Pacific, in golden Tahiti, about the year 1848, when Victoria was a
young queen and mother, when France was in the throes of a second
revolution, when the United States, a young republic, was still on trial
before the old world, there was enacted one of the most touching dramas
history has ever recorded, and this among a people considered savages by
the so-called civilized world, and almost unknown until discovered
through the missionary fervor of a few priests. The place, a small
island, only a speck on the map; the _dramatis personæ_, France, England
and America, the hereditary chiefs of a people who for forty generations
had known no other rulers, a weak, vacillating native queen, and a
noble-hearted native woman who knew how to be at the same time a loyal
subject, a skilled diplomat, and that rarer and more beautiful thing, a
faithful friend. If you would hear a story of friendship pure and
undefiled, listen to the story of Ariitaimai of Papara, a Tahitian of
noble birth, a child of Nature in its wildest and grandest aspect,
rocked in a gigantic cradle of sea, sky and towering mountains, in a
land of palm forests, where Nature has provided everything necessary to
the life of her children, and where the pearls are the purest. If Cicero
had known the story of Ariitaimai he would not have written in _De
Amicitia_: "But where will you find one who will not prefer to
friendship, public honors and power, one who will prefer the advancement
of his friend in public office to his own? For human nature is too weak
to despise power." But to understand this thrilling and eventful drama,
we must listen first to the chorus reciting something of the history of
this strange people, and of the position of woman in a land where
suffrage societies are unknown, and where the story of the inequality of
the sexes had never been told by book or priest. Tahiti, Matea and
Moorea are known as the Windward Islands of the Society Group in the
South Seas. The Leeward Islands comprise the four kingdoms, Huahine,
Borabora, Raiatea and Tahaa, together with some smaller islands, and are
about one hundred and twenty miles from Tahiti. But it has always been
in Tahiti, the gem of the Pacific, that the interest has been centered,
and it was here that the struggle took place between the English and the
French for supremacy in the South Seas.
It was in 1769 that Captain Cook entered Matavai Bay on his first voyage
to observe the transit of Venus. This spot is marked by a stone monument
and has been known ever since as Point Venus. At this time Cook
estimated the number of inhabitants at two hundred thousand. To-day,
after the long contention between the French and English for supremacy,
after the brave struggle of the natives against both for independence,
after all the ravages made by the diseases introduced by foreigners, and
after years of a fearful mortality caused by the enervating effect of
civilization upon a people suited only to be children of Nature, this
goodly number has been reduced to a pitiful eleven thousand. In fact,
our so-called nineteenth century civilization has succeeded in
practically exterminating a people who could produce a pearl among
womankind, a rare and tender soul, such an one as English history does
not give us, and France has produced but one, her own Jeanne D'Arc.
The government of the island has always been by chiefs and chiefesses,
no distinction of sex being made in laws of inheritance, the eldest born
inheriting the rank and estates and all the authority which the title of
chief conveys. Many of the chiefesses appear to have been exceedingly
warlike, true Amazons, contending with neighboring chiefs for more
authority and extensive possessions. Even as wives of the chiefs, women
went to war to help fight the battles of their husbands and clans. It is
reported of one of the Pomares who was of a peaceful disposition that in
one hotly contested encounter he fled to a neighboring island, leaving
his wife Iddeah to face the storm. History says that she was a great
warrior and carried the contest to a successful issue for her husband
and their possessions. It is recorded of another chief that he was not a
warrior and left the active campaigning to his wife. So it will be seen
that in the political life of Tahiti sex was not considered. Accident of
birth settled the title, and the warlike spirit miade the warrior,
whether it resided in chief or chiefess. England took a hand in the
island politics at a time when one of the weakest and most unpopular
chiefs was warring for the supremacy, and by assisting and upholding his
authority prolonged one of the most disastrous wars in the history of
Tahiti. The Tahitians detested tyranny and the insolence of a single
ruler, and in their tribal system of chiefs had a protection against
despotism which the foreigners, by their advocacy of the cause of a
special chief, afterwards Pomare I., destroyed.
