Читать книгу Sir John A.'s Crusade and Seward's Magnificent Folly - Richard Rohmer - Страница 10

December 16, 1866

St. Petersburg

Both sides of the tall, arched doors to the anteroom swung open to reveal the Emperor’s principal secretary. The wizened old man’s eyes, more shortsighted than ever, searched the expansive waiting hall until the stopped at a blurred figure in the distance.

“Minister de Stoeckl?” came the tentative inquiry.

“It is I, Oleg Vladimir Ivanovich,” de Stoeckl replied.

“Good. His Imperial Majesty will see you now.”

De Stoeckl, broad-shouldered, heavy-set, neither tall nor short, strode the length of the marble-floored waiting room, the heels of his polished black boots making a loud, reverberating clacking, so much noise that he knew it would be useless to speak to the hard-of-hearing old man until he stopped next to him.

“Oleg, old friend. It’s been two years since I saw you last. How are you keeping? I must say the time has touched you lightly.”

The ancient retainer chuckled. “Lightly? Perhaps. But with a brush that has lightly diminished my sight, lightly curtailed my hearing, but even so, has increased my enormous attractiveness to the opposite sex.”

De Stoeckl threw back his head and laughed heartily. “If they’re after your body, Oleg …”

“Yes, minister, I know. If they’re after it, let them have it. But then there are so many that I have to consider rationing.”

De Stoeckl became serious. “Speaking of many, are they all here?”

The secretary motioned him inside the anteroom, then shut the doors behind them. “Yes.” He nodded. “The Tsar, the Grand Duke, Foreign Minister Gorchakov, the Minister of Finance, Mr. De Reutern, and Vice Admiral Krabbe.”

As the old man spoke, de Stoeckl’s eyes took in the paintings of the Tsar’s ancestors that adorned the silk-covered walls. It was appropriate that all who had received an audience with His Imperial Majesty should be made to understand or, indeed, be reminded of his powerful lineage. De Stoeckl stared at the huge portrait hanging to the right of the door leading to the conference room. It was of Peter the Great, whose striking face of physical strength, vast intelligence, and extraordinary determination inspired de Stoeckl on the rare occasions when he was privileged to see it.

He walked slowly beside Oleg, who began to shuffle his way across the deep Persian rug toward the entrance to the Tsar’s chamber.

“I expected everyone but Krabbe. Why is he here?” de Stoeckl asked.

“Simple, my dear minister.” Oleg’s reedy voice was lowered as they approached the door. “Minister Gorchakov thought that the Admiral should be present because as Marine Minster he has special knowledge of the affairs of the Company which, as you know, is in dreadful condition.”

“Dreadful indeed,” de Stoeckl agreed.

For decades the wealthy and powerful Russian American Company had developed and controlled the expansion of the business of hunting the valuable sea otters and seals and latterly whales and fish, as well as trading in those and other commodities along the northwestern shores of North America. Moreover, the Company possessed and claimed sovereignty over those lands and waters in the name of the Tsar.

But now the Company was in dire straits. In 1857 the value of a share of the Company stock had been a gratifying 500 rubles. In the intervening nine years disaster had befallen the organization. The herds of seals and sea otters in Russian America had been depleted by uncontrolled hunting almost to the point of extinction. Trade with the Americans had virtually ceased during the American Civil War when most of the resources of the United States had been concentrated on the resolution of its bloody conflict. The Company had fallen on such hard times that its shareholders could get no more than 75 rubles for a share and were lucky if they could find a buyer. In reality the Company was bankrupt and its principals had had no choice but to plead with the Tsar and his minsters to have the government take it over.

The plight of the Russian American Company was only part of the question that the Tsar’s secret “Committee of Tomorrow” would have to resolve at this meeting. More importantly the Committee would also have to decide the fate of the Tsar’s North American territorial possessions. Should Russian America territories be sold and the Company terminated? There was no question in de Stoeckl’s mind as to what should be done, but it would be His Imperial Majesty’s decision alone after he had received the advice of his senior ministers.

The chamber was a corner room designed in order to enable the now-long-forgotten architects to utilize the two outer walls for broad windows that stretched from the floor to the relatively low, ornate gilt ceiling. The windows were lightly draped so that on that brilliant day they allowed shafts of warming sunlight to fall across the room. The other two walls harboured massive fireplaces, each leaping with flame as they and the sun’s heat made the Tsar’s chamber passably warm against the piercing wintry cold.

Dominating the room was a long conference table with seating for ten on each side. At the far end was the high-backed, elaborately carved chair in which the Tsar now sat, with the Grand Duke on his right side, Gorchakov on the left. All the chairs to the right of the Grand Duke were empty out of deference to his station. To Gorchakov’s left were de Reutern and Krabbe, the Vice Admiral in full uniform while the others at the table were in their high-collared shirts and black cut-away business suits in emulation of His Imperial Majesty.

De Stoeckl, his valise in hand, walked to the table and made a deep bow toward the Tsar, who acknowledged the salute with a curt nod of his head, then motioned de Stoeckl to sit next to Krabbe. Like the others, the Vice Admiral, a monocle clenched in his left eye, was engrossed in reading a document, a copy of which had been passed to each of the participants before de Stoeckl’s arrival.

