Part 4

The population amounts to about five or six hundred inhabitants, who are either merchants, or in the service of government. The latter are most numerous, and form the garrison of the place. They are kept under the severest discipline, which is indispensible, from the frequent occasion there is to defend themselves. The circumspection and zeal of the governor in this respect cannot be surpassed. Their tribunals are the same with those of Nijenei Kamtschatka.

The commerce of Ingiga consists of furs, and particularly the skins of rein deer. It is in general superior to Kamtschatka both in the variety and quality of its skins. It is true that we get the otter and sea wolf-skin from that peninsula, but the sables of Ingiga are much finer, though they are at the same time scarcer. The Kamtschadales besides have no common martens[22], rabbits, or American rats, called _rissei_, which the Koriacs get by means of exchange from the neighbouring Tchoukchis, and which they bring to Ingiga with their rein deer-skins. These deer-skins are sold in their raw state, and at a very good price. They are afterwards tanned and manufactured with such surprising art, that the laborious activity of the workmen supersede the necessity of instruments invented by European industry. The skill and beauty of their work can only be surpassed by its durableness. Gloves and stockings come from their hands in a state of perfection. Their sewings and embroideries are wrought with the hair of the rein deer, with silk, and with gold, and would do credit to our most skillful glovers.

But it is time I should speak of the customs of the Koriacs. I have only deferred my account so long that I might be more minute. To the imperfect observations which I have myself made in passing through their different ostrogs, I shall add others that are more exact, and derived from unquestionable authority. In my conversations with M. Gaguen and the principal inhabitants, I endeavoured to derive some light upon the subject; but my chief source of information was a Koriac, whom I shall here introduce to the reader.

My first acquaintance with him was at Kaminoi. Struck with the civilities which M. Schmaleff bestowed upon him, I was curious to know the rank and situation of this personage. He was, they informed me, a _zassédatel_, or Ingiga judge, and was come to meet us to offer us his services. The facility with which he expressed himself in the Russian language, and the rectitude of his mind charmed me. I should have taken him for a Russian, if I had not heard him a moment after speak his native tongue. I understood also that he was a Koriac prince, called _Oumiavin_, and brother to one of the chiefs of the wandering Koriacs.

Curiosity led me to ask him a thousand questions. He answered with a shrewdness and sagacity that I had not observed in any of his countrymen. The being able to talk with him without the assistance of an interpreter, rendered his conversation more valuable, and during my short stay at Kaminoi it was a source of instruction and amusement to me. Of the various topics upon which we discoursed, that of religion was the most interesting. Though equally informed respecting the Russian and the Koriac mode of worship, he in reality professed neither. He seemed disposed however to be baptized, and only waited till he was better instructed upon certain points which he did not comprehend. Full of admiration at the sublimity of the Christian morals, and the majestic pomp of its external worship, he acknowledged that nothing could give him a greater desire to become a convert to it; but the imperious severity of some of our religious rites[23], the uncertainty of celestial happiness, and particularly the idea of a God threatening eternal torments, filled him with inquietude and dismay. With all its visions and all its absurdities, the religion of his country, he said, offered him at least more hope than fear; its punishments were confined to the present world, and it promised him a recompence in the next; the evil spirit could only torment him during his life, and happiness awaited him at his death. Agitated by these considerations, his mind floated in continual doubt and perplexity. He dared neither abjure, nor continue stedfast in the faith of his fathers. He blushed at its errors, yet his heart cherished them.

The simplicity with which he avowed his irresolution, interested me the more, as I could discover in his conversation and in his heart, an uncommon fund of virtue, and a singular love of truth. To fix his wavering mind, it would have been first necessary to clear away the prejudices that obscured it, and which had originated from the false principles that he had imbibed. Any other person would perhaps have undertaken the talk. I was deterred from it by the fear of not succeeding in my attempt, from the short time I should be able to spend with him. He arrived at Ingiga the day after me, as he had promised, and rendered me very considerable services by his endeavour to furnish all the information respecting his country that I desired, and to supply me with what I wanted for the continuance of my journey.

There is in many respects a great resemblance between the fixed and the wandering Koriacs: we cannot therefore but wonder at the little cordiality, or rather at the misunderstanding that subsists among them, on account of which they may be considered as two different people. Their country however is the same, and takes in a vast extent, terminated to the south by the peninsula of Kamtschatka, and the gulf of Pengina; to the east by the country of the Oluterians; to the north by that of the Tchoukchis, and to the west by the Toungouses, the Lamouts, and the Yakouts.

It is confidently asserted that this country was formerly very populous, but that the small-pox had made very considerable ravages. I doubt whether it has carried off more of the inhabitants than their frequent contests with their neighbours and with the Russians. The number of fixed Koriacs scarcely exceeds at present nine hundred; and though it is not easy to calculate that of the wandering Koriacs, it is imagined that they do not much surpass this amount.