Before the invasion of the English, the hereditary chief of each
district held absolute sway in his own province. Questions of common
interest were settled in the island councils by majority vote, and it
was in these deliberations that the chiefs of Papara had for generations
held the balance of political power. Politically, the change was
disastrous. In olden times whenever a single chief became arrogant and
threatened to destroy the rest, all the others united to overthrow him
and thus re-established the political equilibrium.
Ariitaimai belonged to the Clan of Tevas, of the chiefery of Papara, and
the family of Tati. She belonged to the clan which was ruled by Opuhara,
the last of the heathen chiefs who went down in the conflict with Pomare
II., who with the help of English guns was made absolute monarch of the
island. This conflict between Opuhara and the English, because Pomare
was only an instrument in their hands to accomplish the conquest of the
island, is responsible for the bitter hatred of the genuine natives for
the foreigners and the missionaries.
Opuhara was considered the greatest warrior and hero of the Tevas, and
his death, the result of a stratagem on the part of Pomare and the
English missionaries, is considered by his people a veritable
assassination. He fell by a shot fired by a native missionary convert.
Tati, one of the under-chiefs of Papara, had been persuaded by the
English to approach Opuhara to negotiate with him for submission. But
Opuhara turned on him with scorn. "Go, traitor," he said; "shame on you!
you, whom I knew as my eldest brother, I know no more; and to-day I call
this my spear, 'Ourihere,' brotherless. Beware of it, for if it meet you
hereafter, it meets you as a foe. I, Opuhara, have stood as Arii in Mona
Temaiti, bowing to no other Gods but those of my fathers. There I shall
stand to the end; and never shall I bow to Pomara or to the Gods forced
on us by the white-faced man." With Opuhara perished the last hope of
the native patriots to preserve a government of chiefs. His dying words
were all that was left to his clan of the glory and power of Papara. "My
children, fight to the last! It is noon, and I, Opuhara, the _ti_ of Mona
Temaiti, am broken asunder!" He fell a martyr to his belief in the
heathen gods, and in the ancient inherited rights of his people: a
tribal government. His followers have always firmly believed that
Opuhara would have won the contest had not the missionaries brought
their guns along with their Bibles.
It was this belief that Ariitaimai inherited with the beautiful lands of
Papara. She says in her memoirs: "I am told that Opuhara's spear,
'Brotherless Ourihere,' is now in the Museum of the Louvre. Even in
those days there were among all his warriors only two who could wield
it. If the missionaries have sometimes doubted whether the natives
rightly understood the truths and blessings of Christianity, perhaps one
reason may be that the Tevas remember how the missionaries fought for
Pomare and killed Opuhara."
Marama, the mother of Ariitaimai, was a celebrated chiefess in her own
right, the sole heir of Marama, the head chief of Moorea, the nearest
island to Tahiti. She was a great heiress, and the last representative
of the sacred families of these two islands. She was given in marriage,
as a political compromise and at the special request of King Pomare, to
Tati's son, the head chief of Tahiti. It was also agreed that all issue
of the marriage should become the adopted children of Pomare, according
to an ancient Tahitian custom. The family is a great institution in
Tahiti and any one whose parents both by birth and adoption had been
carried to the family Marae with offerings to the gods, enjoyed a rare
social distinction. This Ariitaimai could claim, so from her birth she
was looked upon by the islanders as an especially favored and
much-to-be-treasured maiden. It may be that this great respect shown
towards her by the entire people did much to mold her character. The
Tahitian mother has little to say in regard to the training of her
first-born, as this one is considered to belong to the family as a
whole, and all questions of general interest are settled in family
council. And so it was with Ariitaimai. She saw little of her mother,
but was in constant touch with the family chiefs from whom, no doubt,
she learned lessons in diplomacy, and from listening to their councils
she acquired that rare good judgment which fitted her later to be the
accepted advisor of her teachers. She mastered both the French and the
English languages, and her memoirs show a wonderful knowledge of the
literature of both countries, as well as a wide and comprehensive
reading of classical authors. While Ariitaimai was growing to womanhood,
the pride and special care of the chiefs of Papara, another maiden was
receiving equal care and attention on a neighboring island. Aimata of
Raiatea, the daughter of Pomare II., was only nine years old when her
father died and she was given into the care of the head chief Uata, who
was a good and learned man.
