government doctor. The population is left without any medical care. The physician living at the [Presbyterian] mission, while being supported by government money, does not consider it his duty to help every person turning to him for help. He only helps Presbyterians. As far as the Kolosh are concerned, he helps them only on condition that they abandon Orthodoxy and become Presbyterians." The Presbyterian physician mentioned by the Russian priest was no other than Dr. Bertrand Wilbur who described his competition with Kamenskii in his memoirs. According to Wilbur (n.d.:321-22), Fr. Anatolius [sic] was a huge man, big and brawny, and in his robes and high headdress looked tremendous. He was an unretiring worker, in the Ranche constantly, and while he told me he would not interfere with my patients, I found that he prescribed for anyone asking it. He had a villainous interpreter [Kharlampii Sokolov] who told lies about us right and left and while I do not believe Anatolius knew it or sanctioned it, my work was seriously crippled for a time. However, Anatolius had a genuine respect for my surgical if not my medical ability, I believe, and at his own request, was present when I operated on one of his own people. 20

Wilbur's condescending attitude toward the Russian Church is clearly expressed in another passage from his manuscript: "The Greek Church was so formal that it exerted little influence for good on the lives of the Natives, so that the older missionaries, like Mr. Austin, never felt that these people had been really converted" (ibid.:224). Despite his dismissal of his rivals, Kamenskii's medical assistance to the Sitka Tlingit turned out to be so effective that Dr. Wilbur was eventually reprimanded by the Secretary of the Presbyterian Mission Board for not spending enough time in the Tlingit community (ibid.:5ll). Fully aware of the fact that the Tlingit had always seen religious activities, physical health, and good fortune as linked to each other, neither mission was shy about using its rivals' failures to gain new converts. Thus, while Wilbur demanded that his Orthodox patients convert to Presbyterianism, Kamenskii had allegedly attributed the death of an Orthodox man, operated on by the Presbyterian surgeon, to the fact that the operation had taken place at a "heathen" hospital (Annual Report on the Sitka Mission Hospital, 1897, PHS Archives, RG 98-7-19). While the Tlingit themselves might have been puzzled by such animosity between two Christian denominations, they also took advantage of it. In June of 1896, for example, Fr. Ioann Sobolev, who was substituting for Fr. Anatolii, was visited by a young Orthodox Tlingit woman whom he described as 294

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a "big and healthy [common] woman" (zdorovaia baba). She asked for some medicine for herself, but when the priest began questioning her about her illness she changed her mind and asked for some material assistance instead, describing herself as a poor woman who had to pack her own wood. Fr. Sobolev, noticing how healthy she looked and how much jewelry she was wearing, replied politely that he was not going to pack wood for her and had no money to give to her. She then threatened to go to the Presbyterian mission from which she seemed to have already been ejected several times (Sobolev's Journal of Religious Services for 1896; ARCA, D 410). Unlike Donskoi, who tried to maintain good relations with the local American officials and even relied on them sometimes in his efforts to limit the Presbyterians' influence on the Native community, Kamenskii, who seemed to relish confrontation, became embroiled in a bitter dispute with the governor, the United States marshal, and other powerful Sitka bureaucrats. As he wrote in his "Report on the Condition of the Sitka Parish for 1896" (ARCA, D 432), "Sometimes the Presbyterian mission draped itself in a flag of American patriotism and treated Orthodoxy as an enemy of American freedom. Not infrequently it simply sided with paganism [?], just to use an opportunity to attack its enemy. Never before and nowhere else has the Jesuit principle 'the goal justifies the means' found such a shameful application as in the actions of Austin and Co. One does not even have to mention their propaganda which has some aura oflegality and enjoys the support of those local government officials who are members of the Presbyterian Church." Because the struggle with his Presbyterian rivals often brought Kamenskii into conflict with American officials, he began to present (and probably see) himself and his Church as major defenders of the Tlingit (and other Alaska Natives) against American political and economic oppression and exploitation. As he began reporting these incidents in the national Orthodox press, the Russian Church (through its bishop) passed them on to government officials in Washington, D.C. and eventually to the president himself (see below). Acting as the spokesman and defender of the "poor Alaska Natives," the Church also portrayed itself as a victim, hoping to gain the sympathy of both the national government and the Native people themselves. Without denying that Alaska Natives and the Orthodox Church had been frequently victimized by the American missionaries, secular frontiersmen, and government officials, I would also argue that this strategy was one of the few effective weapons that the weak Russian Church had at its disposaUl The following incident, which occurred in Sitka in January 1897 and was immediately reported by Fr. Anatolii in a letter to Bishop Nikolai and reprinted, 295

