1. The Opening of the Mission and the First Period of Its Activity (Cont.) (2)

It is not hard to imagine the feelings with which the missionaries themselves approached the place of their work. There they were already at the goal of their nearly year-long wandering. As they approached Kodiak, they saw outlines of land somewhat resembling the outlines of the shores of their native monastery, but the thick “sea vapor” (fog) showed them that they were now in a completely different land, at the very edge of the world. No wonder they had spent almost a full year in travel. And here they were in the land of pagans, whom they were to call to the light of Christian faith. This land had only recently been discovered by Russians and secured to the Russian scepter, as evidenced by a copper plate displayed prominently bearing the inscription: “Land of Russian possession.” Kodiak Island is about 160 versts long and from 20 to 130 versts wide in different places[1]. It bears all the marks of volcanic origin, or at least of volcanic upheavals, as its surface is broken up as if by the titanic work of a volcano. Russian traders had already established themselves there and obtained some European comforts of life. They lived in a fortress (in the harbor of St. Paul), and there they had barracks for workers, a hotel, a hospital, and a portable church. The Russian population consisted of 225 men, who were mostly scattered about on trading activities, and this handful of Russians lived among a mass of native population numbering up to 8,000 people. The natives stood at a very low level of development[2]. They lived in yurts, usually situated along the shores of rivers and bays, and their main occupation was fishing. The nature of their island was poor and unsuitable for agriculture or livestock raising, but the sea provided them abundant catch—so abundant that at times fish could be caught in the bays and river mouths without any equipment, simply with bare hands. It is true that at times they suffered greatly and starved severely, but when favorable times came, they rejoiced and ate their fill, having roasted and steamed the caught fish on a heap of heated stones, which served them both as a cooking place and as a bath. By their origin, the konyagi probably formed a branch of the great Asiatic people gradually spreading from Asia through the chain of islands of the Great Ocean to the very mainland of America; but in their customs there were already many more peculiarities proper to American natives, with whom they were in frequent contact, than to Asiatics. They were warlike, like all American Indians, dressed in cloaks sewn from bird skins, and were almost never parted from their spear and bow (their only weapons), being constantly ready to conduct military attacks—either from tribal revenge and injury, or simply from a desire for plunder. Before the arrival of the Russians, nearly continuous and bloody wars raged among them, and the chiefs, or so-called toions, had masses of captives, who ordinarily made up their main wealth and inalienable property, which they could dispose of at will, give, exchange, or even kill. Wars were maintained also by the fact that complete lawlessness prevailed in the land, there were no laws or institutions for punishing crimes, and thus each person was left to himself to avenge any wrong or injury done to him. The same disorder prevailed in family relations. Marriage had not developed into any definite form, and while polygamy was predominant, there were also not infrequent cases of polyandry, when one strong woman had several husbands. On the whole, however, woman was in an oppressed and wretched condition, and the most insulting insult, necessarily requiring revenge with weapons in hand, for a konyagi was to be called a “woman.” In strange contradiction to this was the fact that the konyagi greatly loved their children, never punished them, and taught them various trades, and if they sometimes gave them as hostages to the Russians, they always carefully inquired about their fate. Despite all the savagery of their condition, they were not without already more or less developed religious ideas. They believed in an afterlife, as evidenced by their care for the dead, who were buried with certain symbolic rites. Since in the konyagi’s view the afterlife was a continuation of this life, tools necessary for fishing were placed in the earth with the dead, and sometimes a favorite slave (kaig) was killed and buried with the deceased, so that he might serve his master there as well. The idea of retribution in the afterlife was represented in the form that good people would always have success in their fishing, while evil people would constantly suffer misfortune and hunger. Religious understanding was in its most undeveloped state. They had the concept that over everything rules Agayon, a good Spirit, without whose help people could not exist on earth, as it was He who taught people to make yurts, to build baidakas (boats necessary for fishing), to catch animals, and so on. But His being, as well as His activity, they conceived of as something necessary, so that as a result they rendered the good Spirit no honors and no gratitude. On the contrary, since alongside Agayon there existed also “Iak”—an evil spirit, who constantly tried to harm people—to appease him, the konyagi offered him various propitiatory sacrifices, danced in his honor in special strange garments, and generally did all that in their understanding could soften the evil nature of the treacherous iak. In general, this was a completely wild people, truly “knowing no law,” except the natural law, and even that was greatly distorted and obscured by barbarism. To lead this people out of the darkness and shadow of death surrounding them to the light of Christ’s truth was the task that faced the arrived missionaries.

