INDIAN GOLD

THE RUSSIANS NEVER FOUND

For three blankets, tow axes, a pound of brightly colored beads and a pair of trousers, the Pomo Indians sold a thousand acre of flat land to Ivan Kuskov in 1811. For the Russian Czar it was a tremendous bargain but for the Muscovite commander it was a personal calamity. The trousers involved in the barter were Kuskov’s own – his only ones – which the Indian chief coveted and without which he wouldn’t complete the trade.

Kuskov had been preceded by other Russian excursions before he concluded his historic deal for the site of Fort Ross, located on the seaside bluffs about 80 miles north of what is now known as San Francisco.

Vitus Bering had pioneered the exploration in the northern wastelands and he was followed by Alexei Chirikov who landed in 1741 on the mainland of what is now called Alaska. The area abounded with seal, sea otter and bear, whose rich furs led directly to the organization of the Russian –American Fur Company.

Tales of tragedy, wanton murder and cruelties were common as these men hunted and trapped for the incredibly valuable furs, some of which brought as much as $2,000 apiece. It wasn’t uncommon for entire bands of hunters to disappear forever into the snowy wastes, or simply vanish in the cottony fogs which frequently hung over the icy waters. But the Russians overcame such dangers and disasters by using Aleut Indians to do their hunting, holding their women as hostages until the furs were safely delivered. When an area was exhausted, the Russian hunters occasionally destroyed all evidence of their cruelty and perfidy by simply blowing up entire villages, then later returning to kill any possible survivors.

Gradually the hunters moved southward and poached in the warmer waters off the coast of Spanish California. But it wasn’t until 1806 when Nikolai Rezanov suddenly sailed into San Francisco Bay, ostensibly to take on supplies and water. He was warmly welcomed by the gracious Californians, (especially the lovely Concepcion Arguello, whose tragic love story has been a classic in early California), and these people implored him to stay and enjoy their hospitality. Rezanov did.

It was six weeks before he weighted anchor, taking with him the enduring love of Concepcion, the firm opinion that the Russians should make a determined bid for an outpost on the Pacific shores. Death overtook Rezanov somewhere in Siberia but his reports and opinions were forwarded to the Czar. Kuskov arrived and concluded his historic swindle with the Pomo Indians, and he was followed by a series of commandants who pressed their hunters to greater efforts in harvesting the rich crops of furs available to those with the courage and skills to go after them.

The last Muscovite commandant was Count Alexander Rotcheff and his luscious, golden-hair bride, the Princess Helena Gagarin. The Count assumed command of the Fort Ross in 1829. The gay young couple hadn’t forgotten the happy days of revelry in the Czarist courts and Fort Ross immediately became the scene of seemingly never-ending parties to relieve the tedium of being isolated at this dreary outpost. The so-called California first families had a suspicion of such carryings-on but the winning charm of the Rezanovs gradually overcame their animosities and they frequently enjoyed the hospitality of the Russians.

At one of these gay affairs in 1837, a long forgotten minor army officer gave Princess Helena a small stone with a dull yellow cast. The officer said an Indian had found it in a stream whose bed was solid with similar stones. The Princess graciously thanked the soldier, showed the Count the gift, which he dropped into his, pocked and promptly forgot.

The dreary rooms of the Fort Ross rang with laughter and music until the time the slaughter of fur bearing animals was complete and there seemed to be no further prospect of profit. As soon as the company begain to lose money, word came from St. Petersburg to dispose of the Fort Ross property to the best bidder and return home.

Happily a John A. Sutter, who was to play an all-important part in later California history, saw an opportunity in purchase of the fort and a deal was struck without much difficulty. The Count and the Princess set sail for home in 1841. But before they left, both enjoyed the hospitality of Captian Sutter for several weeks. In one of the trips the Captian sponsored, they rode to a far reach of his vast holdings along the American River. At one point, they inspected the site where Captian Sutter said he wanted to later construct a sawmill to harvest and process the fine stand of lumber in the area.

It was there too that the Count, uncomfortable all day from a small object pressing on his thigh, extracted a small stone, which reflected a dull yellow glint. Angrily he threw the heavy pebble into the stream in the area Sutter’s finger pointed to where his foreman, John Marshall, would later build a saw mill and find a similar golden-laden nugget in 1848.

SOURCE: Real West, Volume 33, January 1964. By Bob Jan