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with an English translation, in the ROAM (1897, vol. 1, no. l2:227-37; see also Kamenskii 1985:l23-30), is a perfect illustration of this confrontation. From the Tlingit point of view, the most interesting thing about it was probably the fact that the Russian priest, himself a harsh critic of "paganism," unknowingly ended up defending a traditional ritual practice against the innovations inspired by the Presbyterians. The fact that a Tlingit woman's dead body was at the center of this ugly interdenominational confrontation, which also drew government officials in, illustrates the missionaries' understanding of the centrality of death and mortuary rites in Tlingit culture and their determination to impose their control over these ceremonies. The incident itself could be summarized as follows. On January 21, 1897, Kamenskii was summoned to the house of an elderly Orthodox aristocrat, Stepan K'alyaan, to pray over the man's dying wife, Ekaterina Kaxtutin, a sister to the most prominent Kaagwaantaan headman in Sitka, loann L.aanteech. 2 3 However, before the priest could reach K' alyaan' s house, he was informed of the woman's death and of her relatives' plans to transfer the body to L.aanteech's own lineage house. He was also told that the reason for this was the small size of K'alyaan's house as well as the fact that the deceased woman's young son was also lying on his deathbed in his father's house. I believe, however, that the real reason for this transfer was the Kaxtutin clan's desire to perform the wake in accordance with the traditional ritual which required that the body be displayed in the deceased person's lineage house. When Kamenskii and his assistant arrived at K'alyaan's house to perform the memorial service, they discovered that the body had already been placed in a coffin and a cover for it was being finished in the next room. After the service, however, the clergymen learned that despite the fact that the coffin had already been completed (by Kaxtutin's husband's matrikin, no doubt), K'alyaan's two oldest sons from a previous marriage, who had been living at the Presbyterian mission, had ordered their own coffin to be made there. According to traditional Tlingit ritual protocol, the two Presbyterian men had committed two serious errors. First, being of the same clan (or at least the same moiety) as the deceased, they were not supposed to be involved in procuring the coffin. Second, instead of calling upon the "opposite side," they relied on an outside institution. The Presbyterian mission was, undoubtedly, delighted to assist its followers in "stamping out paganism." Fr. Anatolii objected to the two men's action, arguing that they were not supposed to go against their father's will and adding that the deceased as well as her husband and four children had all been Orthodox. In fact, Kaxtutin had been a very devout Russian Church member and had had confession and communion only a few days earlier; her main wish, according to

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Kamenskii, had been for the Russian priest to bury her properly and remember her in his prayers. The next day, when Kamenskii returned to Kalyaan's house to conduct another prayer service, he saw that the body was now lying inside two coffins, the original one having been placed inside the one brought by her stepsons who argued that this had been the government officials' order. Having initially objected to this action, K' alyaan decided not to confront his two sons until the funeral. From the priest's point of view, things got even worse one hour later. The Presbyterians were now carrying the body away in broad daylight. The procession consisted of two Indian policemen, Bean and Jackson, both active Presbyterians, who along with two other Tlingit men were carrying the coffins, followed by Rev. Austin and Miss Campbell, the teacher of the government Indian school. Behind them walked Governor Sheakley himself as well as u.s. Marshal Louis 1. Williams, the government interpreter Sergei Kostromitinov, and several American employees of the Presbyterian mission. Bringing up the rear was a huge crowd of Indians who in Kamenskii's words, "filled the air with crying, howling, and wild lamentations." As soon as the Russian priest appeared at the scene, the party quickly began to take the coffins up the steps of a neighboring house belonging to T'aawyaat. The latter was also a Kaagwaantaan house head, closely related to L.aanteech. The choice of his house must have been a compromise-on the one hand, he was of the same clan or even the same lineage as the deceased and her powerful brother and, on the other, his house had been used by the Presbyterians for their prayer meetings in the village. In response to Kamenskii's inquiries, Marshal Williams explained that this was being done following a complaint from Rev. Austin who had been asked by the deceased woman's children to intervene. According to Austin, he had been told by Kalyaan's grown-up sons that L.aanteech "was trying to rob them and that he had transferred the body to his own house under the pretense of making the coffin [?) but with the real intention of seizing her property." What this indicates is that the two young men were trying to enlist the Presbyterians and government officials in their effort to prevent a traditional procedure by which the deceased's closest matrikin-L.aanteech in this caseinherited her personal property. The irony of the matter is that the two men's own claim to their stepmother's wealth could have had some legitimacy in the traditional legal system, especially if their own mother had been a close relative of the deceased; however, neither the Presbyterians nor the government would have supported such claims; consequently, what the two were probably hoping for was that their father would retain the property and would eventually pass it on to them. 297

