often described and well known; but we cannot pass it here without
remarking a notable peculiarity on the part of the Polynesian people, as
exhibited in the character of their costume. The native tribes of almost
all other warm climates content themselves with the most scant
covering,—generally with no covering at all, but rarely with anything
that may be termed a skirt. In South America most tribes wear the
“guayuco,”—a mere strip around the loins, and among the Feegees the
“malo” or “masi” of the men, and the scant “liku” of the women are the
only excuse for a modest garment. In Africa we find tribes equally
destitute of clothing, and the same remark will apply to the tropical
countries all around the globe. Here, however, amongst a people dwelling
in the middle of a vast ocean,—isolated from the whole civilized world,
we find a natural instinct of modesty that does credit to their
character, and is even in keeping with that character, as first observed
by voyagers to the South Seas. Whatever acts of indelicacy may be
alleged against the Otaheitans, this has been much exaggerated by their
intercourse with immoral white men; but none of such criminal conduct
can be charged against the natives of the Friendly Isles. On the
contrary, the behavior of these, both among themselves and in presence
of European visitors, has been ever characterized by a modesty that
would shame either Regent Street or Ratcliffe Highway.
A description of the national costume of the Tongans, though often
given, is not unworthy of a place here; and we shall give it as briefly
as a proper understanding of it will allow. There is but one “garment”
to be described, and that is the “pareu,” which will be better
understood, perhaps, by calling it a “petticoat.” The material is
usually of “tapa” cloth,—a fabric of native manufacture, to be described
hereafter,—and the cutting out is one of the simplest of performances,
requiring neither a tailor for the men, nor a dressmaker for the other
sex, for every one can make their own pareu. It needs only to clip a
piece of “tapa” cloth in the form of an “oblong square”—an ample one,
being about two yards either way. This is wrapped round the body,—the
middle part against the small of the back,—and then both ends brought
round to the front are lapped over each other as far as they will go,
producing, of course, a double fold of the cloth. A girdle is next tied
around the waist,—usually a cord of ornamental plait; and this divides
the piece of tapa into body and skirt. The latter is of such a length as
to stretch below the calf of the leg,—sometimes down to the ankle,—and
the upper part or body _would_ reach to the shoulders, if the weather
required it, and often does _when the missionaries require it_. But not
at any other time: such an ungraceful mode of wearing the pareu was
never intended by the simple Tongans, who never dreamt of there being
any immodesty in their fashion until told of it by their puritanical
preceptors!
Tongan-fashion, the pareu is a sort of tunic, and a most graceful
garment to boot; Methodist fashion, it becomes a gown or rather a
sleeveless wrapper that resembles a sack. But if the body part is not to
be used in this way, how, you will ask, is it to be disposed of? Is it
allowed to hang down outside, like the gown of a slattern woman, who has
only half got into it? No such thing. The natural arrangement is both
simple and peculiar; and produces, moreover, a costume that is not only
characteristic but graceful to the eye that once becomes used to it. The
upper half of the tapa cloth is neatly folded or turned, until it
becomes a thick roll; and this roll, brought round the body, just above
the girdle, is secured in that position. The swell thus produced causes
the waist to appear smaller by contrast; and the effect of a well-formed
bust, rising above the roll of tapa cloth, is undoubtedly striking and
elegant. In cold weather, but more especially at night, the roll is
taken out, and the shoulders are then covered; for it is to be observed
that the pareu, worn by day as a dress, is also kept on at night as a
sleeping-gown, more especially by those who possess only a limited
wardrobe. It is not always the cold that requires it to be kept on at
night. It is more used, at this time, as a protection against the
mosquitoes, that abound amidst the luxuriant vegetation of the Tongan
Islands.
The “pareu” is not always made of the “tapa” cloth. Fine mats, woven
from the fibres of the screw-pine (_pandanus_), are equally in vogue;
and, upon festive occasions, a full-dress pareu is embellished with red
feather-work, adding greatly to the elegance and picturesqueness of its
appearance. A coarser and scantier pareu is to be seen among the poorer
people, the material of which is a rough tapa, fabricated from the bark
of the bread-fruit, and not unfrequently this is only a mere strip
wrapped around the loins; in other words, a “malo,” “maro,” or
“maso,”—as it is indifferently written in the varied orthography of the
voyagers. Having described this only and unique garment, we have
finished with the costume of the Tongan Islanders, both men and
women,—for both wear the pareu alike. The head is almost universally
uncovered; and no head-dress is ever worn unless a cap of feathers by
the great chiefs, and this only upon rare and grand occasions. It is a
sort of chaplet encircling the head, and deeper in front than behind.