Having looked around somewhat in unfamiliar surroundings and familiarized themselves with the chief conditions of their activity, the missionaries zealously set about their work. First of all, they naturally sought to strengthen in faith those already baptized, and through their teachings and also through the solemn performance of divine service brought them great comfort, attaching them ever more firmly to Russian faith, and through them influencing other natives as well. The general impression they formed was that the natives presented a fertile and already prepared soil for sowing God’s word, and they began to prepare for missionary journeys. With particular zeal did two hieromonks, Makarius and Juvenal, take up the work, and between them there even arose a curious dispute about which regions each should take under his care, as each of them wanted to take as much as possible. When Father Juvenal insisted that it was he who should be entrusted with enlightening Alaska, Makarius, “covered with sadness and assuming a sorrowful expression, spoke movingly: No, father, do not force me out; you yourself know that the chain of Aleutian Islands is joined with Alaska, so it must necessarily fall to my portion, and from there the entire northern coast; you, if you will, can be content with the whole southern part of America for your entire life.” This dispute concerned that part of America which was later reddened by the martyred blood of one of them, and thus the dispute was about who would be granted this martyrdom crown in Christ’s name! “I, on hearing such a debate,” notes Herman, “was filled with such joy that I was transported with delight!”[3] Having divided their preaching territories among themselves, both missionaries in the autumn of that same year traveled throughout Kodiak Island and baptized the majority of its inhabitants[4]. Encouraged by this success, the missionaries in the following year expanded their activity and set out to neighboring islands to carry on their “fishing for men.” Of them, the hieromonk Makarius set out to the nearby Aleutian Islands, where he labored from May 25, 1795 to June 24, 1796. The results of his labors were very comforting: in this short time, through his kindness and good treatment of the savages and especially their children, he succeeded in winning them over to the faith and baptizing 2,472 people and celebrating 536 marriages, among which were 36 couples of Russian men with Aleut women—a sign of the newcomers’ close intermingling with the natives. For his part, the hieromonk Juvenal in 1795 moved to the American mainland, to the land of the Chugach, and baptized about 700 of them. Emboldened by success, he penetrated into Kenai Bay, in the land of a very fierce and hostile to Russians people, the Kenai. Animated by zeal for spreading the light of Christian faith in this realm of darkness and barbarism, he feared no dangers and had such influence on the savages that they were persuaded by his arguments and were baptized. From there he moved further to Alaska, to Lake Iliamna or Shelikhov, and there too began his holy work. His preaching was so successful that not only did the savages accept the Russian faith, but they gave the preacher their children so that he might teach them the truths of the new faith. One thing alone did not please the savages—that the Russian preacher rebuked them for polygamy and required those baptized to have only one wife, leaving others. Since polygamy was a deep-rooted custom and the whole structure of family and social relations of the savages was based on it, it was difficult for them to abandon this structure, and they could easily become suspicious that this strange newcomer had come to them to abolish polygamy and thus weaken their people and make them an easy prey for their many surrounding enemies. In any case, a feeling of hostility toward him was born among the savages, and it grew quickly when Father Juvenal left them, taking with him the children entrusted to his instruction. When the dormant suspicion grew into a feeling of fear, the savages immediately resolved to send a pursuit after him, to recover the children, and to put an end to the missionary, which they indeed did. It is unknown how and under what circumstances this attack took place, as no official information was gathered about it. But the accounts heard later by the missionary, the priest John Veniaminov (who later became Innocent, Metropolitan of Moscow), paint a portrait of the brave missionary in the best light. “Father Juvenal, according to these accounts, at the attack of the savages, did not think at all of resisting or fleeing, which he could have done successfully, especially as he had firearms with him; but he surrendered himself to them without any resistance and only asked mercy for his companions, which was granted. Long afterward the Americans themselves related that Father Juvenal, even after being killed, rose and walked after his killers, saying something to them. The savages, thinking him alive, attacked him again and beat him; but as soon as they withdrew from him, he again rose and followed them, and this was repeated several times; finally, to be completely rid of him, the savages tore him to pieces. Only then did the zealous preacher, and, one might say, the martyr of God’s word, fall silent, but the power of his word did not fall silent: at the place where the preacher’s remains were, a smoking column then appeared, stretching toward heaven, according to accounts.”[5] This account of the savages, in any case, shows what a strong impression Father Juvenal made upon them, and how much conscience spoke in their crude, barbarous hearts even after his murder.

The other missionaries, remaining at the center of their position on Kodiak Island, labored no less zealously to establish the fruits already acquired. They performed divine service, to which gathered both Russians free from their work and newly baptized natives, some of whom were being trained to participate in the service and to sing to Christ whom they had come to know. Thus, both to adults and especially to children, the beginnings of Christian doctrine were taught, and for the latter, gradually a special school was established, where instruction in Russian literacy and writing was carried out. The young generation proved capable of learning, although much patience was needed to overcome the laziness and carelessness of their wild, barbarous nature, which instinctively resisted such an unfamiliar occupation. Soon there arose even the idea of establishing another school in which natives capable of serving in church offices could be prepared—something like a basic seminary, since sending them to Irkutsk seminary was found to be very inconvenient and difficult. At the same time, the Valaam monks, faithful to the stern school of their native monastery, eagerly engaged in their leisure hours in gardening, horticulture, and agriculture, and the savages, becoming accustomed to these cultural pursuits under their guidance, came to respect their spiritual fathers even more[6].