The manners of the former are the reverse of estimable, and are a mixture of duplicity mistrust, and avarice. They have all the vices of the northern nations of Asia, without the virtues. Robbers by nature, they are suspicious, cruel, incapable either of benevolence or pity. To procure the least service from them, it is first necessary to offer, and even to give them some recompence. Nothing but presents can excite their attention, or rouse their activity[24].

From this perfidious and savage disposition, it would not be easy for them to live in peace, or form any durable ties with their neighbours. So unsociable a spirit must also give them an abhorrence of all foreign dominion. Hence their continual insurrection against the Russians, their atrocious robberies, their daily incursions on the people who surround them; hence the respective animosities and revenge that incessantly spring up.

This state of war foments in every individual a ferocious spirit. The practice of attacking, and of defending themselves, creates in them an inflexible courage that delights in perpetual combats, and glories in a contempt of life. Superstition lends its aid to ennoble in their eyes this thirst of blood, by imposing a law that obliges them to conquer or to die. The more important is the cause that calls them to arms, the more greedy are they of death. Neither the bravery, nor the number of their adversaries, can at all intimidate them: it is then they swear _to destroy the sun_. They discharge this terrible oath by cutting the throats of their wives and children, burning all their possessions, and rushing madly into the midst of their enemies. The combat can only terminate by the total destruction of one of the parties. The vanquished never seek their safety in flight; honour forbids it; and not a Koriac will survive the slaughter of his countrymen.

The vicinity of the Russian settlements has hitherto produced no change in the mode of life of the resident Koriacs. Their commercial intercourse with the Russians, only renders them susceptible to the attraction of wealth, and desirous of plunder. Insensible to the advantages of a more polished life, they seem to feel a repugnance to civilization, and to consider their own manners and customs as absolutely perfect[25].

Their regular occupation is hunting and fishing; but every season will not permit them to follow it. During these intervals, shut up in their profound habitations, they sleep, smoke, and get drunk. Thoughtless of the future, without regret for the past, they come not out of their yourts till the most urgent necessity compels them. These yourts are larger than those of the northern Kamtschadales, but are distributed nearly in the same manner. I am not sure whether their filthiness be not still more disgusting: as there is neither door, nor _joupan_, or vent-hole, the smoke must be insufferable.

These people, enemies to industry, live like the Kamtschadales upon dried fish, and the flesh and fat of the whale, and sea wolf[26]. The whale is commonly eaten raw, and the sea wolf dried and cooked in the same manner as their fish, except the sinews, the marrow, the brain, and now and then a slice of the flesh, which they devour raw with extreme avidity. Rein deer is their favourite dish. Vegetables also form a part of their food: they gather in autumn various sorts of berries, of a part of which they make themselves a refreshing beverage[27], and the rest is bruised to powder, and kneaded with the oil of the whale, or sea wolf. This paste, or sweetmeat, is called _toltchoukha_; it is held in high esteem in this country, but nothing is to my taste more disagreeable.

Their passion for strong liquors, increased by the dearness of brandy, and the difficulty of procuring it on account of their extreme distance, has led them to invent a drink, equally potent, which they extract from a red mushroom, known in Russia as a strong poison by the name of _moukhamorr_[28]. They put it in a vessel with certain fruits, and it has scarcely time to clarify when their friends are invited to partake of it. A noble emulation inflames the guests, and there is a contest of who is best able to disburden the master of the house of his nectar. The entertainment lasts for one, two, or three days, till the beverage is exhausted. Frequently, that they may not fail of being tipsy, they eat the raw mushroom at the same time. It is astonishing that there are not more examples of the fatal effects of this intemperance. I have seen however some amateurs made seriously ill, and recovered with difficulty; but experience does not correct them, and upon the first occasion that offers, they return to their brutish practice. It is not from absolute sensuality, it is not from the pleasure of drinking a liquor, that by its flavour creates an irresistible craving for more; they seek merely in these orgies a state of oblivion, of stupefaction, of total brutishness, a cessation of existence, if I may so call it, which constitutes their only enjoyment, and supreme felicity.

The features of the majority of the Koriacs are not Asiatic, and they might be considered as Europeans, but for their low stature, their ill shape, and the colour of their skin. The other Koriacs have the same characteristic outlines as the Kamtschadales; among the women particularly, there are very few who have not sunk eyes, flat noses, and prominent cheeks. The men are almost entirely beardless, and have short hair. The hair of the women is very much neglected; it commonly flows upon their shoulders, though there are some who wear it in tufts, or wrapt up in an handkerchief. Their dress I have already described.