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Kamenskii was visibly angered. Even though he was no expert on the American legal system, he knew enough to argue that it was up to the judge and not the governor or the marshal to interfere in disputes of this kind. Defending L.aanteech, the priest told the marshal that, besides K'alyaan, the Kaagwaantaan aristocrat was the deceased's closest relative and added that it was generally very difficult "to determine kinship relations among the Indians, since none [?!] of them married according to the manner of the Whites but lived according to their own customs." Fr. Anatolii also angrily protested the marshal's disposal of the Orthodox paraphernalia which had been left inside or near the coffin. Considering this an infringement upon the Orthodox Church's rights, he threatened to refuse to perform his priestly duties during the funeral. He then went to see the governor himself to voice his complaints. As it turned out, the governor had no idea of the relationship between the deceased and the two young Presbyterian men and did not know why the coffin was being taken to T'aawyaat's house. Under pressure from him, the marshal agreed to have Kaxtutin's body returned from T'aawyaat's house to that of her husband. He did, however, object to having it taken to L.aanteech's house, arguing that the latter was scheming to take the dead woman's property. Kamenskii naively responded by pointing out that the Kaagwaantaan leader had never mentioned having such plans, but the marshal retorted by calling L.aanteech a "bad man" who was definitely planning to do just that. Kamenskii continued to defend L.aanteech, while also protesting the use of the second coffin provided by the Presbyterians. He refused to perform a funeral over a coffin bearing "heretical emblems" and offered to provide an Orthodox coffin at the Church's own expense. His offer, however, was refused. In the course of these arguments, he was accused by government officials of being "a foreigner who interfered in local affairs and tried to teach Americans how to do things in their own country." Deeply offended, Kamenskii argued that he had long given up on complaining about Presbyterian abuses but, because of the government officials' involvement in the affair, was forced to confront them. He also pointed out that many of his parishioners were American citizens. While this debate raged on, Miss Campbell had the body taken out of the Orthodox coffin and placed inside the Presbyterian one. This was too much for the Russian priest and so he wrote a letter to the governor stating that, if an Orthodox coffin could not be used, he would have to refuse to bury the woman. Once again, he offered to provide an Orthodox coffin himself. A little while later he found out that Rev. Austin and his party had already dug a grave for the poor woman in the Presbyterian cemetery and had already sent a hearse for the body. At this moment, however, some good news arrived-Fr. Anatolii was informed

