ivory were to be had for the taking, so that when the Russian- American fur-ships came home, nobles and princes and the czar himself took shares in the stock, and dreamed of one day controlling, not only Alaska, but the entire coast of California.
One day Baranoff died. "The Directory at St. Petersburg sent out Baron von Wrangell, and now the baron's successor, Adolphus Etholine, a young admiral of noble birth, had come to live in viceregal splendor in the stronghold that guarded the strip of shore, the tundra moors and mountains of rainy Alaska. The business had greatly fallen off, yet Etholine was able to despatch every year to St. Petersburg peltry valued at half a million silver roubles, and his returning ships, commanded by officers of the imperial navy, brought back the luxuries of Italy, Spain, and France. Could plain old Baranoff have looked in upon their mirrors and carpets and curtains and candelabra, he would have torn his beard in Russian rage and sworn a big round oath at these degenerate days.
At dawn Governor Etholine and several officers assisted Chief Factor Douglas and his companions to disembark. Sitka was a dirty village, full of drunken Indians, reeking with all imaginable smells, through which they hastened to the steep flight of steps leading up to the castle.
Etholine's drawing-rooms, with portraits of the czars, decorated walls, damask-draped windows, waxed floors, and heavy carved furniture, quite surprised the Hudson's Bay officials, who, in their plain quarters at Vancouver, had studied comfort rather than display. Here was a fur company that certainly had no greater income than their own, yet everywhere were signs of extravagant display and costly living.
