HURRICANE AT THE PAUMOTUS—MAHENA PLANTATION—WATCHING FOR
VESSELS—FAREWELL TO TAHITI.
FAUTAWA, _Tuesday, 12th_.
News has just reached us of an awful hurricane and tidal wave which has
swept the whole group of the Paumotus, and it is not known how far its
influence has extended. Nothing of the sort has occurred in these seas
in the present century. The French Resident and Mr Boosey, one of Mrs
Brander’s agents, have just arrived in the Elgin to ask for assistance,
as the whole settlement of Anaa is a heap of hopeless ruin. It was a
flourishing little town, about half the size of Levuka; it had about 150
houses, good stores, Roman Catholic, Presbyterian, and Mormon churches,
Resident’s house, &c. The Seignelay touched there on that memorable
cruise to the Marquesas, so I missed the chance of doing a historical,
antediluvian sketch.
Mrs Brander is most anxious about the fate of her other manager, Mr
Macgee; indeed we all are so, for he is a very good fellow, and he has
been staying with the family here for some time. He is supposed to have
been out that night in a very small vessel, which is missing. The gale
must have been appalling. It is calculated that on Anaa alone, 300,000
cocoa-palms must have fallen, and Mrs Brander’s loss in produce, stores
and buildings, boats, three small ships and their cargoes, is reckoned
at 40,000 dollars, equal to about £10,000—a serious night’s work.
The Ségond is to be despatched to-morrow morning, loaded with
provisions, timber, and all things likely to prove useful in this
emergency. She is to go the round of every large isle in the group, and
do what she can to help the wretched inhabitants.
They say these tidal waves always accompany an eruption of some volcano.
I hope I shall not find that I have just missed one at Hawaii!
MAHENA PLANTATION, POINT VENUS,
_Thursday, Feb. 14th_.
This is another place belonging to Mrs Brander, who sent me here with
her manager, Mr Lander, a German, that I might have a few quiet days for
sketching in this neighbourhood. There is a large house here, close to
the sea, where the family occasionally come for a change. I was received
by Toetoe, a handsome, stalwart lass, daughter of a chief of Tupuai, the
romantic isle of which Byron sings in “The Island.” She introduced me to
pets of all sorts—rabbits, cows, horses, cats and dogs, especially a wee
brown dog “Moosie.” She gave me milk without limit—always a luxury—and
in the evening we wandered by grassy paths beneath the cocoa-palms; and
then in the clear moonlight started for a walk along the shore, which
here is of a firm black sand, on which large waves break in as full
force as on our own north coast. This is due to the fact that there is a
passage through the coral-reef, just opposite the house; so the sea
rolls in unchecked.
_Monday, 18th._
I have been rather worried for some days by prickly-heat, from which
many persons suffer almost continually in all tropical countries. It is
a general all-overish, tingling irritation of skin, very unpleasant to
the sufferer, who, however, receives no compassion, as he is pleasantly
informed that it is a symptom of excellent health, and a safeguard
against possible fever! Sea-bathing is generally recommended as a cure,
so that sunrise and moonlight alike find me in pickle in the briny
waters, where, borrowing courage from Toetoe’s presence and good example
(she being, as a matter of course, a perfect swimmer), I venture on a
dash through the breaking waves to the pleasant calm water beyond;
where, however, our peaceful enjoyment is considerably marred by the
dread of sharks, which here venture close to the shore.
We have made various expeditions, walking and driving, to picturesque
points on land and shore; and a day at the lighthouse enabled me to
complete my previous sketch of Orofena, the highest mountain of Tahiti.
Now we are just starting to drive back along the coast to Papeete—a
lovely route, by which, as you may remember, I last travelled by
torchlight, on our return from the grand circuit of the isle.
PAPEETE, _February 19th_.
We have for some time been anxiously watching for the return of the
Maramma, Mrs Brander’s fine large ship, which is bringing cattle from
the Sandwich Isles, and which will, I hope, take me there on her next
trip, supposing no mischance has befallen her. But she is now
considerably overdue, and fears are expressed that she may have
disobeyed orders, and gone to the dangerous coast of Kauai, thence to
fetch cattle. Or she may have encountered the hurricane.
_February 20th._
A vessel has just come into port from Honolulu, bringing cattle. She has
been nineteen days on the voyage, and reports that the Maramma is
following.
In the evening the lovely moonlight tempted us to visit our old haunts,
the place where the admiral’s band used to play every evening, but
where, under the new _régime_, the hideous _upa-upa_ is now nightly
danced for the edification of the admiring crowd. There was the usual
large picturesque assemblage, but their gaiety was of a more
demonstrative type than heretofore. In short, the admiral’s excellent
restrictions, which were to inaugurate quite a new era in Tahiti, have
already melted “like snowdrift in thaw” before the cheerful presence of
the new ruler; who, on the very night of M. D’Oncieue’s departure,
summoned many damsels (friends of former days, and noted dancers of the
obnoxious native wriggle) to Government House, where they were
hospitably entertained. Of course news of this complete subversion of
six months’ compulsory reformation quickly spread to the remotest
districts, and from all parts of the island all the dancers flocked to
Papeete, where they now assemble every evening before Government House,
and the crowd thus attracted is of a sort such as ladies would not care
to mix in for long. To-night there was some rather pretty singing, but
not to be compared with the true _himènes_—and from the laughter of the
crowd it might be inferred that the words would not bear translation.
_Friday, 22d._
The Ségond has returned from the Paumotus with a lamentable tale of
disaster. We are all, however, much relieved at hearing that our friend
Mr Macgee is safe; though he had a most narrow escape on the awful night
of the hurricane, when he happened to be on the isle of Kaukura, which
seems to have been the centre of the cyclone, and consequently suffered
most. He had passed this island a few days previously in the Marion, but
the sea had been too heavy to allow of so large a vessel venturing to
approach. Business compelling him to return, he did so in the May, a
smaller craft. Both vessels belong to Mrs Brander, and are named after
her daughters.