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by the two Indian policemen that the judge had just ruled that K'alyaan could ignore the interference and threats from his sons and the Presbyterian mission and have his wife buried from the house of his own choice and in any coffin he liked, "even a box of crackers." (As Kamenskii well understood, the last phrase was aimed at him). Kamenskii also learned that K'alyaan was at that moment speaking with the governor and decided to join him. When he arrived at the governor's office, he found the old Kiks.adi headman, the governor, the marshal, Rev. Austin, the two Presbyterian sons of K'alyaan, the official government interpreter (Peter.Church), as well as a group of Tlingit already there. Speaking in Tlingit, K'alyaan delivered an emotional speech accusing Austin of stirring up trouble. The latter responded by blaming K'alyaan's two oldest sons who had used their father's name in making their appeal to the Presbyterians for help. The old man rejected his sons' claim and again accused the Presbyterian minister of getting involved in the affair without investigating it first. He concluded by saying that his own wish was to bury his wife in accordance with the Orthodox Church's rites. Kamenskii decided to jump in at this point to voice his long-harbored resentment against Austin and his mission. He also said that he would gladly perform the funeral ceremony, as long as the deceased's husband made such a request. After throwing some further accusations at him, the governor and the marshal agreed to have the priest perform the funeral, but only if the body went back to K'alyaan's, and not to L.aanteech's, house. Kamenskii agreed to that and promised to encourage his parishioners to accept this compromise. K'alyaan then said that he also wanted the body returned to his own house, placed in an Orthodox coffin, and buried according to Orthodox rites. However, not to offend anyone, he agreed to include the Presbyterian casket in the funeral as well. As Kamenskii wrote to the bishop, the next morning the following strange procession moved through the streets of Sitka: "Women were carrying the body of the deceased to the Russian church in two coffins, with two covers being carried in front of them. All of the participants' faces reflected if not joy then, at least, satisfaction that the body of the poor woman, although desecrated by heretics, was finally going to find rest in the ground." The Presbyterian view of this incident appeared in two publications, an article in The Alaskan (1-23-1897) and a short essay on Tlingit jurisprudence, written by Austin himself, published in The North Star (2-27-1897), the official newspaper of the Sitka Training School. According to the minister, he was simply trying to help the two "Christian [i.e., Presbyterian] men" to prevent the deceased woman's clan relatives from taking her husband's (?) property." In fact, Rev. Austin (omitting the role played by the Orthodox priest) claimed victory, point299

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ing out that his intercession helped convince government officials to prohibit Laanteech from seizing his sister's and brother-in-law's property.23 While at first sight the Tlingit in this incident might appear as helpless victims of missionary abuse, a more careful analysis would reveal that both L.anteech and his lineage, as well as the two Presbyterian sons of K' alyaan, were using their respective clergymen as allies in a struggle that had a lot more to do with property inheritance than Christianity.24 In the final analysis, neither Rev. Austin nor Fr. Kamenskii understood the real sociocultural dynamics behind this tragedylfarce, even though the latter was thrust into the role of the defender of the "old customs." In the wake of this and other attacks on the Sitka Orthodox by the Presbyterian church and its allies in the local administration, two petitions were signed by many of the St. Michael's parish members. The first one, addressed to the Russian ambassador in Washington, bears Creole names, while the other, addressed to the American president, contains the names of several high-ranking Tlingit men. The language of these documents as well as the fact that they were printed in the same volume of the ROAM that contained Fr. Kamenskii's report on Ekaterina Kaxtutin's funeral, suggest that the priest played a major role in drafting the first petition and possibly the second one as well. In fact, the first petition summarizes the fight between Kamenskii, Austin, and government officials over the Tlingit woman's funeral, emphasizing the insults that the Russian priest had to endure in the process. It also points out that the Presbyterians, who already had strong allies in the local administration, were about to gain two powerful new advocates when John Brady was appointed governor and W. A. Kelly, the former superintendent of the Sitka Training School, was made United States marshal. Speaking on behalf of the Tlingit and other Native Alaskan members of their Church, the Creoles who signed this document appealed to the Russian ambassador to inform the government in Washington about these past abuses and to ask it to urge its officials sent to Alaska to pay very close attention to future ones. In addition they asked the ambassador to appeal to the Russian emperor to appoint a special representative of the imperial government, with a right to reside in Sitka, to whom the Russian subjects and other Orthodox residents of Alaska could turn for help in cases of violation of the 1867 Treaty of Cession which guaranteed their rights and their freedom of worship (ROAM, 1897, vol. 1, no. l2:240-42; see also Kamenskii 1985:132-33). While the first request, made by a group of about seventy Creoles, must have been heeded by the Russian ambassador, no special imperial representative was ever appointed. While this appeal was orchestrated or at least encouraged by Fr. Anatolii himself, the other petition presented a series of long-standing Tlingit grievances 300

