with business ones; the political representative of Germany would be
also the manager of the firm, so that if one kind of reasoning did not
work, then another might. Anything became constructive insult or
opposition to the Empire of Germany--even a sort of lèse majesté or
suspicion of treason. Business and the navy supported each other, and
on a small scale the story of the “John Company of India” was repeated,
with the same cruelties and atrocities more easily noticed because of
foreigners being there, because of our modern institutions of the press
and the telegram.
AN ACCOUNT OF RESIDENCE AT VAIALA
Our friends Seumanu and Faatulia tell us, with much emotion, how
Malietoa, now the king, wept with them when he went off a half voluntary
prisoner of the Germans, hoping that by his sufferings his country would
be spared bloodshed; and that in some way or other the Europeans would
desist from their grasping demands. Then Mataafa headed the resistance
which two years ago saved his race from the extermination threatened by
the Germans; made him among his own people the equal of his hereditary
claims; and entitled him to the name given him by Admiral Kimberly, that
of the Washington of Samoa. To fight German discipline, and German
ironclads, with naked followers bound together with the loosest ideas of
allegiance, seems a story out of a dream, and certainly would have come
to a disastrous end had we not interfered. The Berlin Conference in
which we acted restored Malietoa to his home and his power practically,
but in theory made him dependent on the choice of the Samoans, which
choice the conference guaranteed. That is to say, those were the words
of the treaty on which Mataafa stood. But both English and Germans
agreed that a man who had defeated the Germans should not be elected,
whether he was chosen by the country or not.
This secret protocol is a disgraceful result of the indifference of our
representatives to the good name of the United States, and to what is
more atrocious yet in my mind--a want of comprehension of the value of
the United States and of its enormous power. One must go abroad and far
away to realize that whenever we wish we are one of the main powers of
the world. It is on our sleeping that grasping nations like England and
Germany depend.
Mataafa has probably been aware of the secret protocol which excluded
him from competition as king, a protocol, as I have said, made
exclusively to please the Germans, by the very weak person whom we
detailed to the Berlin Conference. To repeat, we made a treaty which
would give the Samoans the right to elect their so-called king or head
chief, and now we break its lawful meaning by providing that the one man
who would have most suffrages, and who represented the highest claims of
legitimacy, should be exempted if elected.
When Malietoa, brought back by the Germans, worn out in body through his
sufferings in a cruel detention, landed again in Samoa, he was received
by Mataafa. Remember that they are blood relations, and that when one
failed, the other had taken up his cause and won. They embraced each
other, and were left alone by their attendants. It is said that Malietoa
urged upon Mataafa to retain the power, Mataafa declining. Some
compromise was effected, the terms of which are not known, but which
meant that Malietoa should go on reigning without Mataafa’s abandoning
any claims. Now Mataafa is in a sort of retirement, living in a manner
extremely difficult for us to understand, were it not that he resumes in
his person all the ideas that a South Sea man can have regarding the
proper chief of chiefs. Remember that he is _tui_, which is nearly what
we call a king, of the great districts of Atua and Aana, which have
prescriptive rights of election; and he has himself the name of
Malietoa--what we would call the title given him by the very district of
Malie from which the Malietoa derives his name: and that this was given
to him when there was no one to bear this historic burden. Here he is,
living in the further end of the village, only a few feet from our own
hut, which as you know is loaned to us, we suppose by Magogi the chief,
though this is not very distinct. Of course in Samoan way we shall
present to him, or to somebody, gifts equivalent to the use of the
house, to the dignity of Magogi, and to our own essential dignity of
American chiefs.
To my western mind the situation is very curious. Mataafa is already in
a mild opposition which at any moment may become extremely serious. He
must know the intentions of the three powers, and cannot, as I
understand, forego his claims. Here he resides under the apparent
protection of the chiefs of the village, our friend Tofae, and his
brother Patu, the great warrior, who are I think necessarily partisans
of Malietoa; and who would make war upon him in case of a break. But
outwardly the greatest reverence attends him. One feels it in the air.