The women carry their children in a sort of cradle, the form of which I thought singular. It is a kind of nest or basket arched over, in which the infant is placed in a sitting posture, and sheltered from the weather.

Among their strange customs I shall mention the probation to which a young man subjects himself when he is desirous of marrying. As soon as he has fixed his choice, he waits upon the relations of his mistress, and offers to drudge for them, as the phrase is. The young lady is immediately enveloped in a multiplicity of garments, which conceal her to such a degree, that the face itself is scarcely visible. She is not left alone for a single instant; her mother, and a number of old matrons accompany her wherever she goes sleep with her, and do not lose her from their sight upon any pretext whatever. The aim of the lover, the point of happiness to which all his cares tend, is to touch her naked body, the only way by which he can obtain her. In the mean time he executes with zeal and submission all the functions that the relations impose on him. Become as it were the slave of the family, he is employed in all the domestic labours, to cut wood, fetch water, provide ice, &c. Love, and the presence of his intended, inspire him with courage. If he relax, a single look, however indifferent, is sufficient to make him forget the fatigues and drudgery of his servitude. The hope of abridging its duration influences all his actions. His eye is invariably fixed on the idol of his heart, he watches her motions, follows her steps, and intrudes himself incessantly in her way. But how deceive the Argus eyes of the duennas that surrounded her! It is a continual contest of vigilance against cunning; each party acts with equal zeal and perseverance. From such assiduities, from the agitation of the lover, and the precautions that are taken to counteract his manœuvres, one would suppose that he was about to carry off some extraordinary beauty. Who would imagine that the object of the thoughts and desires of this whining Koriac, was ugliness itself, and that he aspired to no other reward for so many exertions, than to touch a callous, yellow, greasy skin? In his leisure moments, at liberty to see and approach his mistress, he endeavours to merit her affection by some sly attempt to obtain a touch; but the number and thickness of her garments are an invincible barrier. Enraged at so many obstacles, he tears and pulls off this teazing dress. Woe betide him if he be surprised in his rash attack! The relations, the inexorable spies, dart upon him, and force him to relinquish his prize. It is commonly by the eloquence of the foot, or a stick, that they entreat him to withdraw, and find some better opportunity. If he resist, he is dragged by the hair, or the nails of these old hags are imprinted on his face. If he be disheartened, or murmurs at this cruel treatment, he is instantly dismissed, and forfeits for ever all claim to the alliance, which is considered as the most signal disgrace that can be inflicted on a Koriac lover. But difficulties only render his desires more vehement. Far from complaining, far from desponding at these rigorous proceedings, he considers himself as the more worthy of the felicity he has in view. He rejoices, he glories in all the tribulations he experiences during his amorous and painful servitude. It is frequently not till after the expiration of two or three years, more or less, that he obtains his end. Elate with his victory, he flies to inform the relations of his success. The witnesses are summoned, and the young lady interrogated[29]. Her confession is necessary, as well as some proof that she was taken by surprise, and made fruitless efforts to defend herself. Her hand is then bestowed on the conqueror, but he is obliged still to wait till it is seen whether she can reconcile herself to living with him. From this moment, freed from his labours, he makes his court without restraint to his future wife, who is not perhaps sorry to find herself delivered from her cumbersome attire. This second stage of courtship is seldom very long; the damsel, in the presence of the family, soon accords her consent, and nothing more is requisite to give him all the claims of a husband. The nuptial ceremony and feast consist merely in assembling the relations of the parties, who are eager to get drunk in imitation of the new married couple. A plurality of wives is not allowed among the Koriacs; I have seen instances however of its being practiced without scruple.

Their funeral rights have a striking similarity to the ancient institutions of paganism, still observed by various uncivilized people of the new hemisphere. When a Koriac dies, his relations and neighbours assemble to pay him their last respects. They erect a funeral pile, upon which they place a portion of the wealth of the deceased, and a stock of provisions, consisting of rein deer, fish, brandy, in short whatever they conceive he will want for his great journey, and to keep him from starving in the other world. If it be a wandering Koriac, his deer conduct him to the pile; if a resident Koriac, he is drawn by his dogs, or carried by his relations. The body is exhibited, clothed in his best attire, and lying in a kind of coffin. There it receives the adieux of the attendants, who, with torches in their hands, consider it as an honour speedily to reduce their relation or friend to ashes. They feel only the regret of a short absence, and not of an eternal separation. They wear no mourning, and the funeral pomp terminates in a scene of intemperance, where the fumes of their liquor and tobacco gradually efface the remembrance of death. After a few months widowhood, the women are permitted to marry again.

