I alighted at the baron Stenheil's, formerly capitan ispravnick, or inspector of Kamtschatka, an office afterwards conferred on M. Schmaleff. Our acquaintance had commenced at Bolcheretsk. I was delighted to be able to converse with him in several languages, particularly that of my own country, though it was not very familiar to him; but it was French, and I conceived him to be my countryman. Whoever has quitted Europe to travel in so distant a part of the world must have had similar feelings. We consider every man as a fellow-citizen who belongs to the same continent, or speaks the same language. The most trivial circumstance that reminds us of our country, is productive of a very sensible pleasure; the heart is eagerly drawn towards the friend, the brother, whom we conceive we have found, and feels an instant desire to repose in him all its confidence. The sight of M. Steinheil imparted to me this delicious sensation. There was in his conversation, from the very first moment, an irresistible attraction. I felt a sort of craving to see him, to talk with him; it had the effect of a charm, though his French, as I have said, was not the most pure, and was pronounced with the German accent. I spent the day of 4 February with the baron, and in the evening M. Kasloff arrived as he had previously informed me.
The ostrog of Machoure, before the introduction of the small-pox, was one of the most considerable in the peninsula; but the ravages of this cruel disease, have reduced the number of inhabitants to twenty families.
All the Kamtschadales of this village, men and women, are chamans, or believers in the witchcraft of these pretended sorcerers. They dread to an excess the popes or Russian priests, for whom they entertain the most inveterate hatred. They do all they can to avoid meeting them. This is sometimes impossible, and in that case, when they find them at hand they act the hypocrite, and make their escape the first opportunity that offers. I attribute this fear to the ardent zeal which these priests have doubtless shown for the extirpation of idolatry, and which the Kamtschadales consider as persecution. They accordingly look upon them as their greatest enemies. Perhaps they have reason to believe, that in wishing to convert them, the overthrow of their idols was not the only thing these missionaries had in view. These popes probably set them no example of the virtues upon which they declaim. It is suspected that their object is the acquisition of wealth, rather than of proselytes, and the gratification of their inordinate propensity to drunkenness. It is not therefore to be wondered at that the inhabitants retain their ancient errors. They pay a secret homage to their god Koutka[69], and place in him so entire a confidence, that they address their prayers exclusively to him when they are desirous of obtaining any boon, or of engaging in any enterprise. When they go to the chace, they abstain from washing themselves, and are careful not to make the sign of the cross: they invoke their Koutka, and the first animal they catch is immediately sacrificed to him. After this act of devotion they conceive that their chace will be successful; on the contrary, if they were to cross themselves, they would despair of catching any thing. It is also a part of their superstition to consecrate to Koutka their new-born children, who, the moment they have left their cradle, are destined to become chamans. The veneration of the inhabitants of this village for sorcerers can scarcely be conceived; it approaches to insanity, and is really to be pitied; for the extravagant and wild absurdities by which these magicians keep alive the credulity of their compatriots, excites our indignation rather than our laughter. At present they do not profess their art openly, or give the same splendour they once did to their necromancy. They no longer decorate their garments with mystic rings and other symbolic figures of metal, that jingled together upon the slightest motion of their body. In like manner they have abandoned the kind of kettle[70], which they used to strike with a sort of musical intonation in their pretended enchantments, and with which they announced their approach. In short, they have forsaken all their magic instruments. The following are the ceremonies they observe in their assemblies, which they are careful to hold in secret, though not the less frequently on that account. Conceive of a circle of spectators, stupidly rapt in attention and ranged round the magician, male or female, for as I have before observed, the women are equally initiated into the mysteries. All at once he begins to sing, or to utter shrill sounds without either measure or signification. The docile assembly strike in with him, and the concert becomes a medley of harsh and insupportable discords. By degrees the chaman is warmed, and he begins to dance to the confused accents of his auditory, who become hoarse and exhausted from the violence of their exertions. As the prophetic spirit is excited in the minister of their Koutka, the animation of the dance increases. Like the Pythian on the tripos, he rolls his ghastly and haggard eyes; all his motions are convulsive; his mouth is drawn awry, his limbs stiffened, and every distortion and grimace is put in practice by him, to the great admiration of his disciples. Having acted these buffooneries for some time, he suddenly stops, as if inspired, and becomes now as composed as he was before agitated. It is the sacred collectedness of a man full of the god that governs him, and who is about to speak by his voice. Surprised and trembling, the assembly is instantly mute, in expectation of the marvels that are to be revealed. The self-created prophet then utters at different intervals, broken sentences, words without meaning, and what ever nonsense comes into the head of the impostor; and this is invariably considered as the effect of inspiration. His jargon is accompanied either with a torrent of tears or loud bursts of laughter, according to the complexion of the tidings he has to announce; and the expression and gesture of the orator vary in conformity to his feelings. I was furnished with this account by persons entitled to credit, and who had contrived to be present at these absurd revelations.
There seems to be some analogy between these chamans, and the sect called quakers. The quakers pretend equally to inspiration, and there are individuals among them, who, guided by its supposed impulse, hold forth in their silent meetings, and break out in piteous lamentations, or sudden starts of extravagant joy. The difference is this: these prompt orators harangue extempore upon the subject of morality, whose fundamental principles they endeavour to recommend; whereas the Kamtschadale declaimers understand not a word of what they utter, and only make use of their mysterious and hypocritical jargon to increase the idolatry of their stupid admirers.
At Machoure the intelligence which M. Kasloff had before received from Bogenoff, an engineer, was confirmed. He had been sent along the river Pengina to fix upon a situation for a town, and trace the plan of it, with directions to proceed afterwards by the western coast of Kamtschatka as far as Tiguil, and make an exact map of the country as he passed. On his arrival at Kaminoi[71], he told M. Kasloff that he had met a considerable number of revolted Koriacs, who came out to intercept his passage, and prevent him from executing his mission. It was now added to the account, that they amounted to a body of six hundred men, and that we should not probably be permitted to advance. This was melancholy news, for me particularly, who longed to arrive at Okotsk, as if it had been the end of my journey, or as if I could thence reach France in a single day. How distressing the thought, that there was no other way but through this village, and that I should perhaps be obliged to turn back! My impatience made me shudder at the very idea. M. Kasloff participated my feelings, and was of opinion with me that the report ought not to stop us. It might not be accurate; the narrators might have given it an air of importance, to which it was not entitled; their fears might have magnified it; and each perhaps had made some addition to the story. These considerations led us to doubt, and we resolved to satisfy ourselves in person of its truth, thinking it time enough to have recourse to expedients if the rebels were actually to oppose our passage. We were presently encouraged by the arrival of an express to M. Kasloff, who had met with no interruption, and who assured us that every thing had the appearance of perfect tranquillity.
At break of day I took leave of the baron de Steinheil, with equal regret and gratitude for his kind reception, and the attentions he had paid me during my short visit. His information and accomplishments rendered him a truly interesting character[72].
We travelled this day sixty-six wersts upon the Kamtschatka, the ice of which was very firm and perfectly smooth. I saw nothing remarkable in my way, nor in the village of Chapina, where we arrived at sun-set.