At this end of the village, separated from the other by many trees,
there is always quiet. The children never make any noise; even the very
animals seem to understand that they must not come near. The few
disturbances are those of Mataafa’s own men when they do any chores in
the outside huts reserved for practical purposes, so as to keep all
housekeeping away from the residence. The giggling girls are quieter;
every one’s voice is lowered: on the road that passes at a little
distance from the great chief people edge away toward the further bushes
in the quietest and most homely manner. There is the perpetual
recognition of a king’s presence. Mataafa goes out very little. He
trudges out to early mass, along the same exact path; has services at
home, and every evening the hymns are sung within his hut. He goes out
early in the morning to do work, like everybody else, in his little
patch of taro planting, and returns after this gentle exercise, naked to
the waist, like any other common mortal. His goings out are apparently
few; though I seem to see certain special visitors drop in of an
evening. Sometimes, as you know, he calls upon us, and this was his
first--shall I say command or visiting-card?
(Envelope)
Ia Lasusuuga Alii
Amelika
Nasei maliu
mai nei
Oi le fale o Tofae
(Autograph letter)
Vaiala
Oketopa, 11 1890
iala susuuga Alii Amelika
Aliie ale nei lau tusi ia te ou lua ia ou lua faamolemole oute
manao e fia fesi la fai ma oulua susuuga fe oute alu atu ilou lua
maoto fe lua te maliu mai i lau Fale alou taofi lea efaasilasila
atu is ou lua susuuga.
Ona pau lea ia Saifua.
O au M J Mataafa
[Translation]
Vaiala, Oct. 11, 1890.
To the Distinguished Chiefs of America
O Chiefs
This my letter to you both. Will you please my wish to meet your
Honours? Shall I go to your residence, or will you come to my
house? This it is my wish to let your Honours know. This is all.
May you live.
I am
M. J. Mataafa
(Malietoa Josefo Mataafa)
In return for our call the great chief has called many times upon us. He
apologizes almost for his position of something sacred, for his being
obliged to drink out of his own cup, for instance, and, as I told you,
has yielded very slowly to the investigations of Atamo[9] concerning the
rights of law, of property, of kinship, which must at first have
appeared to him irrelevant and indiscreet. Even Seumanu, with whom we
are so familiar that we threaten to take away his name occasionally
(Samoan legal deposition from office), even Seumanu was obliged to say
once, “Years ago I would have killed a man who asked me that question!”
I believe it was some inquiry as to his exact descent and consequent
claims from his grandmother. But one of these visits of Mataafa brought
about a meeting with Stevenson which I had thought might not take place
for some time. It is always difficult for those of us who have the
cosmopolitan instinct to realize how fundamental are the views of the
Britisher. Mr. Stevenson had been explaining to us a difficulty I could
hardly appreciate, and that was the question of whether he should call
on Mataafa or wait until Mataafa called on him. I know how that would be
settled in England. No one would expect the Queen or the Prince of Wales
to call first, even though they cannot have for themselves the sense of
dignity and sacredness which must envelop Mataafa. The Queen is the
head of the church and defender of the faith; but she is not so by
blood, whether there be a church or not. It is this peculiar element of
something sacred, as it were of the son of a demigod, the natural
intermediary between this world and the next, which is gently latent in
the original idea of the aristocracy of these people. Even to Roman
Paula, the spiritual daughter of St. Jerome, it must have been something
beyond our ken to be a descendant of, let us say, Agamemnon or Achilles
or other sons of demigods. In this state of mind Mr. Stevenson came in
upon us during one of Mataafa’s visits, and succumbed at once to the
delicate courtesy of the great chief. He managed so prettily to express
his knowledge of Stevenson’s distinction, of his being a writer of
stories, and a wish to know him limited by the difficulties of his
position.
Meanwhile, I say, Mataafa bides his time. He waits patiently, en
évidence, but doing nothing. This will irritate his enemies, but I seem
to see that for him there can be no more legal course. As long as he
does nothing, and makes only a mute appeal to justice, he is entirely in
the right. He is not supposed to accede to the protocol which excluded
him. I think I understand somewhat of the absurdly complicated position
which his friends or his enemies hold--position based on hereditary
rights; long internecine wars; ancient privileges of small places which
have rights of election, but which are too weak to enforce them; and,
above all, on both sides questions of complicated descent. Even if I
were correct, and made no mistakes, which could hardly be, I would not
dare to go into a lengthy explanation of the claims on both sides.
