This is the story of a princess in distress and of the knight who came
to her rescue. It is the story of why, in the mid-1800’s, the Russians suddenly packed up and left California. It is also the story of how a name in the Russian language took root on an obscure body of water high up in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The body of water isn’t really all that significant; nor, I suppose, is this story of how this all happened. But it’s a story from a time long past; a time the like of which we will never see again. This was a time when a different breed of men and women walked the mountains and valleys of California; an era in which being a man on the frontier was intricately interwoven with a time-honored code which often demanded that gentlemanly behavior shine forth from a gruff exterior; a time when being a lady on the frontier meant accepting the dangers offered by both the untamed land as well as the men attempting to tame it, and facing both of these dangers with bravery and equanimity. This was also a time when a princess once walked the mountains of California; the daughter of a Russian Tsar; a young woman who came to California to see for herself the wonders of which she had heard so much while sitting at the side of her father at the Russian court– and, it was rumored, to perhaps set herself on a throne as Tsarina of California. This was a time when both men and women Dreamed of Large Things, and it was a time when California offered the possibility of such dreams coming true. The princess’s connection with the Sierra Nevada Mountains is a tenuous one, but because it involves a story of courage, chivalry, and unrequited love; and most of all because it is a story which history has largely forgotten, it is a tale which should be retold. At the time of the Princess’s arrival in California, the Russian presence here was reaching its peak. Russia had first begun its explorations by ship along the coast of North America in the year of 1552, but hesitantly restricted its explorations to those of the nautical kind for almost two centuries. It wasn’t until the 1760’s that Russian settlers first established their permanent presence in North America, as those two centuries of surveys had disclosed a wealth of animal life to be had for the taking – for the very profitable taking. They began by settling onto a group of islands off the coast of Alaska, and then soon went on to the mainland where, under orders from Catherine the Great in 1784, the first permanent Russian settlement was founded at Three Saints Bay. They continued spreading eastward, claiming more lands as they went. The natives were not at all pleased with the Russian invaders and offered frequent resistance to the intrusions. In response the Russians employed the time-honored method of Conquering through Conversion; baptizing the natives into a submissive acceptance of God’s Will; God’s Will, in this case, being the uninterrupted flow of profits of the Russian-American trading company. The Russians began to establish a presence in California in 1803 when American maritime merchants proposed a partnership to Alexandre Baranov, the head official of the Russian American Company, for seal hunting along the California coast, all the way south to Baja. The Russians eagerly accepted and began to send ships as well as overland parties to scout the possibilities in California. The reports sent back to Baranov were encouraging, painting the picture of a temperate climate, natives which could offer no serious resistance, and millions of acres of available land. So Baranov began to make plans for establishing a foothold in California to complement the one they already had in Alaska. The year 1805 saw a new hand take the helm of the Russian American Company – Count Nicholas Petrovich Rezanov, a man who, through marriage, manipulation, skill, and a lot of luck, had become a major shareholder in the company. He first went to tour the colonies in Alaska where he was surprised to see his fellow Russians dying of scurvy and starvation. He immediately outfitted a ship and set sail for California because he hoped, from the stories he’d heard, that food would be found in abundance there. Since they as yet had no settlement in California which was producing food, Rezanov pinned his hopes on the Spanish settlers showing pity and selling the Russians some badly needed supplies. They arrived in San Francisco Bay in late March of 1806, where they found their small ship massively outgunned by the Spanish. Rezanov met with the Commandante of the bastion, Jose Arguello, to flex his diplomatic skills and talk the Spanish out of some badly needed supplies. Arguello wavered. He felt sorry for the starving Russians, so he didn’t sink the one pitiful ship they had sent for help. Yet he also knew of their expansionist intentions, so he really didn’t want to encourage them by feeding them. Almost a month of unsuccessful negotiations passed with no result, during which time Rezanov knew that more of his people were dying every day in Alaska. Still, Rezanov wasn’t going to return home with nothing to show for it. So while he negotiated with Arguello he also secretly sent his ship’s captain out with a party of sailors to explore the area and gather as much information as they could. Then he hit upon a new – or actually, a centuries old – negotiating strategy, and offered to marry Arguello’s daughter, Concepcion. She was said to be strong willed, yet she was also beautiful. And, if union with her was the price that must be paid for food, Rezanov was willing to pay it. True, Concepcion was only fifteen years old, but that didn’t bother Rezanov. His first wife back in Russia had been only fourteen years old, and her early death had led to the inheritance which had moved Rezanov into a controlling position