Like the generality of the Paumotus, Kaukura consists of a circular
group of low flat islets, either detached or connected by a reef, thus
forming an atoll enclosing a calm sea-lagoon; the whole being protected
from the outer ocean by an encircling reef. An existence more calm and
peaceful than that of the dwellers in these coral-girt isles can
scarcely be conceived; and a storm such as that which has devastated the
group, is of such rare occurrence as to be little dreaded in the chances
of daily life. Eighty years are said to have elapsed since the last
hurricane occurred in these latitudes. Considering that many of these
islets are not three feet above the water-level,—that ten feet is
considered high ground, and fifteen is about the maximum elevation,—you
can understand how appalling is the danger caused by any eccentricity of
tide.
As cocoa-nuts are the chief produce of the group, and indeed the sole
property of many families, it is customary to protect the interests of
each member of the community from all danger of poaching on the part of
his neighbour, by laying a _taboo_ on the whole crop until a given day.
I suppose I need scarcely tell you what is meant by this ceremony,
which, under slightly varied names (_tabu_ in New Zealand, _tambu_ in
Fiji, _tapu_ in Samoa, and _kapu_ in Hawaii), is common throughout the
Pacific, and implies that something has been reserved or rendered sacred
by order of the chief. In olden days the multitudinous forms of _taboo_
were to all these islanders a heavy burden, weighing grievously upon
them in every phase of life; and the infringement of the most arbitrary
rule thus imposed was generally punished by death. Even now a formerly
declared _taboo_ carries such weight, and appeals so forcibly to the
superstitions of the people, that it is almost invariably respected.
Thus in the matter of the cocoa-nut crop not a nut from the reserved
plantations can be touched, till, on the removal of the prohibition, all
the proprietors and their families, together with all interested in the
purchase of the nuts, or in securing payment of debts previously
contracted, assemble at the _Rahui_, as it is called, and there build
for themselves frail booths of palm-leaves—a sorry shelter at the best.
In such a leaf-village, on one of the detached islets, all the
inhabitants of Kaukura had assembled, together with a number of traders
from other places, in all numbering nearly 200 persons, when they were
overtaken by the awful hurricane of the 6th February. For some hours
previously the greatest anxiety had prevailed. A strong easterly breeze
had for three consecutive days lashed the waters of the lagoon into
fury, then gradually veered round to the west with ever increasing
force. The outer ocean, now rising in tumultuous waves, swept in from
the westward; and, sweeping right over the barrier-reef with a roar like
thunder, broke on the shore with a force unequalled in the memory of any
islander now living. Thus the usually calm lagoon within the coral ring,
and the annular lagoon on its outer edge, were alike lashed to
tempestuous billows, dashing with awful force on either side of the low
islet; while the water from below was actually forced up through the
coral foundation, till the light sandy soil was so thoroughly saturated
as to have become a mere quicksand.
With danger alike imminent on land and sea, it was a difficult question
which to face. The ground was apparently about to be wholly submerged,
and the alarm was such that 118 persons, including one European (George
Herder, agent for a large German mercantile house), decided to take
refuge in their boats. All these, with the exception of one man, a
native of Anaa, perished.
The others, including Mr Macgee and a few other Europeans, fled to the
highest part of the land, which was about fifteen feet above the
ordinary water-level. The ground is there strewn with large rocks and
stumps of palm-trees. To these they clung all through the long dreary
night, while the waves from both lake and sea met and dashed right over
them in cataracts of foam.
Throughout the long hours of darkness they battled with the raging
waters. Again and again they were dashed from the rocks or stumps to
which they clung, and endured a moment of bewildering horror, while
carried at the mercy of the swirling waters, till happily some other
object presented itself at which to clutch. Further, they were in
imminent danger from sharks, which, as they well knew, might attack them
at any moment,—a consciousness which formed a horrible item in that
night of dread. Mingling with the roar of the waters and the shrieking
of the hurricane, came the crash of falling palms, uprooted, twisted, or
snapped by the fury of the gale.
When morning broke, the tempest abated; the waters receded to their
accustomed bounds, leaving the island a complete wreck, and its shores
strewn with the bodies of the dead.
After a few days, a boat arrived in search of Mr Macgee, despatched from
the island of Apataki, where he had left the Marion. He found her high
and dry on the beach, but otherwise not seriously injured. Of the little
May he had himself caught a last glimpse as a huge wave lifted her up
and carried her right over the wharf, to disappear in the turmoil of
seething waters beyond. Many other small craft have been wrecked.
Amongst others the Hornet, a 42-ton schooner; the Nerine, 28-ton; and a
great number of boats, which were washed out of the lagoon and carried
out to sea.
The isles of Niau, Anaa, and Rangiroa, _i.e._, long cloud, seem to have
suffered the most severely. On the latter almost every house has been
destroyed, one hideous detail being that the cemeteries have literally
been washed away, and the bodies, bones, and skulls lie strewn over the
isle, mingled with the corpses of the drowned, to the gratification of
such hungry pigs as have survived the deluge, and who quickly scented
out the loathsome festival. Among the bodies which shared this horrible
fate, was recognised that of a chief, who had been buried a few days
previously.
Nor was this the only isle where the sea disturbed the resting-places of
the dead. Mr Boosey told me that on his returning to the miserable wreck
of what had been his home at Anaa, he therein found two skulls, which
the waves had sportively deposited as grim ornaments for his
dining-room. Anaa was the principal settlement in the Paumotu group. The
storm did not actually break there till the 7th February, though for
some hours previously the barometer had been falling steadily, marking a
descent from 30.10 on the morning of the 6th to 29.24 on the afternoon
of the 7th.