One great enmity Mataafa has: more intense than that of the Germans,
because partly unconscious and founded on the worst passion of
humanity--theological hatred. That enmity is the dislike of the foreign
Protestant missionary, who moreover is absolutely English in his ideas,
his wishes, his intentions, and has a perpetual political bias. Mataafa
is a Catholic, like many of the chiefs. Naturally he has Catholic
advisers, and some of them may be--though I don’t know it for
sure--tainted by the same politico-religious ideas as their opponents.
They probably supply the great chief with information of what the great
outside world would do in his favour; opinions based on their wishes,
and not on the meanness of mankind, which is the only logical basis of
politics.
As a proof of the atrocities to which the religious mind can consent,
listen to this charming detail. It belongs to a time when I was no
longer in Samoa. I have mentioned in my other journals and letters the
names of the Rev. Mr. Claxton of the London Missionary Society; and I
can add to what I said that was _pleasant_ that he seemed to be the
usual gentle clergyman, with side-whiskers, and sufficiently modern,
and that he spoke very nicely, as I thought, of the religious state of
the Samoans, and evinced a sense of a certain steadfastness of theirs,
which distinguishes them from many of the other varieties of South Sea
people. Mr. Claxton also pleased us by recognizing the Samoan dances as
not being sinful, by being present at one of them, with Mrs. Claxton.
You know that poor Faatulia was excommunicated for attending the Fourth
of July dance, which was of course attended by the wives or daughters or
aunts of the English or American consuls. The action of our reverend
friend was all the more graceful because the dance was in honour of
Faatulia’s niece, if I remember. Mrs. Claxton also we hear all sorts of
nice things about. She is “Misi Talatoni,” and Meli Hamilton gets a
great deal of fun out of her, pretending that we admire her dress much
more than Meli’s. Never would you suspect these gentle associations
connected with the ideas of mediæval assassination. But in August, our
Consul, coming down to Australia, and meeting us on the way to Java,
told me the following story because he wished me to take a hand myself.
Mataafa’s habits were, as might be expected from his character,
particularly steady as belonging to a war chief, a king, and a devout
churchman. He went to mass every day, by the same path, and did not
flinch or change his track when the Germans fired at him. Somehow or
other, as happens to generals and to people who make a good mark, he
was never hit. On this peculiarity of Mataafa’s was based a proposition
made by the Rev. Mr. Claxton to the Consul. There was now absolute
peace; and Mataafa and myself, or you would have a perfect right to walk
along the road to church without being fired at. But German discipline
has characteristics quite as distinct as Mataafa’s. Might it not be
possible, if any German marines were landed by chance, to place some
sentries on Mataafa’s road, presumably if he went to evening service? He
would suspect no harm, and even if he did, would not move from his path.
The German sentinel would by duty be obliged to fire, and consequently
no one would be to blame, and Mataafa would be out of the way. This the
reverend clergyman thought could be managed. What Consul Sewall wished
of me was that I should warn a friend of Mataafa’s, Father Gavet, who
lived somewhere along the coast, but whose long acquaintance with Samoan
manners would find some way of avoiding the possibility of this little
incident. I wrote to Father Gavet, who answered me, at some distance of
time, of course, that the plot was understood; for, as Mataafa said to
me, “There are no secrets in Samoa,” and the friends of Mataafa had
taken necessary precautions. I never heard anything more about it, but I
believe that the Reverend Claxton has been withdrawn.
Of course as long as the waters are so disturbed, each party may hope to
fish for their advantage; that is to say, the German for
politico-commercial reasons, and the English for the same; and this all
the more that the English government recognizes what is called spheres
of influence, and that it is inclined to concede to Germany such an
influence here, even if its representatives be not officially ordered to
do so. We, who do not recognize these spheres of influence, are,
however, prone to assist all Protestant missionary tendencies, right or
wrong. Votes are votes. Besides, not only do we not recognize spheres of
influence, but we are uncertain of any political tradition, and we are
easily handled by England, to whom we are still intellectually subject.