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against various American abuses but did not mention either the Presbyterian mission or the Russian Church (ROAM, 1897, vol. I, no. 12:242-46; Kamenskii 1985:134-36). Nevertheless, an entry in Kamenskii's Journal of Religious Services (ARCA, D 410), made only a few days after the "two coffins" incident, indicates clearly that he had been consulted by the Tlingit men who wrote (or dictated) and. signed the petition, since most of them were members of his parish. 25 A passage in ,Kamenskii's letter to Bishop Nikolai, written one year earlier (2-9-1896; ARCA, D 335), confirms my suggestion. According to Fr. Anatolii, in early February of 1896 he was visited by a group of Tlingit delegates elected by the Orthodox and Presbyterian parishes who asked him to appeal to the governor on their behalf to stop the sale of liquor in their village as well as the "corruption" of their wives and daughters by the various shady characters who had settled in Sitka, such as retired American soldiers and others. Using this opportunity, Fr. Anatolii led this delegation to the governor's office where he acted as their advocate and also reiterated his earlier complaints about the various Presbyterian abuses of his Native parishioners. The governor's reply, in Kamenskii's words, "was rather equivocal." The fact that Presbyterian Tlingit were willing to turn to an Orthodox priest for help indicates clearly which of the two churches they trusted more in their struggle for civil rights and economic justice. Even if it was Kamenskii himself or his interpreter, Kharlampii Sokolov, who wrote or helped draft the petition, its content reflected accurately the sentiment of most of the Sitka Tlingit in the mid-1890S. The main theme of this document was the abuse suffered by the Tlingit at the hands of the local courts with the approval of Governor Sheakley, whom the petition compared unfavorably to the previous two governors. According to this document, American murderers of Tlingit people went unpunished or received very light sentences. The problem of unequal justice in Alaska was an acute one, since most Natives were considered unfit to serve on the juries and their testimony in court was often discounted, while Euro-American jurors and judges tended to be more lenient toward nonNative defendants than toward Native ones. The next complaint made in this document was against Brady's encroachment on Tlingit land in the village and his mistreatment of Tlingit graves (mentioned earlier). Another major grievance was aimed at the superintendent of a local cannery (the Baranoff Packing Company), who had occupied the best areas around Sitka where the local Tlingit used to catch salmon. 26 Finally, the document reiterated the same complaint that Kamenskii heard from the Tlingit delegates in 1986-the Sitka headmen demanded that the government close down the saloons where Native women were made drunk and seduced by American soldiers and sailors. The wording of this demand smacks of an Orthodox influence since it equates American civilization 301

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with drinking establishments and dance halls and criticizes the kind of education that the Presbyterian boarding school offered to young Tlingit women: "We do not want education that tears our daughters away from their homes and alienates them, teaching them the English language, which only makes it easier and more profitable for them to engage in prostitution." While not all of the Sitka Tlingit would have agreed with the last statement, the anti-American, anti-Presbyterian sentiment must have been quite widespread in Sitka (and other Tlingit communities), especially among the more conservative Orthodox Native people. The timing of these two petitions is very clear: in early 1897 rumors were already circulating in Sitka that John Brady would be appointed the next governor of the territory. In fact in June of 1897, immediately after Brady's appointment, an article under the heading "The New Governor of Alaska" was published in the ROAM (1897-98, vol. 2, no. 1:11-16). Subtitled "A Letter from Sitka," it is signed "1. A.," which were undoubtedly Kamenskii's Russian initials ("ieromonakh Anatolii"). The letter mentions the Tlingit petitions against Brady's appointment and refers (rather unfairly) to the new governor as a "rampant Russophobe." It is clear that the Russian priest was actively involved in trying to derail Brady's appointment, seeing him as a close ally of the Russian mission's archenemy, Sheldon Jackson. This article is particularly interesting because it contains elements of a social reform which both the more conservative Tlingit leadership and Fr. Kamenskii himself were advocating in the 1890s. As early as 1890, a group of Stikine (Wrangell) headmen, under the leadership of Shakes, brought their grievances to the local attorney who wrote on their behalf to President Harrison. According to this letter (cited in Price 1990:53-54), the Indians "wished to be a separate and distinct people from the whites" and not wards of the government, and claimed seven vested hereditary rights including the right to be "separate from American politics," to manage their own social and family life and punish minor offenses according to their own customs, to be exempt from the restrictive federal game and timber regulations and laws, to have their titles to village sites, garden patches, and fishing streams confirmed, and to be paid when they relinquished those rights, and to penalize concubinage between White men and Tlingit women. Eight years later similar demands were made to Governor John Brady by a group of prominent traditional headmen and several younger men whom he had invited to Juneau for a special meeting (Hinckley 1970). Several of the Native spokesmen advocated the establishment of reservations for the Tlingit, while others demanded that the seizure of traditional subsistence areas by Americans be stopped and the owners of the lands already lost be compensated financially. These demands were firmly rejected by the governor, who was a firm opponent of reservations as a major obstacle to Indian progress. 302