There was, however, no copy for de Stoeckl, so he took his reference papers out of his valise and busily arranged them in order on the table as the Committee members continued to read — with the exception of Foreign Minister Gorchakov. The Tsar’s most influential minister sat back in his chair, his large stomach touching the table’s edge. His face was upturned toward the carved and figured ceiling. He had gazed at it unseeingly countless times during interminable conferences and meetings over the past two decades of his power at the left hand of the Tsar. Gorchakov’s ever-present pince-nez was clamped to the broad bridge of his bulbous nose. That was the predominant feature of a round, pink, flat and heavily jowled face made further unattractive by a pate bald except for a few feathery wisps of grey hair.

In his mid-sixties, Gorchakov was gross of body, brilliant of mind, and weary of the heavy burdens of his office, the never-ending dealings in battles and wars, diplomacy, and the petty politics of the court.

The document the rest were looking at was Prince Gorchakov’s analysis of the Russian America territorial problem, the Russian American Company debacle, and the presentation of his solutions.

When the Tsar finished reading he turned to his brother, asking: “Well, what does His Imperial Highness think?” The brothers never called each other by name in the presence of non-family members.

The Grand Duke Constantine, as was his wont, stroked his greying brown beard and ran a finger across his moustache — a sign that he was giving serious thought to the question. With his pale blue eyes and straight, grey-flecked brown hair he looked remarkably like his older sibling, Alexander.

Constantine tapped the document he had just read. “I cannot fault Minister Gorchakov’s line of reasoning, which is the usual position I find myself in with regard to his advice.” He smiled across the table at the trusted Foreign Minister. “Let me say, Your Majesty, that as I have striven to rebuild your navy —”

“With astonishing accomplishment and success,” the Tsar broke in.

The Grand Duke modestly dropped his eyes for a moment and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. “Your Majesty is most kind. In rebuilding the navy and having sailed to every one of your Pacific ports and those in the Sea of Okhotsk, I have become most anxious that all effort be made to concentrate on strengthening our forces in those areas, so far distant from St. Petersburg. I think, Your Majesty, that you should bend every effort, do everything possible, to devote the entire solicitude of your government to your possessions there and on the Amur River. These possessions form an integral part of the Empire and in every aspect offer more resources than the northern coasts of our American possessions and are readily accessible by land, whereas Russian America can be reached only by hazardous crossings of the North Pacific.”

Gorchakov’s huge head bobbed in silent agreement as Constantine continued. “Not only are our American territories inconveniently distant from the mother country, they have no real trade or resource importance for Russia — at least not in these times when the furs taken there have so diminished and where our trade has been so curtailed by events.”

The Grand Duke’s eyes moved to those across the table to look for signs of approbation. He certainly knew where Gorchakov stood. And de Reutern, the financial expert, could not help but follow in his logic. As for Krabbe, he might react negatively to his next statement.

“As I say, the necessity to defend Russian America against the Americans — or the British — will continue to be difficult as it is expensive. Perhaps nearly impossible is a better description than difficult.”

He could see Vice Admiral Krabbe shifting uncomfortably. Constantine went on. “As you are aware, Your Majesty, the affairs of the Russian American Company, particularly in regard to control, discipline, and administration at Sitka, became so inadequate that it was necessary to install a naval captain as governor. He has had to be supported by a substantial group of naval personnel and ships and stores that, because of urgent commitments and requirements on the direct coastal perimeters of the Motherland, we can ill afford.”

Constantine looked at Krabbe, whose eyes immediately turned away. After all, what Constantine was proposing would amount to a diminution of the role and power of the navy, even though that lessening was being proposed by the very man who had restored the Imperial navy to the strength and stature that it had achieved more than a century before under Peter the Great.

“Therefore, Your Majesty, the grounds that I proffer — the near-impossibility of defending your American possessions and the cost of sustaining and maintaining the now bankrupt company — on these grounds I consider it urgent that you cede your American territories to the United States … that is to say, sell …”

“If you recommend that we sell to the United States, why not offer to the British as well?” the Tsar asked.

The only minister at the table who had the stature to intervene without being first invited by either the Tsar or his brother did so.

Gorchakov said, “If I may be permitted, Your Majesty, there is no doubt that, from a business point of view, when an object is offered for sale the best price will be received when there are two bidders therefore. So it might indeed be better to offer your American possessions to both the United States and Great Britain. Certainly the British would be prepared to pay handsomely for much the same reason that would motivate our American friends. It is the natural need for territorial expansion of one’s boundaries, particularly so if one can do so by negotiation and purchase rather than by war.”

Gorchakov paused and looked around the table. Satisfied that he had everyone’s attention, he continued. “The colony of British Columbia needs to be supported by the government of her Britannic Majesty. Your American possessions lie immediately to the north of that colony, so it would be a perfectly natural acquisition that would strengthen the colony and in particular the Hudson’s Bay Company. You will recall, Your Majesty, that we were able to negotiate a treaty with Britain that grants the Hudson’s Bay Company the right of passage to the Pacific on rivers that flow from British North America — the border between your lands and the British being some twenty miles inland from the coast.”