within the Russian American Company. Rezanov’s proposal of marriage was promptly accepted by both the young lady as well as her father, the Commandante. The wedding was held with all the pomp and ceremony that the 1806 village of Yuerba Buena could summon, and then the supplies were quickly loaded on Rezanov’s ship. The basic items of flour, beans, salt, and other staples soon filled every hold, and they only regretted that fresh fruit to alleviate the scurvy would not survive the month long voyage which lay ahead. Rezanov kissed his fifteen year old bride goodbye and, after six weeks in California, set sail back to Alaska, calling out to her from the ship’s deck that he would soon return. He never did return, of course. Nor did he ever have any such intention. But the telling of lies is often a necessary part of every diplomatic negotiation. Yet Concepcion waited patiently for his return. One year later, when word of his death in Siberia reached her, she adopted wearing black in mourning for the husband she barely remembered. The cause of his demise was officially recorded as Death from Exhaustion. One can only wonder if his predilection for marrying young teen girls had anything to do with this. Yet this sad story is not the romantic tale mentioned above; not the promised love story which has hopefully kept you reading this far, and for which you are perhaps now getting impatient. For that you must read just a bit further. Rezanov, meanwhile, managed to save all the remaining Russian colonists in Alaska from starvation, so he became a hero. And, based upon the reports of the secretive surveys of California he had undertaken while he was stuck there, he recommended to the Russian emperor that a permanent colony immediately be established in California to halt the northward advance of the Spanish. The emperor agreed and sent out two ships to the California coast with instructions to lay claim and to bury metal plaques on the land they claimed as proof of the legality of their activities, should the need of such proof arise. One such plaque was buried in the year 1809 at Bodega Bay. Three years later, in 1812, the Russians returned to start a permanent colony, the final location of which was settled upon about fifteen miles north of Bodega Bay, and it became known as Fort Ross. (The words ‘Ros’ and ‘Rus’ are root words in the Russian language meaning ‘Russia’.) Fort Ross quickly became a hub for Russian activity in California. Russian ships used the nearby bay as a home port to exploit the hunting grounds for seal and otter. Smaller settlements were established to the north and east to grow food with the help of native labor. The village of Russian River was one of those communities which soon sprang up, lending its name both to the river and the community. Hunting parties were sent out not only for food but also to search for availability of fur bearing animals to increase the trade. Some of these exploration parties went as far eastward as the Sierra Nevada Mountains, climbing into them and even over onto the eastern slopes. And this is how a Russian name became applied to a location high in the Sierra – perhaps the only Russian name in all of the Sierra Nevada Mountains; Rush Creek. Originally it was named Rus Creek – ‘Rus’ for the Russian connection mentioned above, and ‘Creek’ because the name Russian River had already been applied to that rapidly flowing body of water near Fort Ross. The name later got Anglicized to Rush Creek, and later appeared on maps with that name. But it was first Rus Creek, first named by the Russian explorers who found it, who marked its name, and who probably never returned. In the meantime Fort Ross grew in size. The redwood forests of northern California grew all the way to border of the settlement, so there was plenty of wood available for construction. A wooden palisade was erected to enclose the main parts of the settlement. Within this enclosure were two military blockhouses, complete with cannon. A well was dug in the center. Management housing was arranged along the walls along with barracks, storerooms, and a chapel. Native laborers lived outside. A few of the men involved in the management of the Russian American Company had brought their wives over to California to keep them company in this strange land, but for the rest of the all-male population of company employees, Russian women were not to be found, so many of the colonists took native brides. They lived with them outside of the compound in a village which, over the years, saw the growth of a large population of part Russian, part native children. The Spanish, for their part, were shocked to discover that they suddenly had neighbors just a short distance away from their northernmost outpost of Yuerba Buena. The Commandante of Yuerba Buena was rightfully cautious, even suspicious. But the Russians, on the other hand, were friendly and issued invitations for the Spaniards to visit Fort Ross any time they wished. Social contacts on the frontier were scarce, and any representative of the civilized life they had all left behind were welcome friends as far as the Russians were concerned. When the Commandante and his officers finally did get around to paying Fort Ross a grudging visit, they were amazed. Unlike the Spanish, who had brought only the necessities of life north from Mexico with them, the Russians had made the effort to make life a bit more cultured in their remote outpost. There was at least one grand piano in the fort, and many of the Russian officers and company officials were proficient upon its keys. They melodies of Mozart and Beethoven filled the air. A sumptuous meal full of European delicacies was proudly presented to the visiting Spanish, which they washed down with fine French wines. After the meal there were cigars and brandy in