This so alarmed Mr Boosey that he proceeded to move some of his goods to
a large native house built on the highest point of the island, which,
however, did not exceed twenty-five feet above the sea-level. His
neighbours, like those of Noah of old, somewhat derided his precautions;
but even he had saved comparatively little, when the sea came pouring in
over the reef in mighty waves, which swept all before them, almost
entirely covering the island. When, on the morning of the 8th, the
waters receded, a mass of broken timbers and rubbish alone remained to
mark where, but a few short hours previously, had stood about 150
buildings of one sort or another. All the boats were destroyed, and the
whole land strewn with fallen palms, lying tossed about at every
conceivable angle. The destruction of cocoa-palms throughout the group
is reckoned at two millions; and as these are the chief wealth, indeed
the principal means of subsistence, of the people, and as it takes about
eight years for a young palm to attain maturity, you can in a measure
realise the loss thus represented, and the time that must elapse ere the
poor Paumotus recover from the effects of this terrible storm. The
Ségond reports that the sea for many miles around the group is so
encumbered with wreckage of every sort, as seriously to endanger
navigation.
PAPEETE, _February 26th_.
The chief interest of daily life is watching for vessels. The mail from
San Francisco is late, and of the long-looked-for ship from the Sandwich
Isles nothing further has been heard. Both ships belong to Mrs Brander.
The former—the Paloma—is called after her little daughter; the
latter—the Maramma—bears one of her own names. A hundred times a day we
look up to the semaphore to see whether the signals reveal any hint of
the returning wanderers, but no cheering sign appears. It is very trying
for my kind dear hostess, who has so much at stake, and whose eldest son
Aleck is expected to return from Honolulu in the missing cattle-ship.
Otherwise life is running on in strangely even tenor, and I begin to
realise that in the South Seas, as in other places, delirious gaiety is
only an occasional accident, and even music is only practised by fits
and starts. Certainly it has been well for the truthfulness of my
impressions of travel that I stayed here long enough to see a little of
the _dessous des cartes_, instead of seeing everything only through the
roseate glasses of the hopeful admiral, who was so sanguine that his
multitudinous reforms would all flourish. I am glad that I have seen
Tahiti in all its phases, especially in its quiet ordinary state, which
no one travelling in a man-of-war, or in any other large ship, can ever
see, as the kindly people are always glad of the smallest pretext for
getting up festivities.
Amongst other wrong impressions, I should certainly have carried away an
idea that _himène_ singing was the normal condition of Tahitian
life—that all the people were for ever warbling like birds, as naturally
as they breathed, and that the very air was musical. I now find that
this is by no means the case. Since the outburst of song which
everywhere greeted King Ariiaue on his accession, all the birds have
been mute. I have only heard one _himène_, and that was got up to order,
in honour of H.M.S. Shah, and a very poor specimen it was.
But chiefly I rejoice that my prolonged stay here with this fine family
of real old Tahitian chiefs (who have treated me with the same loving
kindness they heap on one another), has not only shown me whatever still
remains of the true Tahitian element, but has also enabled me to
realise, in person, the existence of the warm-hearted unbounded
hospitality which (now necessarily wellnigh a tale of the past, in
overcrowded British isles) still flourishes and luxuriates beneath these
balmy heavens.
But as all things must have an end, and my visit to Tahiti has already
extended to five months, I now only await the arrival of either of the
missing ships, to decide by which route to tear myself away from the
Tahitian paradise, and all the kind, kind people in it, to whom it owes
half its charm.
_March 5th._
Misfortunes never do come singly, and really it seems as if every vessel
that has come in of late has brought tidings of some fresh loss. Of
those for which we watched so anxiously, the first to arrive was the
Paloma, from San Francisco. Great was the joy when she was sighted,
great the dismay when it became known that she brought no mails. It
appears that she had been becalmed on her voyage to ’Frisco, and so had
arrived late. The French consul there, sooner than allow one day’s delay
in starting the return mail, had chartered another vessel, the Bonanza,
to bring it down, at a cost to the Paloma of 2000 dollars. The latter
had to wait several days in San Francisco for cargo; and nevertheless,
though the Bonanza is accounted a swift sailer, the Paloma reached
Honolulu several days before her. She brought news that the Maramma got
into so many difficulties at the Hawaiian Isles that Aleck Brander
deemed it best to take passage by the mail-steamer up to San Francisco,
intending to return thence in the Paloma; but finding that the Bonanza
was chartered for an immediate start, he decided to come by her, and so
has only just arrived, after both the other ships had been some days in
harbour.
The Maramma has had quite a chapter of accidents. After making an
excellent run to Honolulu, she went down to Kauai to ship cattle, when
it was discovered that she had sprung a serious leak, and had nine feet
of water in her hold. Happily she was so close inshore that she landed
all her cargo without difficulty. A Government steamer was sent down to
tow her back to Honolulu, at a cost of 3000 dollars. Another 1000
dollars were there expended on repairs, and to this must be added 2000
more of dead loss on the voyage,—and all this was due to one rat-hole!
Now she is undergoing further repairs here, and will very likely be
despatched to Hawaii in a very few days, in which case she will probably
go direct to Kauai, the most beautiful, and least visited, of all the
Sandwich Isles. It is a very tempting possibility, yet the element of
doubt as to whether she really will go at all, exists so clearly, that
it seems wiser for me to take passage in the Paloma to San Francisco,
and thence return to Honolulu by mail-steamer. It is a terribly long
round; for whereas Honolulu is 2000 miles from here, San Francisco is at
least 4000, as the crow flies, and as ships go, the voyage is often one
of 5000 miles, or even more—a long voyage to undertake in a brigantine
of 230 tons!
Aleck Brander has been giving us most interesting accounts of his
reception in Honolulu by all the royalties and high chiefs of Hawaii. As
I have before mentioned, they all count blood-relationship with the high
chiefs of Tahiti; and though they rarely meet, a visit from one to the
other is a great event. So Aleck’s first visit was celebrated by a true
native welcome, and he had the luck of seeing such traces of old
Hawaiian custom as have not yet quite died out. But it sounds odd to
hear of presentations of food, and of crouching servants, quite _à la_
Fiji, combined with very smart American-Parisian dresses, very much
_décolletée_. At least the photographs, of which Aleck has brought a
large supply, represent the great ladies of Hawaii in very low-necked
and short-sleeved dresses of gorgeous material. Certainly the simple
robes of Tahiti are infinitely preferable.