The Foreign Minster adjusted his pince-nez. “For that matter, the treaty grants all British vessels the free right of access and transit on those rivers and streams between their possessions and the Pacific. This was all in consideration of the British recognition of the neutrality of your American possessions during the war between us and the British.”

“Quite so,” the Tsar acknowledged. “And what about the intelligence you mentioned to me the other day about the British colonies in the eastern part of the continent negotiating for the right to have their own parliament?”

“Our information is that the political heads of the various British colonies in North America are negotiating in London with my counterpart, the British Foreign Secretary, and with the Colonial Secretary, for legislation that would unify all the eastern colonies into one under a federated form of government. The intent is that the sovereignty of the British Crown in North America will be solidified ultimately from the Atlantic to the Pacific and thus would eventually embrace British Columbia and Vancouver Island.”

“And if that is so,” the Tsar observed, “it follows that the British and … what is it they call themselves?”

“I’m not sure, Your Majesty.” Gorchakov turned and looked down the table. “De Stoeckl?”

“They call themselves Canadians. What the new federation will be called remains to be seen.”

Alexander was satisfied. “So the British and their colonials in America as well as the prosperous Hudson’s Bay Company will be most anxious, to say the least, to purchase from us.”

Constantine responded. “Oh, but Your Majesty, can you really contemplate giving the British anything of an advantage over the Americans? After all, we have just been through a bloody, humiliating war with the British in the Crimea. We’re still licking our wounds from that one. Their hostility toward us and their arrogance continue. I respectfully suggest that it would be totally unacceptable to the people of Russia if your American possessions were offered to the English Queen.”

Heads around the table nodded in agreement as Constantine paused.

“On the other hand,” Constantine continued, “there is a strong bond between us and the Americans. There have never been any differences between us. Indeed there have been continuing acts of friendship, not the least of which was the safe harbouring of our entire fleet in American ports during the Crimean War.”

Gorchakov took off his pince-nez to emphasize the point he wanted to bring to bear. “Furthermore, Your Majesty, de Stoeckl reports that certain high officials in the American administration have expressed serious interest in Russian America. As for the British, there has been no expression of interest whatever.”

The Tsar leaned back in his chair, fingertips before his face, as he contemplated what he had just heard. It was his customary signal that all talk should cease while he thought. In a few moments he leaned forward. “It seems to me, gentlemen, that you have assumed I have made a decision to sell. But I have not heard from all of your as to your respective positions. So perhaps, Minister de Reutern, you might be good enough to let me have the benefit of your views.”

The Minister of Finance was a tall man, gaunt with deep-socketed dark eyes and a hank of white hair that hung over his forehead. He would have preferred not to have to say anything at all. He was extremely apprehensive and nervous whenever he was in the presence of his Emperor and doubly so when he was required to express an opinion. However, he was prepared for this question. Rather than leave it to chance, he had written out his response. His hands shook slightly as he took the folded paper from his pocket and spread it on the conference table.

The Tsar was amused. He had seen this same performance many times before and was sympathetic to the man’s discomfort.

De Reutern spoke hesitantly. “If it may please Your Majesty, I prepared a brief statement setting out my position from the viewpoint of my responsibilities as Minister of Finance.”

Taking Alexander’s silence as permission, de Reutern read: “The Company to which the exploitation of the American colonies was confided has been unfortunate or inept. It is maintained at this time only by artificial means which will scarcely be able to prolong its existence.”

De Reutern glanced at the Tsar, then continued. “As I see it, Your Majesty, the Imperial Government has two alternatives. It is obliged either to come to the assistance of the Company, which is near bankruptcy, with considerable financial aids, or to take on itself the administration of the Company’s affairs which will involve sacrifices no less burdensome.

“For these reasons and having regard to the state of your national treasury and the requirements of your Imperial government and the Russian people, I recommend, Your Majesty, that a disposition of your American possessions be undertaken with the greatest possible haste.”

De Reutern folded up his sheet of paper, adding gratuitously, “I have no comment, or at least I don’t have an opinion, as to the question of whether the territory should be offered to the British as well as the Americans. But I will say this: As we all know, when gold was found in the region near Sitka, thousands of Americans made their way north and into your territory, Your Majesty. The only reason they did not stay and take de facto possession was that the gold find did not prove to be valuable enough. The point is, the way things are going, one of these days the Americans will probably take possession whether we like it or not and we won’t be able to do anything about it. Nothing. So why not sell to the United States or, for that matter, to the British? As Finance Minister I say, Your Majesty, that your treasury urgently needs money, and we should get as much as we possibly can out of such a transaction.”

De Reutern cleared his constricted throat, unused as it was to the utterance of so many words one after another. “And I say to Your Majesty that, on the other side of the coin, there is an urgent need to cut off the huge amount of money already being spent to support your American possessions, let alone those that will have to be made if the Company is to be salvaged.”

De Reutern had been as articulate without notes as anyone at the conference table had ever heard him.

“We are grateful to you, Minister de Reutern,” said the Tsar. “You made your points effectively and persuasively.”