These two young girls who were destined to play such an important rôle
in the history of their country, grew up under much the same influences
and developed characters as widely different as the antipodes. They saw
each other only occasionally until Aimata's mother sent one day for
Ariitaimai to make a long visit at the royal castle, as was the custom
among the islanders, as Pomare had claimed her as his adopted daughter
according to the ante-natal contract. Here blossomed and grew the
friendship which was destined later to save to Pomare IV. her throne,
and to deliver Tahiti from a war which could only have resulted in the
extermination of the native population and the destruction of the island
as an independent government. The real struggle between France and
England for the possession of the island began in 1836, when two French
priests landed at Tahiti to convert not the pagans to Christianity but
Protestant Christians to the Roman faith. Aimata now become Pomare IV.,
promptly ordered their arrest and expulsion. The French priests made a
protest to their government and Louis Philippe sent a frigate to
Papeete, the harbor city, with an ultimatum, and the Queen was obliged
to yield. The English consul and the missionaries contested the
occupation of the French, and another frigate was sent to Tahiti. Queen
Pomare now appealed to Queen Victoria and offered to submit to a British
protectorate. She also sent a protest to the government of the United
States, against allowing the French to forcibly occupy Tahiti. But the
English Queen was busy with more important home affairs, and neglected
the appeal from the little island so far away, and the protest to the
United States was apparently ignored. By a lack of appreciation of the
Queen's communication, the United States lost the control of the gem of
all the Pacific isles, and lost also a rare opportunity to aid and
protect a brave people in their struggle for independence. This attitude
of England and the United States left the contest to be settled between
the natives and the French. After a desultory war lasting over four
long, miserable years, with the advantage first on one side and then on
the other, the French government decided to end the matter and sent two
frigates to the island. The government had offered previously to this to
place Pomare permanently on the throne under a French protectorate, but
she would not consent to this, looking constantly for help from the
English who had done so much for her father. So she left Tahiti, the
scene of the contest, and fled to Raiatea to her own family for
protection, while waiting for the help which never came.
Ariitaimai, in her own beautiful home at Papara, pondered over the
wretched state of her beloved country and her heart was sore both for
her idolized friend and poor bleeding Tahiti. Was there no way out of
this Slough of Despond into which the foreigners had plunged her unhappy
country? She knew the temper of the island chiefs and that they had
sworn to die fighting for the independence of their country. She
remembered the fate of Tati, who had been branded a traitor with
Opuhara's last breath because he counseled submission to the English,
and she dared not propose to them any compromising measures. She looked
out despairingly over the trackless sea, and appealingly up at the
towering mountains which had been her companions during prosperity and
adversity, but no answer came to her anxious questionings. Then
suddenly, one day, word was brought to her by an old woman of her clan
that two French frigates had landed in the harbor of Tahiti. She knew
this meant the end, unless Queen Pomare could be persuaded to return to
Tahiti and accept the offer of the French. The old crone who had brought
her the news said to her: "Don't you know that you are the first in the
Island, and that it remains in your hands to save all this and your
land?" Then Ariitaimai hesitated no longer, but hastened to the governor
and told him what she had heard. He replied: "You have heard the truth.