ON BOARD THE PALOMA,
_Saturday, 9th March_.
The die is cast, the sad partings over, and I have bidden a long
farewell to the kindest and most affectionate community I have yet
discovered in all my wanderings. I took leave of them all yesterday
morning, for the Paloma had gone to Hitiaa, on the other side of the
island, there to load with oranges.
My only fellow-passengers are a very kind couple, Mr and Mrs Boyd, who
are accompanied by a pretty fair-haired child. We came together from
Papeete, in a comfortable coach with canvas cover, and had a most lovely
sixty miles’ drive along the shore, with the distant hills standing out
clearer and more beautiful than I had ever yet seen them, and the
foliage seeming richer than ever, as I looked on it all with the
sorrowful feeling that it was for the last time.
Several bridges had been washed away during a recent storm—the same
which wrought such devastation in the Paumotus—so we had to cross the
rivers at the mouth, by driving quite into the sea. It was rather
nervous work, as the horses did not like it at all. But otherwise, the
beautiful grass roads were in excellent condition, and we had four
changes of very good horses, so the drive was most delightful.
Now the beautiful isle lies far behind us, fading into the blue
distance, and we are fairly started on our far journey.
Small as is our ship, she is in every respect satisfactory, and as clean
and cosy as a gentleman’s yacht. I never saw so small a vessel carry so
much sail,—truly our Paloma deserves her name, for she is now flying
before the breeze like a swift white-winged carrier-pigeon, bearing many
a letter.[71]
She also carries 270,000 oranges—a fragrant cargo. They are gathered
unripe, to be ready for the market on our arrival. Probably, if we make
a slow voyage, we shall seriously diminish their numbers! On their
account, every part of the ship is kept as cool and airy as possible.
Our cabins are excellent. Mine is large and comfortable, and has two
windows opening on to the deck, so that they need never be shut unless
weather is very bad. The table is excellent, the service quiet and
attentive. Our Danish captain is an exceedingly good fellow, as is also
his wife, who travels with him.
The cook and steward, and the two mates, are Swedes and Germans. Seven
Rarotongans compose the crew: all are very quiet and silent. So is
little Edith, with her cat and kitten. The canary is the only noisy
person on board, and sings joyously.
We are starting as it were on a long yachting cruise in summer seas.
_Saturday, April 20th_,
STILL ON BOARD THE PALOMA.
Our summer cruise has lasted six weeks; we have made about the longest
voyage on record. We have lain becalmed for days, which both the captain
and his wife attribute to my perversity in writing letters on board!
They say it _always_ happens when passengers write, and that it ought to
be an irrevocable law that all ink-bottles are emptied when their owners
embark. Unaccountable currents have drifted us far out of our course,
and the irregular behaviour of the trade-wind has driven us right to the
west of the Sandwich Isles, and yet had not the kindness to blow us
close to Honolulu, where I might have met some vessel running in and
transhipped,—Captain Nissen would not have dared to land me himself, as
he would thereby have broken his mail contract. But we passed close to
Kauai, which, seen from the sea, is a very uninteresting-looking island;
and then we sailed so close to Niihau that we could distinguish every
house. It did seem a pity that the aggravating contract should prevent
my landing at once, instead of my having to go on all the way to San
Francisco, just to return in a steamer! We have actually made a voyage
of 6000 miles since we left Papeete! For my own part, I really have not
disliked it. We have had lovely weather; everything has gone on most
pleasantly; and what with reading, working, and painting, the days have
been well filled.
Yesterday was Good Friday, which in Germany and Denmark is called “the
quiet day,”[72] and it was observed by the Danes and Germans, and all
the crew, by a cessation from all manner of work not positively
necessary. The Rarotongans are all Christians, and have their own books,
which they read quietly on Sundays.
Now we are off the coast of California. We are nearing the Golden Gates,
and hope to find ourselves safe in harbour, before the dawn on Easter
morning.
THE END.
PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS.
[Illustration: A LADY’S CRUISE IN A FRENCH MAN-OF-WAR]
-----
Footnote 1:
Since the above was written, Mr Watkin has been appointed Chairman (or
as we might say, Wesleyan Bishop) of Tongatabu.
Mr Baker has ceased to work in connection with the mission, and now
acts as Prime Minister to King George.
Footnote 2:
For numerous instances of this, see ‘From the Hebrides to the
Himalayas’ (C. F. Gordon Cumming), vol. i. pp. 203–210.
Footnote 3:
I am happy to say that the king’s good sense carried the day, and
enabled the wishes of the people to find an independent voice. In July
1879, King George formally opened a Tongan Parliament, at which, for
the first time, representatives of the people were present, under the
new constitution, to discuss all questions relating to their own
wellbeing. Ere the close of the session, in the middle of September,
the law prohibiting the manufacture and wearing of native cloth, and
rendering certain articles of clothing compulsory, was abolished. Men
and women are now permitted to wear any clothes they please, in doors
or out, provided, of course, that they are decently clad according to
South Sea interpretation of the word. The only exception to this happy
rule of liberty is the interior of the Wesleyan Church at Nukualofa,
where it is still necessary for men to appear in full European
dress—coat, trousers, shoes, &c.—and for women to wear bonnets and
dresses! Those who cannot, or will not, comply with this regulation,
must stay outside the sanctuary.
The prohibition against women smoking was also modified. Doubtless the
revenue will suffer from the diminution of lines, but that can
scarcely be a matter of much regret. Various other wise measures were
passed, showing that the Tongans have awakened to understand the folly
of attempting to introduce the manners and customs of foreign
countries, without reference to the requirements and necessities of
their own people. Consequently several excellent Tongan customs
relative to tenure of lands, tribes, and status of the people, are now
legalised; and the representatives have shown their strong and
sensible desire to retain all that was good in their national code of
laws, but which had been put away, together with things evil, at the
suggestion of resident foreigners.
