SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LATE OPERATIONS OF THE FRENCH AT THE
MARQUESAS--PRUDENT CONDUCT OF THE ADMIRAL--SENSATION PRODUCED BY
THE ARRIVAL OF THE STRANGERS--THE FIRST HORSE SEEN BY THE
ISLANDERS--REFLECTIONS--MISERABLE SUBTERFUGE OF THE FRENCH--DIGRESSION
CONCERNING TAHITI--SEIZURE OF THE ISLAND BY THE ADMIRAL--SPIRITED
CONDUCT OF AN ENGLISH LADY
It was in the summer of 1842 that we arrived at the islands; the French
had then held possession of them for several weeks. During this time
they had visited some of the principal places in the group, and had
disembarked at various points about five hundred troops. These were
employed in constructing works of defence, and otherwise providing
against the attacks of the natives, who at any moment might be expected
to break out in open hostility. The islanders looked upon the people who
made this cavalier appropriation of their shores with mingled feelings
of fear and detestation. They cordially hated them; but the impulses
of their resentment were neutralized by their dread of the floating
batteries, which lay with their fatal tubes ostentatiously pointed,
not at fortifications and redoubts, but at a handful of bamboo sheds,
sheltered in a grove of cocoanuts! A valiant warrior doubtless, but
a prudent one too, was this same Rear-Admiral Du Petit Thouars. Four
heavy, doublebanked frigates and three corvettes to frighten a parcel of
naked heathen into subjection! Sixty-eight pounders to demolish huts of
cocoanut boughs, and Congreve rockets to set on fire a few canoe sheds!
At Nukuheva, there were about one hundred soldiers ashore. They were
encamped in tents, constructed of the old sails and spare spars of
the squadron, within the limits of a redoubt mounted with a few
nine-pounders, and surrounded with a fosse. Every other day, these
troops were marched out in martial array, to a level piece of ground
in the vicinity, and there for hours went through all sorts of military
evolutions, surrounded by flocks of the natives, who looked on with
savage admiration at the show, and as savage a hatred of the actors.
A regiment of the Old Guard, reviewed on a summer’s day in the Champs
Elysees, could not have made a more critically correct appearance. The
officers’ regimentals, resplendent with gold lace and embroidery as if
purposely calculated to dazzle the islanders, looked as if just unpacked
from their Parisian cases.
The sensation produced by the presence of the strangers had not in the
least subsided at the period of our arrival at the islands. The natives
still flocked in numbers about the encampment, and watched with the
liveliest curiosity everything that was going forward. A blacksmith’s
forge, which had been set up in the shelter of a grove near the beach,
attracted so great a crowd, that it required the utmost efforts of the
sentries posted around to keep the inquisitive multitude at a sufficient
distance to allow the workmen to ply their vocation. But nothing gained
so large a share of admiration as a horse, which had been brought from
Valparaiso by the Achille, one of the vessels of the squadron. The
animal, a remarkably fine one, had been taken ashore, and stabled in a
hut of cocoanut boughs within the fortified enclosure. Occasionally it
was brought out, and, being gaily caparisoned, was ridden by one of the
officers at full speed over the hard sand beach. This performance was
sure to be hailed with loud plaudits, and the ‘puarkee nuee’ (big hog)
was unanimously pronounced by the islanders to be the most extraordinary
specimen of zoology that had ever come under their observation.
The expedition for the occupation of the Marquesas had sailed from Brest
in the spring of 1842, and the secret of its destination was solely in
the possession of its commander. No wonder that those who contemplated
such a signal infraction of the rights of humanity should have sought to
veil the enormity from the eyes of the world. And yet, notwithstanding
their iniquitous conduct in this and in other matters, the French
have ever plumed themselves upon being the most humane and polished of
nations. A high degree of refinement, however, does not seem to subdue
our wicked propensities so much after all; and were civilization itself
to be estimated by some of its results, it would seem perhaps better for
what we call the barbarous part of the world to remain unchanged.
One example of the shameless subterfuges under which the French stand
prepared to defend whatever cruelties they may hereafter think fit to
commit in bringing the Marquesan natives into subjection is well worthy
of being recorded. On some flimsy pretext or other Mowanna, the king of
Nukuheva, whom the invaders by extravagant presents had cajoled over to
their interests, and moved about like a mere puppet, has been set up
as the rightful sovereign of the entire island--the alleged ruler by
prescription of various clans, who for ages perhaps have treated with
each other as separate nations. To reinstate this much-injured prince in
the assumed dignities of his ancestors, the disinterested strangers have
come all the way from France: they are determined that his title shall
be acknowledged. If any tribe shall refuse to recognize the authority
of the French, by bowing down to the laced chapeau of Mowanna, let them
abide the consequences of their obstinacy. Under cover of a similar
pretence, have the outrages and massacres at Tahiti the beautiful, the
queen of the South Seas, been perpetrated.
On this buccaneering expedition, Rear Admiral Du Petit Thouars, leaving
the rest of his squadron at the Marquesas,--which had then been occupied
by his forces about five months--set sail for the doomed island in
the Reine Blanche frigate. On his arrival, as an indemnity for alleged
insults offered to the flag of his country, he demanded some twenty
or thirty thousand dollars to be placed in his hands forthwith, and in
default of payment, threatened to land and take possession of the place.
The frigate, immediately upon coming to an anchor, got springs on her
cables, and with her guns cast loose and her men at their quarters, lay
in the circular basin of Papeete, with her broadside bearing upon the
devoted town; while her numerous cutters, hauled in order alongside,
were ready to effect a landing, under cover of her batteries. She
maintained this belligerent attitude for several days, during which time
a series of informal negotiations were pending, and wide alarm spread
over the island. Many of the Tahitians were at first disposed to resort
to arms, and drive the invaders from their shores; but more pacific and
feebler counsels ultimately prevailed. The unfortunate queen Pomare,
incapable of averting the impending calamity, terrified at the arrogance
of the insolent Frenchman, and driven at last to despair, fled by night
in a canoe to Emio.
During the continuance of the panic there occurred an instance of
feminine heroism that I cannot omit to record.
In the grounds of the famous missionary consul, Pritchard, then absent
in London, the consular flag of Britain waved as usual during the day,
from a lofty staff planted within a few yards of the beach, and in full
view of the frigate. One morning an officer, at the head of a party
of men, presented himself at the verandah of Mr Pritchard’s house, and
inquired in broken English for the lady his wife. The matron soon made
her appearance; and the polite Frenchman, making one of his best bows,
and playing gracefully with the aiguillettes that danced upon his
breast, proceeded in courteous accents to deliver his mission. ‘The
admiral desired the flag to be hauled down--hoped it would be perfectly
agreeable--and his men stood ready to perform the duty.’ ‘Tell the
Pirate your master,’ replied the spirited Englishwoman, pointing to
the staff, ‘that if he wishes to strike these colours, he must come and
perform the act himself; I will suffer no one else to do it.’ The lady
then bowed haughtily and withdrew into the house. As the discomfited
officer slowly walked away, he looked up to the flag, and perceived that
the cord by which it was elevated to its place, led from the top of the
staff, across the lawn, to an open upper window of the mansion, where
sat the lady from whom he had just parted, tranquilly engaged in
knitting. Was that flag hauled down? Mrs Pritchard thinks not; and
Rear-Admiral Du Petit Thouars is believed to be of the same opinion.