We are also more or less out of the game. We have no Heligoland or
Hinterland in Africa, to trade off against influence in Samoa or New
Guinea. We are still in the dark as to our fortune; we don’t know the
importance of the Pacific Ocean to us, nor the immensity of future
eastern trade. As the Germans here impertinently remark, we would trade
an empire against the votes of a town in New Jersey, or the honour of
dining with a countess.
Brandés, the German dictator, that is to say the German official who
controlled Samoa for a time, representing both Germany and Samoa, said
of us: “A nation, which in all decisions of foreign policy must take
into its councils the senate and sixty million of people, can never
have a foreign policy worthy of the name.” We might easily withdraw,
even temporarily; then for the protection of German property, German
forces could be landed in Samoa, the imperial flag be hoisted, and
whoever would dare to haul it down? Bismarck, acting through his son
Herbert, has apparently well arranged our agreements so that events
might turn easily that way. On Mataafa these conditions hinge. As he
acts, or is kept from acting, the possible possession of this key of the
Pacific will be determined.
And yet the Pacific is our natural property. Our great coast borders it
for a quarter of the world. We must either give up Hawaii, which will
inevitably then go over to England, or take it willingly, if we need to
keep the passage open to eastern Asia, the future battleground of
commerce.
You can see how reasonable it is then that Mataafa should take an
interest in us as Americans, and hold on to a hope that we might,
however faintly, help the cause of his people, and keep them, as he
says, from slavery. Moreover, as his men it was who rescued our sailors
in the great calamity of 1889, even though they also rescued the
Germans, with whom they were at war, he feels that kindness of
obligation which comes to those who have tried to benefit others.
All this is politics, and you are probably, like the United States, more
or less indifferent to anything that has not the name that you are
accustomed to. To me, on the contrary, my real and absorbing delight is
the sense of looking at the world in a little nutshell, and of seeing
everything reduced to such a small scale, and to so few people, that I
can take, as it were, my first lessons in history. I don’t know that I
should put it all into the form that Mr. Stevenson uses, in which I do
not quite agree with him: that here, at length, we were free from the
pressure of Roman civilization. I own of course, that all comes to us
through Rome, and that the dago has had the making of us. The words
which I use of course imply that. I can’t talk of politics, of
civilization, of culture, of education, of chivalry, of any of the
aspirations of the western world, without using the words implanted with
the ideas in our barbarous ancestors; but before the culture and
development of Rome was a something which had some analogies to what I
see here. I am continually thinking how it may have been with my most
remote ancestry, whenever I understand any better the ideas and habits
of our good people here. As also they have passed from some still
earlier or more remote stages, their ideas are easier to understand than
those for instance of the Australian or even of the Fijian. A tendency
to the commonplace, to a certain evening up of ideas, seems to belong to
them, and makes them easier to understand because in so far they are not
unlike us. They dislike excesses in thinking, and too logical
extensions of what might be called political ideas. About all this
social difference of organization, I have written to you, I should say
continually. I must have given you most of the details, even if I have
not made a summary of the form of early civilization.
I am troubled also at writing about things and ideas, and using words
which have grown out of things and ideas extremely different and often
contradictory. As the Christian terminology, the very language of the
Gospels, was perforce made up of pagan forms and terms, so to-day, I
shall have to describe what might be called pagan forms and ideas in a
terminology now influenced by Christianity, and saturated with problems
connected with it, so that probably Greek or Latin would be more
natural, though even they, you know, are read by us with a bias that
their authors never dreamed of.
But as long as I do not write, it is pleasant to see the ideas without
words, and perhaps descriptions may not have been the worst way to give
them.
A MALAGA IN SEUMANU’S BOAT
25th Oct., 1890.
Malanga, written malaga, is a trip, a voyage where one puts up with
friends, etc.; one of the fundamental social institutions of Samoa.
WHAT SEUMANU’s BOAT WAS
“Secretary of the Navy to the Secretary of State. Acknowledging
assistance by natives of Samoa.