That the latter were so effectually prevented from unduly influencing
the young Parliament, was doubtless due to the presence of H.B.M.
Deputy-Commissioner for Tonga, A. P. Maudslay, and of Mr Wilkinson,
both of whom have been engaged in the establishment of the new
Government in Fiji, and well know the wisdom of ruling a
semi-civilised race by retaining, so far as is possible, their own
ancient feudal customs.
Footnote 4:
A great Tongan chief, settled in Fiji, who, up to the time of
annexation, contested with Thakombau for the supremacy. I have just
received news of his death.
Footnote 5:
Since my return to England, I have heard the statement corroborated.
Footnote 6:
_Vide_ ‘At Home in Fiji’ (C. F. Gordon Cumming), vol. ii.
Footnote 7:
The struggle lasted for some time. Finally, Malietoa again got the
upper hand, and was acknowledged king by the foreign Powers, General
Bartlett, U.S., being his prime minister. In August 1879, the Hon. Sir
Arthur Hamilton Gordon, Commissioner for the Western Pacific, arrived
at Apia, and concluded a treaty with the king and Government of Samoa,
declaring perpetual peace and friendship between the people of their
respective isles. The Samoans ceded to Britain the right to establish
a naval station and coaling depot, as had previously been granted by
treaty both to Germany and America. On the 8th November 1880 King
Malietoa died. He was barely forty years of age, and a man greatly
loved by all his own people. Probably but for the disturbing presence
of the meddling whites, he might still be reigning over a happy and
prosperous people. As it is, the country is once more in a state of
anarchy; and the good bishop, whose heart yearned for the peace and
prosperity of the people, has himself passed away to the world where
all is peace.
Footnote 8:
_Didunculus strigirostris._
Footnote 9:
Or more correctly, in old Celtic parlance, _tuaphol_—that is to say, a
turn contrary to the course of the sun, keeping the left hand towards
the centre. It was only used when invoking a curse, as opposed to the
turn _deisul_, which invoked a blessing on the object round which the
turn was made. The superstition is common to all lands in whose early
mythology sun-worship held a place. See ‘From the Hebrides to the
Himalayas,’ vol. i. p. 203.
Footnote 10:
The _sulu_ of the Friendly and Fijian Isles, the _pareo_ of Tahiti,
the _sarong_ of the Malays, or the _comboy_ of the Singalese, is
simply a fathom of cloth wrapped round the lower limbs, and reaching
to the knee or the ankle, according to the width of the material.
Footnote 11:
Capital of Fiji.
Footnote 12:
Shortly after the above was written, the Pacific was electrified by
the sudden collapse of this huge mercantile house, which failed for
the modest sum of one million sterling.
Footnote 13:
_Vide_ New Zealand Blue-Book, 1874—evidence of Mr Sterndale, late
_employé_ of Mr Godeffroy.
Footnote 14:
Sea-urchins.
Footnote 15:
_Fa_ “in the manner of”—
_Vaka-Viti_, Fiji-wise.
_Faka-Tonga_, Tonga-wise.
_Fa-Samoa_, Samoa-wise.
Footnote 16:
Great love to you.
Footnote 17:
Apparently women are held in higher estimation by the Samoans than by
some folk in the British Isles. I have just heard of a Highlander
driving a very fierce bull along a highroad. To him, quoth a friend,
“That is a dangerous-looking brute!” “Ou na!” replies the owner; “he
is just as ceevil as a sheep. He wadna hurt onybody, unless, maybe,
weemen and bairns and suchlike!”
Footnote 18:
The Rev. W. Wyatt Gill has recorded a multitude of most interesting
examples of such parables from nature. Moreover, happily for all
lovers of such lore, he has, during his mission career in the Hervey
Isles, found time to preserve many delightful “Myths and Songs from
the South Pacific.” It is much to be wished that the same could be
done for other groups.
Footnote 19:
_Crinum asiaticum._
Footnote 20:
Nineteen Years in Polynesia. By the Rev. George Turner, London
Missionary Society.
Footnote 21:
For a few examples, to which many more might be added, see ‘From the
Hebrides to the Himalayas,’ vol. i. pp. 16, 74, 130–134.
Footnote 22:
_Vide_ ‘At Home in Fiji,’ by C. F. Gordon Cumming.
Footnote 23:
_Aitutaki_, “led by God.”
Footnote 24:
Notably one dug out of the peat-moss at Ballachulish, now in the
Antiquarian Museum in Edinburgh; and those in the Museum at Hull; also
those in the Berlin Museum. All these have the eyes formed of quartz
pebbles, instead of the bits of pearly shell or of obsidian used in
the manufacture of idols in the Pacific.
The stone gods also had their counterparts in our own isles. When Dr
Turner visited the Union or Tokelau Isles in 1850, he found that the
great god, Tui Tokelau, was supposed to be embodied in a rude stone,
which was carefully wrapped up in fine mats, and never seen by any
human eyes save those of the king, who is also the high priest. Even
he might only look upon the sacred stone once a year, when the old
mats were removed and new ones supplied. Of course constant exposure
in all weather, day and night, soon decayed the mats; but the
worshippers continually offered new ones, _especially in cases of
sickness_, and these were wrapped round the idol, so that, ere the day
came round for its disrobing, it attained a prodigious size. The old
mats were considered so sacred that none might touch them; so they
were laid in a place apart, and there left to rot. The month of May
was especially devoted to the worship of this god, and the people
assembled from all the Tokelau isles to hold a great feast in its
honour, and to pray for prosperity and health, and especially _for an
abundant supply of fish_ and cocoa-nuts.
Now turn from the Pacific to the North Atlantic, and read a statement
by the Earl of Roden, in his ‘Progress of the Reformation in Ireland.’