The superstitious practices observed at their funerals, and their transient grief at the loss of persons the most dear to them, are in my opinion an evident proof of their indifference to life, the brevity of which neither astonishes nor afflicts them. Their religious system deadens them apparently to the consoling hope of a protracted existence. Death is in their eyes but the passage to another life; and in quitting the world, they do not imagine that their pleasures terminate, but that other enjoyments are reserved for them. This flattering prejudice, which I mentioned in my conversation with Oumiavin, sufficiently accounts for his religious perplexities, and the ferocious courage of his countrymen. But their absurd dogmas are entitled to a more particular relation, though the worship upon which they are founded is very simple, and what is marvellous in it by no means attractive. The following account contains the whole theogony of the Koriacs[30].

They acknowledge a supreme being, the creator of all things. He inhabits the sun, whose burning orb they consider as the throne or palace of the lord of nature, whom they probably confound with that celestial fire, which is supposed to be his dwelling. I am led to believe this, as they neither fear, nor worship him. They address no prayer to him: goodness, they say, is his essence; all the good that exists in the world proceeds from him; and it is impossible he should do an injury. May we not conclude from this statement, that the view of the constant and universal benefits conferred by this king of the celestial orbs which gives life, action, and power to all things terrestrial, while it taught them to consider this luminary of the world as their tutelary divinity, imbued them with the blind confidence I have described?

The principle of evil they consider as a malignant spirit, who divides with the sovereignly good being the empire of nature[31]. Their power is equal. As the one is intent on the happiness of mankind, the other endeavours to render them unhappy. Diseases, tempests, famine, calamities of every kind, are his work, and the instruments of his vengeance. It is to pacify his wrath, that they sacrifice their personal interest, and have recourse to devotion. Their homage is dictated merely by the terror with which this menacing deity fills every heart, and consists of expiatory sacrifices. They offer to him various animals, that have just began to exist, rein deer, dogs[32], the first fruits of their hunting and fishing, and whatever they possess that is most valuable. Their devotional exercises consist of supplications and thanksgivings. There is no temple, no sanctuary set apart for his votaries. This fantastic god is equally worshipped in all places, and hears the Koriac who prays alone to him in the desert, as well as the assembled family, who conceive that they render him propitious by piously getting drunk in their yourt; for drunkness is become with these people a religious practice, and the basis of all their solemnities.

This demon, this formidable spirit, is doubtless the same being as the Koutka of the Kamtschadales, whose ministers and interpreters the chamans consider themselves. Here, as in the peninsula, the mystic language of these magicians works upon the credulity, and obtains the veneration of the multitude. They exercise physic and surgery with equal success. These exclusive functions, which are supposed to be aided by inspiration rather than the light of experience, procures them an unbounded power. They are sent for from all parts of the country, and testimonies of gratitude heaped upon them before-hand. They demand with haughtiness whatever they please, and consider every thing that is given them as a tribute. It is upon the pretext of making an acceptable offering to the god, whose organ they are, that they appropriate to themselves whatever the inhabitants possess, that is most costly and beautiful. It is not necessary to suppose that these imposters gull their votaries by a parade of virtue, by rigid observances, and a more scrupulous life; on the contrary, they surpass them in their vices, and fall short of them in sobriety. On the eve of their magic ceremonies, they pretend indeed to fast all the day, but they make up for this abstinence at night by a profusion of the moukamorr, the intoxicating poison I have described, which they eat and drink to satiety. This preparatory intoxication they consider as a duty. It is probable that they feel its effects the next day, and that they derive from it an elevation of spirits that contributes to derange their minds, and give them the necessary strength to go through their extravagant transports.

The idiom of the Koriacs has no affinity to that of the Kamtschadales; their pronunciation is more shrill, and slower, but it is less painful, and has not those uncommon sounds, those hissings, as difficult to be uttered as they are to be written.

I have still to give an account of the wandering Koriacs; but not satisfied with the information I have obtained upon the subject, I shall wait till my arrival at the house of Oumiavin’s brother, where I shall have an opportunity of ascertaining its truth, by comparing it with the objects that will be immediately before my eyes.

From the time of my arrival at Ingiga, M. Gaguen, in compliance with my entreaties, had been employed upon the means of hastening my departure as much as possible. Had it depended on myself, I should not have stopped more than twenty-four hours; but unfortunately my dogs were fatigued, and there were very few to be procured throughout the whole town, and these not in the best condition[33]. It was therefore proposed to me to take rein deer, which I accepted the more readily, as I hoped to travel the quicker, and as I had long been desirous of trying this mode of conveyance. I was not left in ignorance of the inconvenience attending it. I had to expect greater risks, more fatigue, and less repose; but my impatience made me regardless of every thing but the possibility of proceeding, and the pleasure of being able to judge for myself of the speed of these animals.