“Navy Department,
“Washington, D. C., April 27, 1889.
“SIR: In a report dated Apia, Samoa, March 26, 1889, from
Rear-Admiral L. H. Kimberly, U. S. Navy, commanding the United
States naval force on the Pacific Station, the Navy Department is
informed that invaluable assistance was rendered by certain natives
of Apia, during the storm of Saturday, the 16th March.
“Rear-Admiral Kimberly calls particular attention to Seumanu Tafa,
chief of Apia, who was the first to man a boat and go to the
_Trenton_ after she struck the reef, and who also rendered material
aid in directing the natives engaged in taking our people and
public property on shore on the 17th and 18th.
“Special recommendation also is given to the men composing the
boat’s crew, as follows: Muniaga, Anapu, son of Seumanu, Taupau,
chief of Manono, Mose, Fuapopo, Tete, Pita, Ionia, Apiti, Auvaa,
Alo, Tepa.
“The Department has the honour to request that you will express to
the authorities of Samoa, through the proper channels its high
sense of the courage and self devotion of Chief Seumanu and his
fellow countrymen, in their risking their lives to rescue the
shipwrecked officers and crew of the _Trenton_ from their position
of peril and distress; and that you will, at the same time, inform
them of its intention to send to the Chief Seumanu in accordance
with the recommendation of Rear-Admiral Kimberly, and as a mark of
its appreciation, a double-banked whaleboat, with its fittings,
and to reward suitably the men composing his crew, for their brave
and disinterested service. I have the honour to be, sir, very
respectfully, your obedient servant,
“B. F. Tracy,
“Secretary of the Navy.
“The Secretary of State.”
The accompanying extract tells you the story of the boat in which we are
making a malaga to some of the places near us--to the northwest end of
our island of Upolu, to this little Manono, with an old reputation for
war; to the ancient sunken volcano crater of Apolima; and to Savaii, the
big island important in politics, and important in name, and important
in history.[10]
Seumanu takes us along in his boat, and as it were under his protection,
a convenience certainly, but also perhaps not an unencumbered blessing,
for there will certainly be a colour of politics in our trip. All the
more that our own boat goes along also with our own rowers, and the
consular flag, for the Consul is with us, and is in (I fear) for many
speeches which he will have to acknowledge, and we shall suffer all the
more. For already there has been much speech-making; the _tulafales_,
the village orators, and occasionally rulers, or balances of power with
the chiefs, and who as far as I can make out keep this place by
inheritance--the _tulafales_ have been in force. Seu has repeated their
speeches ahead of them in a grumbling way, evidently not quite pleased.
Perhaps the paucity of gifts in this poor little place helps to annoy
him, and yet we gave them short notices of our coming and we are many to
provide for, over twenty-five in all; or perhaps, nay certainly, their
political complexion is not of the right shade and he remembers too well
that they were but figure-heads in the last war, not withstanding their
military renown. What annoys him as a chief “qui se respecte,” gives us
infinite pleasure. All comes down to the small scale that befits the
place and its rusticity. It is rustic, as I need not assure you, but it
has also a look of make-believe that gives it a look of landscape
gardening--the look of a fit place wherein to give a small operetta in
the open air.
The village is on a small promontory, beyond which juts the outline of
some rocks crowned by a chief’s tomb that is shadowed by trees. The
water within the bay reef is of a marvellous green-blue, whether it
rains or whether it shines, and not far off, perhaps only a mile or so,
Upolu is blue or violet or black or grey in mist; and the sea outside
always makes some colour contrast with the sea inside the reef. The
village is just high enough upon the shore to conceal the actors on the
beach, except where in two or three places the clean sand sweeps down
under the trees or next to heavy rocks, so as to allow the tenor and the
diva of my supposed opera, to go down and throw out a great song. This
is striking enough in the day but in the evening afterglow or the shine
of moonlight, themselves apparently made on purpose, it is deceptive;
people step down little rocks on coming out of small huts, a few real
canoes are placed under the trees whose outline in the shade has been
arranged by nature in rivalry of art.