He says:—
“In the south island—_i.e._, Inniskea, off the coast of Mayo—in the
house of a man named Monigan, a stone idol, called in the Irish
_Neevougi_, has been, from time immemorial, religiously preserved and
worshipped. This god resembles in appearance a thick roll of home-spun
flannel, which arises from the custom of dedicating a dress of that
material to it whenever its aid is sought; this is sewn on by an old
woman, its priestess, whose peculiar care it is. Of the early history
of this idol no authentic information can be procured, but its power
is believed to be immense. _They pray to it in time of sickness_; it
is invoked _when a storm is desired to dash some hapless ship upon
their coast_; and again, the exercise of its power is solicited in
calming the angry waves _to admit of fishing_ or visiting the
mainland.”
It scarcely seems possible, does it, to realise that our own ancestors
were as gross idolaters as any South Sea Islanders? Yet in the
majority of these isles the present generation have never seen an idol
of any sort; and should they ever visit our museums, they would gaze
on the gods of their own fathers as wonderingly as we do on those of
the early Britons.
Footnote 25:
Alas! the fate of the majority has already been sealed. In the spring
of 1881, the following brief paragraph announced that the lives of
these brave pioneers had already been sacrificed:—
“MASSACRE OF MISSIONARIES.—Despatches received in Liverpool announce
the massacre in New Guinea of a number of missionaries belonging to
the London Missionary Society. The news was conveyed to Melbourne in a
telegram from the Rev. Mr Beswick, who himself narrowly escaped with
his life. On the 7th of March the missionaries were attacked by the
natives at Kato, in the district of Port Moresby, Hulu, and four of
them, with two of their wives, four children, and two servants, were
killed. The natives also attempted to kill four native boys who were
with the missionary party, but they saved themselves by swimming. Not
the slightest provocation was given; but it is stated in the despatch
that the perpetrators of other previous massacres on the coast have
not been punished, and this is considered to be the main cause of the
outbreak. The total number of persons killed was twelve, but the list
would have been much greater had not the remainder of the party made
their immediate escape. For fear the natives would make a further
attack upon the missionaries in the outlying districts, they were all
removed from their stations to Port Moresby.”
Footnote 26:
Foreign.
Footnote 27:
The thought of this poor savage, week by week imperilling his life by
crossing that stormy sea in his frail canoe, has often come vividly to
my mind as an illustration of the words in Deut. xxx. 11–14: “This
commandment which I command thee this day, it is not hidden from thee,
neither is it far off. It is not ... beyond the sea, that thou
shouldest say, Who shall go over the sea for us, and bring it unto us,
that we may hear it, and do it? But the word is very nigh unto thee,
in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that thou mayest do it.”
Footnote 28:
Christianity.
Footnote 29:
See note on _Etu_ worship at the end of this letter.
Footnote 30:
See an interesting article on the origin of clan names in Britain,
‘Cornhill Magazine,’ September 1881—“Old English Clans.”
Footnote 31:
It is hard to have to think of that tender and loving heart as of a
mere material relic. Yet, as the heart of the Bruce, enshrined in its
golden casket, was carried by his true knight to that Holy Land which
his feet might never tread, so has the heart of this saintly
prelate—the first Bishop of Samoa—been borne by his faithful
followers, to find its resting-place in the church where for so many
years he pleaded for, and with, his people.
It was brought from France by Père Lamaze, now consecrated Bishop of
the Isles. The heart is enclosed in a glass urn, with an outer case of
gold, ornamented with precious stones, and supported by four angels.
On the lid of this reliquary is a representation of a bishop appearing
before the judgment-seat of our Lord.
On reaching Samoa, the casket was deposited at Vaea, while
preparations for its reception were made at Apia. On the 24th May
1881, about six hundred Catholics assembled at sunrise at the church
at Vaea, to pay a last tribute of respect and devotion to their loved
bishop; then forming in solemn procession, they moved towards Apia.
The children from the convent school at Savalalo walked first,
followed by their teachers; next the Catholics of Apia and the
surrounding districts. These were followed by the clergy, four of whom
acted as pall-bearers, while four others carried the heart. Last of
all came the Catholic chiefs, the catechists of Vaea College, and the
natives residing at the mission-house at Apia.
On reaching the church, a sermon was preached by Bishop Lamaze, and
the heart was then deposited in a niche in the wall, there to remain
enshrined, as a perpetual memorial to the people of Samoa of the
earnest and noble life that was spent in striving to exemplify the
holiness he preached.
Footnote 32:
The following paragraph is from a recent Hawaiian Gazette, showing the
course of events in Samoa:—
“We learn, through the courtesy of Lieutenant Abbot of the Lackawanna,
some interesting particulars in relation to the political condition of
the Samoan archipelago. The chief Malietoa, whose name is identified
with the sovereignty of Samoa, is dead, and his nephew and namesake
has succeeded to his political authority and state; but a rival chief,
Kepua Tomisasu, has been contesting the succession, and previous to
the arrival of the Lackawanna there had been a series of desultory
semi-barbarous war campaigns—not resulting in any decisive action or
notable slaughter of men, but causing widespread ruin, robbery, and
unrest. The American commander Gillis now presented his good offices
in the way of reconciliation, and to establish between rival chiefs
and peoples of the same land a more harmonious and patriotic spirit.
And we are happy to say that, after many baffling discussions, a
political unity and harmony on Samoa have been effected—Malietoa II.
being proclaimed King of Samoa, and his rival, Kepua, the Premier of
Samoa, with an authority on public questions somewhat like our former
Kuhina Nui.
“The Samoan warriors have all dispersed and returned to peaceful
pursuits. The terms of peace were drawn up and signed on board the
Lackawanna in the harbour of Apia, and a royal salute of 21 guns was
fired from the vessel in honour of the event.
“We are glad to recognise that in this instance the commander of an
American man-of-war intervenes solely as a peacemaker, and to promote
the best welfare of a Polynesian people.”
Footnote 33:
Colonial abbreviation for San Francisco.