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The model of Tlingit socioeconomic progress and eventual assimilation advocated by the Presbyterian missionaries and their government sympathizers, such as Brady, contrasted sharply with the one proposed by Fr. Anatolii Kamenskii, which he outlined in an article published in 1901 in the ROAM (1901, vol. 5, no. 10:208-10; see also Kamenskii 1985:117-22). While this essay contained a strong partisan attack on the Presbyterian boarding schools, which the priest unfairly accused of teaching Tlingit youngsters nothing but the latest styles of dress and "many other things which modern civilization should turn away from in embarrassment," it also outlines Kamenskii's own program of Tlingit moral and social "progress," which was probably shared by most of his colleagues, many of them less articulate than he was. While Fr. Anatolii rejected the idea of establishing reservations for the Tlingit and other Native Alaskans as something that had already failed in the rest of the country, he advocated a rather similar system of "communes" (sing. obshchina), each of which would receive in full ownership not only the land inhabited by its members but all of their traditional hunting and fishing areas. These communally owned tracts ofland would be closed to individual Euro-American hunters and fishermen, and especially to the large commercial companies, which had already caused a lot of damage to the traditional subsistence activities. In addition, if gold or other minerals were found on this Native-owned land, its residents should have the right to file the same claims that a White miner could file on public land. If Alaska became a state, the Natives should have the right to leave the commune and become American citizens, having passed a special examination. Each commune should be headed by local chiefs (toens) or tribal elders who, in Kamenskii's view, still retained a great deal, of influence on their people. Finally, the priest advocated the replacement of Sheldon Jackson's system of boarding schools with that of local schools which would not only teach English but "trades and crafts relevant to Indian life" (as opposed, presumably, to agriculture and European trades that the Presbyterian school taught). The local teacher should be given a great deal of power to interfere in local Indian affairs. 27 The essay concludes with a typical Orthodox invocation of Alaska's golden past when the RAe practiced its own version of paternalistic indirect rule over the Natives. Although it is easy to dismiss some of Kamenskii's arguments as Orthodox propaganda, his proposal contains some interesting ideas which could have helped save the traditional Tlingit way oflife, had they been put into practice. In fact, some of these ideas can be found in the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act of 1971 (see chapter 11). The most peculiar feature of this program is that while it clearly agreed with the demands being made by the more conservative segment 303

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of the Tlingit population around the turn of the century, it was deeply rooted in populist/Slavophile Russian ideology, which extolled the peasant commune as the only institution capable of protecting Russian peasants from both total impoverishment and capitalist exploitation. It also reflects the long-standing Russian method of governing Siberian natives (inorodtsy) through their leaders and elders (toens), mentioned earlier. At the same time, Kamenskii's program contains a serious contradiction: while he proposed that Native communes be ruled by local elders and chiefs, he also wished that non-Native schoolteachers would have a great deal of say in local affairs. This, of course, was precisely the role that government schoolteachers (many of them Presbyterians) had been playing in Tlingit villages since the 1880s. 28 Letters by Fr. Anatolii to his superiors as well as the petitions by the Alaska Orthodox that he had orchestrated and/or encouraged must have played a major role in the famous letter sent by Bishop Nikolai to President McKinley on October 5, 1898, on the eve of the bishop's departure for Russia (ROAM, 1898, vol. 3:6-9). This document, which contains the strongest criticism of America's mismanagement of its new territory, attacks the thirty-year rule of the Alaska Commercial Company in western Alaska, as well as other abuses of Native Alaskans by various commercial establishments and private individuals. It also accuses Sheldon Jackson of appointing his fellow Presbyterians and other sympathizers to key administrative posts in Alaska and calls for his removal from the post of commissioner of education for Alaska. Finally, it severely criticizes Jackson's and other American officials' and missionaries' persecution of the Russian Church and claims that the Orthodox clergy never interfered in secular affairs, except as the defender of the oppressed and the innocent in cases of serious abuse. 29 The letter concludes with an appeal to the president to honor the two articles of the 1867 treaty dealing with the rights of the Russian Orthodox residents of Alaska and its Native people. This letter, reprinted in all of the major American newspapers, caused quite a stir, but was dismissed by Jackson (see his interview in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, 1-20-1899), who reiterated an old Presbyterian argument about Orthodox priests being agents of a foreign government that supported them financially and demanded that they force their parishioners to pledge allegiance to the Russian emperor. He also called the majority of the older Russian priests "intemperate and immoral men," but admitted that some of the younger ones coming from Russia were much better and were making some progress. We do not know whether President McKinley ever boked into the accusations made by the Russian bishop, but it appears that this letter represented the nadir in the Orthodox Church's relations with the American government. In the next decade, the new Orthodox bishop of North America, 304