The colonel commanding the troops has heard of so many instances of
insult given to the French that we have decided at last to go out and
finish up the affair." This brusque answer aroused in Ariitaimai all the
stored-up energy of years. She became immediately the diplomatic
representative of her people, and begged the governor to give her a few
days that she might see the chiefs and make at least an effort to avert
the terrible havoc to lives and property which this would cause.
Ariitaimai was well known to the governor, and although evidently amused
that a young woman should take upon herself this difficult task, readily
consented. Like two generals they sat down and talked over all the terms
of the peace; the governor agreeing to restore Pomare to her throne if
she would return immediately, and to leave the chiefs in possession of
their estates and control each of his own chiefery, all to be under the
protection of the French flag. This, he said, they were willing to do,
although the Queen had broken her written agreement with them, and by
deserting her country and throne had absolved them from all obligations
to her. Before the conclusion of the interview Ariitaimai had won the
respect and admiration of the governor, and from that time on they
worked together to bring about a peaceable settlement of the long and
disastrous war. The journey which she was obliged to make in order to
meet the chiefs in council was a long one, and while she was making her
preparations the governor's own aid-de-camp arrived ready to accompany
her, bringing the governor's horses and all necessary passports. She
says in her memoirs: "I knew that my influence with the natives would be
sufficient to save us from any trouble with them." Arrived at last at
the principal native fort where the chiefs were assembled, her first act
showed her the accomplished diplomat. She sent a trusty messenger for
Nuutere, the one whose influence against peace she most feared, and who
with the other chief, Teaatoro, practically controlled the situation.
When he came out to see her she took him by the hand and said: "My
object in coming here is to bring peace, and I have counted on you for
the sake of old friendship to be my speaker in this trying instance."
She quaintly adds: "He was very much perplexed at this," evidently not
understanding why she could not speak for herself as she had often done
before. But to her surprise Ariitaimai found the old chief very much
broken in spirit and quite ready to listen to her arguments for peace,
and she soon had his promise to speak for the acceptance of the
governor's proposition. Human nature is very much the same the world
over, whether encased in a brown skin or white. Nuutere called Teaatoro
to him, and, after a hasty consultation, came over and whispered to
Ariitaimai that Teaatoro would be all right. This practically settled
the matter, but as in all political assemblies the usual formalities
must be gone through with and Nuutere called upon each one of the chiefs
for his opinion. The speakers all teemed with love and admiration for my
heroine and I can not refrain from making some quotations. Nuutere,
after stating the object of the meeting, called upon Teaatoro to make
the first speech. He said: "We are all as one person in this meeting,
and we have suffered together as brothers. We have heard what the object
of this lone woman's visit amongst us is, solely for our good and that
of our children. What can we say to this? We can only return her one
answer, which is to thank her for the trouble and danger she has taken
upon herself, for the peace she has brought, and she must return to the
French commander with this our answer. We have been five months on the
point of starvation. We lost a great many of our men at Tamavao. The
best of our blood was spilled at Mahaena. At Piha-e-atata, our young men
were slain. Our Queen left us in the midst of our troubles without the
least sorrow for us. We have heard no more of the help which was
promised us by Great Britain." Another chief rose and said: "Ariitaimai,
you have flown amongst us, as it were, like the two birds of Ruataa and
Teena. You have brought the cooling medicine of vainu into the hearts of
the chiefs. Our hearts yearn for you and we can not in words thank you;
you have brought us the best of all goods, which is peace. You have done
this when you thought we were in great trouble, and ran the risk of
losing our lives and property. Your people will prove to you in the
future that your visit will always remain in their memory." The old
chief of her own district turned toward Ariitaimai and said only: "As
you are my head, my eyes, my hands and my feet, what more can I say?