the library – a library full of hundreds of works of literature and history. But the Russians were not out to impress their neighbors; they were merely intent on making life as intellectually stimulating and as comfortable as possible for themselves. And so the Spanish and the Russians became friends – if only on the local level – and tenuously remained so for many years. The amount of furs being sent back to Russia grew constantly, and the fame of California grew in the Russian Court. Life at Fort Ross was good. The senoritas from the south side of the bay came north to flirt with the Russian officers in their impressive uniforms on the north side of the bay. Dances were held on both sides. There was much good food; plenty of fine wine; many opportunities to hold someone close as the music played. As the fame of California and Fort Ross grew back home in Russia, it came to the attention of the Princess Helena de Gagarin, and she told her new husband that she wished to visit this fascinating place on their honeymoon. Being of royal blood, she also apparently saw the opportunity for staying in California as its new Tsarina. She arrived in California not only with her new husband, but also accompanied by two of Russia’s finest navy vessels. She quickly became the center of attention at the fort, and all activity seemed to focus around her. She excelled in horsemanship and went riding frequently through the hills and valleys, and once went all the way to the top of a mountain where she affixed a plaque naming it after herself. On the way back to Fort Ross the Princess and her party were accosted by a band of natives. Her guard of officers were pulled from their horses and tied up, and the Princess was taken to the leader of the native party who pondered what to do with her. The Princess got the distinct impression that she was about to have a new husband. At about this time a lone Spanish calvalry officer came riding up the road and introduced himself as the brother of General Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo, the Commandante of Yuerba Buena. Looking at the trussed-up Russians and the frightened Princess – the very beautiful frightened Princess – he asked the native leader about his intentions. The native began to dither. It seemed that he knew and respected Commandante Vallejo, and he didn’t want a bad report of his activities to get back to him. So the officer asked the chief to wait for him to return with his brother, the Commandante. Then, with a warm smile for the Princess, he rode off. When he was out of sight of the natives he whipped his horse into a lather and rode like hell as fast as he could to Yuerba Buena. There he explained the situation to his brother and the officers serving under him and then they all rode like hell back to rescue the Princess. Her rescue was easily accomplished, as the natives did not wish to incur Vallejo’s wrath. After a brief stopover in Yuerba Buena to allow the Princess to freshen up, Vallejo personally escorted her back to Fort Ross. The Lady in Distress had been rescued, and Vallejo received a hero’s welcome. But from the Princess he received much more. The Princess, it seemed, was much more grateful to the Spanish soldier than a newlywed wife on her honeymoon should have been – with any man other than her husband, that is. She was smitten by the gallant officer and, even though they both knew it was a hopeless situation, Princess Helena managed to give her rescuer a parting gift when she and her husband soon left California forever. Helena whispered into Vallejo’s ear that he, the Spanish, and the Mexicans would soon be relieved of the presence of the Russians on California soil; that upon returning home she would persuade the Tsar that the California colonies should be abandoned. This was to be her gift to her Knight In Shining Armor; her Caballero. She was good to her word. Shortly thereafter the Russian government sold Fort Ross to John Sutter and left California forever. Most historians would tell you that the Russians left California because the fur trade, by this time, was dying; that the pelts both at sea and on land were just getting too difficult to find. The historians would also tell you that Mexico was pressing Fort Ross from the south, Americans from the east, and there was a mad collection of mountain men in their own back yard forming something called the Bear Flag Revolt. They would tell you that these things were all too much for the Russian settlers; that it was easier for them to just pack up and leave, so they did just that. They would cite this litany of facts with the confidence born from thoughtless repetition. But isn’t it enticing to think that perhaps, between two people whom history barely remembers; between those two whom fate brought together in a chance encounter; chivalry, gentlemanly behavior, a code of frontier honor, and unrequited love all played an unremembered role in the chess game of history as empires from around the world moved their pieces across the chess board of North America; that just two small people made such a big difference, and a small body of water in the Sierra Nevada Mountains got named in the process.
1 Comment
5/3/2018 09:32:51 pm
This is a very interesting story. Thank you for sharing it. It is the first time I have heard this explanation of why the Russians left California. Where did you find this story?
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AuthorWith a degree in Anthropology and an avid interest in history, Tim Christensen has lived in the Sierra Nevada Mountains for many years. He has no cell phone or television, but manages, when not chopping firewood or shoveling snow, to keep himself entertained with a library of several thousand books. Archives
July 2017
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