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Tikhon, maintained a much more cordial relationship with the United States authorities and Sheldon Jackson himself, who softened his anti-Orthodox position and even gave the Russian Church's educational activities very positive evaluations in his annual reports (Tarasar 1975:83-126).30 Brady himself, who served as Alaska governor between 1897 and 1906, turned out not to be a "Russophobe" and actually tried to learn Russian and maintain good relations with Kamenskii's successors (see below). In fact, the Brady era marked the end of the "Presbyterian hierarchy's" extraordinary influence on Native affairs and politicallife in southeastern Alaska. With the end of his governorship and Jackson's retirement in 1906, that influence became even weaker, even though the Sitka Training School continued to flourish and a significant number of Tlingit continued to belong to the Presbyterian Church.

The Establishment of the St. Michael's Brotherhood: Kamenskii's Civilizing Program and Tlingit Response 31 Among Fr. Anatolii's various missionary activities, the most important one, from the Tlingit point of view, was his establishment in 1896 of the St. Michael's Society of Temperance and Mutual Aid. Orthodox brotherhoods or societies of mutual aid developed among Slavic immigrants in North America in the late nineteenth century. Rooted in the sixteenth-century brotherhoods established by the Orthodox Church in Ukraine as a bulwark against Catholic influence, the North American brotherhoods' main goals included the preservation of Orthodox values and Slavic languages and culture among immigrants, and the encouragement of mutual aid and temperance (Tarasar 197s:I13-17). As I have already mentioned, the first Orthodox brotherhood in Alaska was established among the Sitka Creoles in 1885. Like many similar sodalities in Russia and North America, it was called "The Brotherhood of the Standardbearers of the Holy Archangel Michael."3 2 Like all other church brotherhoods and mutual aid societies it had its own uniform (consisting of badges and sashes), banner, oath, and monthly dues. The money in the treasury was supposed to be used for the upkeep of the church and to provide assistance to the organization's needy members. Each brotherhood had its marshals in charge of maintaining order during brotherhood processions, banquets, and monthly meetings. Very little documentation exists on the history of Sitka's first St. Michael's Brotherhood, but it does appear that it declined soon after its establishment. As I also stated earlier, at the end of 1891, Fr. Donskoi, alarmed by the widespread drinking and "moral decay" among the town's Creoles as well as their declining interest in Orthodoxy, revived the moribund organization. On August 305

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9, 1892, forty-eight adult Creoles signed a document (re)establishing the earlier

brotherhood of St. Michael under the new name of St. Nicholas. According to Fr. Donskoi's Report to Bishop Nikolai on the Condition of the Sitka Parish for 1894 (A RCA, D 432), by the end of that year only forty-two members remained, while "most of the Creole parishioners remained unsympathetic to the brotherhood." In Donskoi's opinion, the reason for that was their unwillingness to fulfill the sodality's rather strict statutes (especially temperance related ones). In addition, throughout its entire history, the St. Nicholas' Brotherhood was plagued by internal squabbles and factionalism as well as by the younger generation's declining interest in the Church and Russian culture. Nevertheless, this organization, which operated until the early 1920S, did make a certain contribution to the Sitka Creoles' well-being and the material support of the cathedral. In his search for a way to fight "drinking33 and the old customs, the two major evils of Kolosh life," Fr. Kamenskii decided to establish a similar organization among the town's Orthodox Tlingit. The first time he raised this idea with them was only a month after his arrival-it happened on December 27, 1895, at a religious meeting attended by about fifty Tlingit church members. After the priest's presentation on the subject of the brotherhood, many of the people present expressed their wish to join it. As Kamenskii wrote in his Journal of Religious Services for December 1895 (A RCA, D 410), in a few days he was deluged by Tlingit asking him about the new society. However, once he had explained all the rules that members had to follow, this enthusiasm dampened somewhat. There did remain a core of about a dozen younger people seriously committed to the proposed sodality. In December of 1895, Fr. Anatolii developed the statutes for the new organization and had them translated into Tlingit. On January 1, 1896, seventeen men and women were solemnly sworn in as the members of the "Orthodox Indian Society of Temperance and Mutual Aid" (ARCA, D 322). The society's statutes are a very interesting document reflecting Kamenskii's view of the negative aspects of the contemporary Tlingit culture and social life as well as his "civilizing" program. Several of the vices that the members had to abstain from, such as drinking and gambling, were those that, in his view, were brought to southeastern Alaska by the Americans. The rest were clearly rooted in the "pagan past," which the new organization was supposed to eradicate. Society members were supposed to renounce the old rites and ceremonies (literally, "old-fashioned dances") and never sponsor or take part in them. They were expected not to believe in shamans and shamanic tutelary spirits either. In addition, members were not supposed to slander, quarrel, or bear grudges against each other. In an article describing the newly created society, Kamenskii referred to this statue as being aimed at eradicating the "law of blood revenge" 306