Footnote 34:
Capital of Fiji.
Footnote 35:
An explanation which resulted in the complete exoneration of Captain
Aube, and his appointment to the command of La Savoie,—a finer vessel
than that from which he had been so summarily dismissed.
Footnote 36:
The good bishop had the satisfaction of reaching _la belle France_,
and there effectually pleading the cause of his friend, ere he laid
down the burden of life, which he had borne with so much anxious care
for the weal of his people. He died very shortly after his return to
Europe.
Footnote 37:
King Pomare II. was the first person who was publicly baptised in
Tahiti. The service took place on 16th July 1819.
Footnote 38:
_Vahine_, a woman.
Footnote 39:
And in this year of 1882 still continue to crop up, greatly to the
benefit of the lawyers, who find in the affairs of the Estate Brander,
a harvest far too remunerative to be lightly abandoned.
Footnote 40:
Soon after my return to England, I heard that this happy home had been
invaded by ophthalmia of a virulent type, necessitating an immediate
return to France, and long and anxious care; but nevertheless
resulting in the partial blindness for life of two of those merry
boys. Even the Tahitian paradise has its thorns.
Footnote 41:
The late Sir Archibald Dunbar of Northfield, in the county of Elgin,
married, firstly, my father’s sister, Miss Gordon Cumming of Altyre
and Gordonstown; and secondly, Miss Brander, heiress of Pitgaveny,
whom, consequently, we have known all our lives, and loved much.
Footnote 42:
Pandanus.
Footnote 43:
My soul is defiled with sin.
Footnote 44:
_Musa uranascopus._
Footnote 45:
_Acanthaster solaris._
Footnote 46:
_Acrocladia mamillata._
Footnote 47:
_Conus textilis._
Footnote 48:
Let not the nations of the West sneer at these superstitions of the
East. Faith in the efficacy of the king’s touch as a cure for scrofula
was implicit both in France and England for many a long year. So early
as A.D. 481 it was practised by Clovis. And it is recorded that on
Easter Day, 1686, Louis XIV. touched 1600 persons, saying to each, “Le
roy te touche, Dieu te guérisse!” This singular divine right was first
claimed in England by Edward the Confessor in 1058, and his successors
carried it on. Charles I. did, on St John’s Day, 1633, visit Holyrood
Chapel, where “he heallit 100 persons, young and old, of the cruelles
or king’s evil.” Charles II. actually touched 92,107 such
patients—being an average of 12 per diem for twenty years. His
exchequer must have suffered by this kingly privilege, as he presented
a broad gold piece to each sufferer. The touch of Queen Elizabeth was
declared “a sure relief when all other methods have failed.” Henry
VIII., not content with miraculously curing all scrofula patients,
also healed those afflicted with cruel cramps. Dr Johnson speaks of
his earliest recollections of Queen Anne, into whose awful presence he
had been ushered in his infancy, that by her royal touch she might
cure him of his sore disease! The office appointed by the Church to be
said on these occasions was actually retained in the English liturgy
till 1719, when it was omitted by command of George I. But so late as
1745 many of the Jacobite party came secretly to Charles Edward, to
crave his healing touch. See ‘From the Hebrides to the Himalayas’ (C.
F. Gordon Cumming), vol. i. p. 264.
Footnote 49:
_Dracæna terminalis._
Footnote 50:
_Asplenium nidus._
Footnote 51:
Which proved to be the exact state of the case.
Footnote 52:
All of which I found to be strictly true. Undoubtedly, the ideal
Pacific Isles lie south of the equator.
Footnote 53:
We can scarcely describe this proceeding as the _thin_ end of the
wedge, but it was obvious from the beginning that the assumption of
the Protectorate was merely a cloak for forcibly taking possession of
these gems of the Pacific. _The cloak was finally thrown aside in June
1880, when King Pomare V. was persuaded by the commandant to cede the
nominal sovereignty of the isles to those who had so long held its
reality_, and to accept a life-pension of 12,000 dollars a year, which
he might enjoy in peace in his own fashion, and so escape from the
continual tutoring, which made his kingly rank a wearisome burden,
devoid of all honour.
_The annexation of Tahiti was formally proclaimed in Papeete on 24th
March 1881_, and was made the occasion of a brilliant festival, such
as the light-hearted crowds are ever ready to welcome. Great were the
official rejoicings. From every ship in the harbour, and every corner
of the town, floated the tricolour, which likewise adorned the raven
tresses of the women and the button-holes of the men. Great was the
noise of big guns, and the amount of powder expended on salutes. An
imposing column of all branches of the service—sailors and marines,
marine artillery, with their guns, infantry, and gendarmes—marched
round the town, headed by the band: “A Tahiti, comme en France, on
aime à voir passer nos soldats,” says the ‘Messager de Tahiti.’ So the
lovely town was _en fête_. Every _himène_ chorus had arrived from
every corner of the isles, making the whole air musical. Thousands of
natives, all in their brightest, freshest dresses, kept up incessant
movement in the clear sunlight or cool shade. Everywhere games and
feasting were the order of the day. In the governor’s beautiful
gardens, a brilliant banquet for upwards of a hundred persons was
served in a great tent, all as graceful as the combined taste of
France and Tahiti could make it. Then followed a lovely garden
festival, just such as that described by “The Earl and the Doctor,” a
gay ball for the leading inhabitants, while “the people” danced no
less joyously on the green, outside the sacred precincts. Games,
music, dancing, and feasting, with a night of brilliant illuminations
and fireworks,—all these, combined with lovely surroundings and
perfect weather, made the great official festival of Tahiti a day
which the French naval officers very naturally consider one to be
remembered for ever, but which, perchance, may have caused some of the
older inhabitants an angry and bitter pang, for the independence of
their country thus lost for ever.