What you have decided we accept and will carry out." One dissenting
voice only was heard, a young chief who had but lately come into his
possessions and was anxious to distinguish himself as a warrior. He
called out in a loud voice: "Why have you decided upon this peace so
soon? Tahiti is not broken asunder. We could play with the French until
we could get aid of Great Britain, who has formally promised to help us
through in this war. I think you have all done wrong." But the young man
had his lesson to learn and it was promptly taught him by Ariitaimai's
spokesman. The spirit of young America is not appreciated in Tahiti,
where reverence for age and worship of the ancestors is a vital part of
the native pagan religion. Nuutere turned on the young man and asked:
"Where were you, that consider yourself such a fighting man, in the
fights which have already happened? I have never perceived you ahead of
the others. You do not excel the youngest of our men in all of these
battles. What are you known as in the annals of the country which allows
you to get up and speak when your chiefs have already given the word?"
Ariitaimai set out immediately on her return trip, this time escorted by
ten of the chiefs. Although they made all possible haste the time had
already expired before they reached the governor's headquarters, and
preparations were being made to attack one of the native forts, the
officers having concluded that her errand had been a failure. The
governor, seeing her at a distance, rode out to meet her and helped her
from her horse. He asked her anxiously in Tahitian, "Is it peace?" and
she replied that it was peace and that everything was all right with the
chiefs. He held her hand as he said with great feeling: "The Tahitians
should never forget you; but your work is not finished. You must now go
to Raiatea and bring us back the Queen." So Ariitaimai started on her
second and more difficult errand. At first Queen Pomare refused to
receive her, sending word that she was told that she had gone over to
the French; but later she granted her an interview in which she cried
very much, upbraiding her friend for the stand she had taken, and
accusing her of betraying her interests to the French.
The Queen then sent for the chiefs of her own family with whom she had
taken refuge, and, after a prolonged conference, they advised her not to
return. She said to Ariitaimai: "I trust to the word of Great Britain,
who has promised us to send ships and men to fight our cause and to keep
us an independent state, and I will not return and be under the French."
So after repeated pleading poor Ariitaimai was obliged to return to the
governor with Pomare's answer. He was much disappointed but said as the
chiefs of Tahiti had agreed to peace and as he had nothing to do with
the chiefs of Raiatea they must decide on another monarch, and offered
to make Ariitaimai queen of Tahiti in Pomare's place. But this the
faithful friend would not listen to, and begged the governor to allow
her again to see Pomare, as she believed that when she had had time to
think the matter over she would change her mind. To this the governor
very reluctantly consented, as he was entirely out of patience with
Pomare, and would much have preferred to make Ariitaimai queen, which
could have been done with great propriety, as she was at that time the
head chiefess of the island. After a stormy trip she arrived again at
Raiatea and this time was fortunate enough to find her friend Aimata
alone, the chiefs having gone to an assembly to consult over the affairs
of their own island. This time our faithful ambassadress did not hasten
her visit. She renewed and strengthened the ties of friendship which had
bound them together since their early girlhood, and she records in her
memoirs that they had a beautiful visit together before any mention was
made of the real object of her coming. The charming way in which she
speaks in her memoirs of Pomare's flight shows the tenderness of her
affection for her friend. She says, calling her by her girlhood name:
"The unfortunate Aimata had troubles of every sort, domestic, political,
private and public, until at last the missionaries English and French,
fought so violently for control of her and the island that she was
fairly driven away." With all her acuteness and learning in other
matters, she seems to have had no realization of the true character of
the woman she so beautifully idealized. She still saw in the Queen the
qualities she loved in the young girl, and her affection blinded her to
the defects in her friend's character which entirely unfitted her for
the position she occupied. Events do not move as rapidly in Tahiti as in
America, and our young diplomat, having the governor's promise to await
her return, took her own time. She remained with the Queen two months
and had the satisfaction of returning home with her promise to sail for
Tahiti as soon as her favorite schooner Ana could be made ready. But,
before sailing, another idea took possession of the unreasonable woman
and she sent word to the Tahitian chiefs that as the English had brought
her to Raiatea she would return only in an English ship, and demanded
that one be sent to fetch her.