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(ROAM, 1897, vol. 1:396-98). Mindful of the special role of death rites in traditional Tlingit culture, he added a special statute requiring members "not to perform any [traditional] memorial feasts." At the same time, as a compromise, they were allowed to take part in burial and memorial dinners (presumably conducted in the "White man's style") and receive compensation for their work, but only in cash rather than blankets. Members were also given the special honorable duty of distributing candles to the congregation during church services and standing with lit candles during the funeral of a fellow member. In order to curtail lavish funerals, a maximum of ten dollars could be allocated for the funeral of a society member, while a sick member could receive between one and three dollars a week. Special help had to be provided by the members to poor orphans and other destitute parishioners. The monthly dues were set at twenty-five cents. The society was supposed to have two chief officers-the parish priest and a Tlingit man elected by the members. A member could be expelled for breaking these rules two or three times, after a special trial conducted by the other members. During the swearing in of the society's first members, referred to in Tlingit as "the masters of clean living,"34 they made the following pledge in front of the clergy and the rest of the parish, while standing before the Gospel and a large cross: "I promise and swear before the Holy Gospel and the Lifegiving Cross that, upon joining the Sitka Brotherhood of St. Michael the Archangel, I will obey all of the statutes of this society. May God help me with all His might. As a confirmation of this oath, I kiss the Words [Holy Gospel] and the Cross of My Lord God. Amen" (AReA, D 322). The most remarkable thing about these statutes is how similar they were to the program of civilizing and Americanizing the Tlingit that the Presbyterian missionaries were pursuing during the same era. Thus, for example, a pastoral letter sent by the Alaska Presbytery to its Tlingit congregations in 1896 sounds as if it had been penned by Fr. Kamenskii,

We are sorry that some of you hold to and support the evil customs of your people in olden times and of bad whites at the present time .... We believe that strong drink and gambling, painting your faces and dancing, smoking and singing old songs for the dead, giving away your property to get high names, buying and selling slaves, paying sorcerers to treat the sick or discover witches ... are evils which keep the blessing of God away from your hearts, homes and villages (cited in Bettridge 1979:253).

Similarly, a declaration signed by the residents of the Presbyterian-sponsored "Cottages" in the mid-1890S contains a pledge "to totally abstain from all intoxi-

F IG.

6. Semeon Kakwaeesh with his bride and Hieromonk Mefodii, Sitka, mid-1890s. (Photographer unknown. Vinokouroff Collection; AHL, PCA 243-1-81)

cants and gambling, and attending heathen festivities, or countenance heathen ceremonies in the surrounding villages" (The Alaskan, 8-3-1895). With the help of my Tlingit consultants, and especially Mark Jacobs, Jr., and Harold Jacobs, I have been able to identify several of the St. Michael's Brotherhood's original members. Most of them appear to have been married couples in their late twenties and thirties. The most prominent among them was Iakov (also known as Jacob, Jack, or Peter) Kanagood, who served first as the organization's vice-president under Fr. Anatolii and eventually became its president, an office he occupied until his death in 1908. A high-ranking member of the L'ook Hit Y