Footnote 54:
Immediately alter the declaration of the annexation of the Society
Isles, comes the news that _the French have also annexed the Gambier
Isles_, which lie to the south-west, in the direction of Pitcairn’s
Isle. _Our Gallic friends have thus secured a very admirable
semicircle of the four finest groups in the Eastern Pacific._ Here
they can now consolidate their strength, and await the influx of
commerce which must of necessity pass through this _cordon_, _when M.
Lesseps shall have opened the Panama Canal for the traffic of the
world_.
Here French ships will touch on their way to and from the Loyalty
Isles and Cochin-China; while ships of all nations, plying between
Europe and Australasia, will necessarily pass the same way, and
contribute their quota to the wealth of the French Pacific.
The Gambier Islands have been gradually prepared for their adoption by
France, the Catholic Mission having there ruled supreme for some
twenty years.
Till quite recently, the Bible has been a prohibited book, but now, of
the few remaining natives, a large proportion are learning to read
Tahitian, in order to be able to study the Scriptures for themselves;
and the Protestant Mission in Tahiti has responded to this desire, by
sending copies of the New Testament for gratuitous distribution in the
group. From one cause or another, however, a very small number of
natives now exist, the islands having become wellnigh depopulated.
Footnote 55:
Although the French have had possession of the group for so many
years, the natives of some of the islands have never been really in
subjection to the authorities until last year, when Admiral Bergasse
du Petit Thouars visited the group, and with the aid of volunteers,
natives of Tahiti, and of the friendly isles of Marquesas, succeeded
in disarming and bringing into subjection the hostile tribes, and that
without firing a shot.
The admiral himself headed the troops across the mountains from
village to village, arriving one night on the coast about midnight,
having been conducted by natives who knew the passes: these passes
were lighted up by the electric light from the frigate, which was
anchored in the bay. The French took 600 muskets from the natives of
the two islands, Hiva-oa and Fatuhiva. They say that the natives are
really not a bad sort of people, but their curse, like that of all the
islands, is “_drink_.” This, and the conduct of unprincipled
foreigners, has been the real cause of all the trouble.
I affix a note which I copy from the ‘Messager de Tahiti’ for 30th of
July 1880, which is all that has appeared in the paper on the
subject:—
“Le Contre-Amiral commandant en chef le corps expéditionnaire aux
Marquises, témoigne aux volontaires Tahitiens, aux volontaires
Marquisiens, aux militaires de toutes armes, ainsi qu’aux marins qui
ont pris part à l’expédition des Marquises, toute sa satisfaction.
“Grâce à leur esprit militaire, à leur dévouement et à leur
discipline, l’île de Hiva-oa et celle de Fatuhiva ont été rapidement
soumises et désarmés, et la paix régne partout aux Marquises.”
Footnote 56:
Sun-dried nut, exported for the manufacture of oil.
Footnote 57:
_Holothuroides._ Chinese name, _Tripang_.
Footnote 58:
The question was decided in her favour. She has been refitted and
renamed and now sails the Pacific as the Annie Johnson.
Footnote 59:
I do not by this mean to suggest any trace of a common origin, merely
founded on ancestor-worship, which prevailed in almost all countries,
and which in the Pacific is to this day practised by the Papuan races.
The islanders of the Torres Straits, in common with those of the Line
islands, worship the skulls of their ancestors, and treasure them in
their huts as reverently as did the Tahitians in heathen days.
Footnote 60:
For a trace of this custom, as practised in the Marquesas, see p. 257.
Footnote 61:
Whence has developed the Torii.
Footnote 62:
This is emphatically true of Fijian. See ‘At Home in Fiji,’ vol. i. p.
136.
Footnote 63:
_Calophyllum inophyllum._
Footnote 64:
_Entada scandens._
Footnote 65:
If any are disposed to doubt this statement, they have only to refer
to the circumstantial and thoroughly authenticated accounts published
by the various missionary societies; those, for instance, of the
American Board, which again and again, in the early days of the
mission to the Sandwich Isles, have occasion to refer to the outrages
committed by British and American seamen, who came in armed bands to
attack the mission stations, in their rage at the influence acquired
by the missionaries, and the consequent change in the morals of the
people. Again and again life and property were threatened, and the
mission premises were only saved from destruction by the timely
arrival of determined chiefs and their retainers.
Footnote 66:
The gods also were supposed to feed on the essence of the food offered
to them. Every evening the priest in the principal temple of Mangaia
cooked an ovenful of _taro_ for their use, and threw one root at a
time into the scrub, dedicating each to one of the gods. When the
thirteen principal deities had thus been recognised the priest threw
one more, as an offering to all the lesser gods, of whose names and
attributes he was ignorant. This ceremony exactly answers to one which
I have seen practised at the Buddhist monasteries in China, where, ere
the monks taste their own food, a small portion is set aside on a
pillar, as an offering to any saintly or divine beings whom they have
neglected in their temple-worship.
Footnote 67:
_Erythrina corallodendrum._
Footnote 68:
The next I saw were at the British Legation in Pekin, where they were
objects of intense interest, as being probably the first ever grown in
the Celestial Empire.
Footnote 69:
The Malay apple, familiar to us in Fiji as the _kaveeka_.
Footnote 70:
Just before leaving Tahiti, I bestowed equal care on three cases
containing 6000 stones, which were carried by sailing-ship to New
Zealand and thence to Fiji. Their arrival there was anxiously
expected, and all arrangements made for their speedy distribution
throughout the group. Alas! alas! when, after long delays, the cases
were opened, they were found to contain a mass of decay; poor dead
plants, which had sprouted during the voyage, and straightway died.
When this sad news reached me, I bethought me sorrowfully of the
advice given me by Monseigneur Janssen—namely, that as plants require
light and air to enable them to sprout, I would do well to compel them
to sleep by packing them in soot, and then having the case carefully
caulked. The mess involved in such work was so horrible, that I shrank
from undertaking it, but I bequeath the good advice to my successors
in the attempt.
Footnote 71:
Paloma—a dove.
Footnote 72:
Der stille Tag.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
● Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last
chapter.
● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.