Over the forehead the plumes stand up to a height of twelve or fifteen
inches, gradually lowering on each side as the ray extends backward
beyond the ears. The main row is made with the beautiful tail-plumes of
the tropic bird _Phaeton æthereus_, while the front or fillet part of
the cap is ornamented with the scarlet feathers of a species of parrot.
The head-dress of the women consists simply of fresh flowers: a
profusion of which—among others the beautiful blossoms of the orange—is
always easily obtained. An ear-pendant is also worn,—a piece of ivory of
about two inches in length, passed through two holes, pierced in the
lobe of the ear for this purpose. The pendant hangs horizontally, the
two holes balancing it, and keeping it in position. A necklace also of
pearl-shells, shaped into beads, is worn. Sometimes a string of the seed
of the pandanus is added, and an additional ornament is an armlet of
mother-o’-pearl, fashioned into the form of a ring. Only the men tattoo
themselves; and the process is confined to that portion of the body from
the waist to the thighs, which is always covered with the pareu. The
practice of tattooing perhaps first originated in the desire to equalize
age with youth, and to hide an ugly physiognomy. But the Tongan Islander
has no ugliness to conceal, and both men and women have had the good
taste to refrain from disfiguring the fair features which nature has so
bountifully bestowed upon them. The only marks of tattoo to be seen upon
the women are a few fine lines upon the palms of their hands; nor do
they disfigure their fair skins with the hideous pigments so much in use
among other tribes, of what we are in the habit of terming savages.
They anoint the body with a fine oil procured from the cocoanut, and
which is also perfumed by various kinds of flowers that are allowed to
macerate in the oil; but this toilet is somewhat expensive, and is only
practised by the better classes of the community. All, however, both
rich and poor, are addicted to habits of extreme cleanliness, and
bathing in fresh water is a frequent performance. They object to bathing
in the sea; and when they do so, always finish the bath by pouring fresh
water over their bodies,—a practice which they allege prevents the skin
from becoming rough, which the sea-water would otherwise make it.
House architecture in the Tongan Islands is in rather a backward state.
They have produced no Wrens nor Inigo Joneses; but this arises from a
natural cause. They have no need for great architects,—scarce any need
for houses either,—and only the richer Tongans erect any dwelling more
pretentious than a mere shed. A few posts of palm-trunks are set up, and
upon these are placed the cross-beams, rafters, and roof. Pandanus
leaves, or those of the sugar-cane, form the thatch; and the sides are
left open underneath. In the houses of the chiefs and more wealthy
people there are walls of pandanus mats, fastened to the uprights; and
some of these houses are of considerable size and neatly built. The
interiors are kept scrupulously clean,—the floors being covered with
beautiful mats woven in colored patterns, and presenting all the gay
appearance of costly carpeting. There are neither chairs nor tables. The
men sit tailor-fashion, and the women in a reclining posture, with both
limbs turned a little to one side and backwards. A curious enclosure or
partition is formed by setting a stiff mat, of about two feet width,
upon its edge,—the roll at each end steadying it and keeping it in an
upright position.
The utensils to be observed are dishes, bowls, and cups,—usually of
calabash or cocoa-shells,—and an endless variety of baskets of the most
ingenious plait and construction. The “stool-pillow” is also used; but
differing from that of the Feegees in the horizontal piece having a
hollow to receive the head. Many kinds of musical instruments may be
seen,—the Pandean pipes, the nose-flute, and various kinds of bamboo
drums, all of which have been minutely described by travellers. I am
sorry to add that war-clubs and spears for a similar purpose are also to
be observed conspicuous among the more useful implements of peace. Bows
and arrows, too, are common; but these are only employed for shooting
birds and small rodents, especially rats, that are very numerous and
destructive to the crops.
For food, the Tongans have the pig,—the same variety as is so generally
distributed throughout the Oceanic Islands. It is stated that the
Feegeeans obtained this animal from the Friendly Isles; but I am of
opinion that in this case the benefit came the other way, as the _Sus
Papua_ is more likely to have entered the South Sea from its leeward
rather than its windward side. In all likelihood the dog may have been
derived from the eastern edge; but the pigs and poultry would seem to be
of western origin,—western as regards the position of the Pacific.
The principal food of the Friendly Islanders, however, is of a vegetable
nature, and consists of yams, bread-fruit, taro, plantains, sweet
potatoes, and, in fact, most of those roots and fruits common to the
other islands of the Pacific. Fish also forms an important article of
their food. They drink the “kava,” or juice of the _Piper
methisticum_—or rather of its roots chewed to a pulp; but they rarely
indulge to that excess observed among the Feegees, and they are not over
fond of the drink, except as a means of producing a species of
intoxication which gives them a momentary pleasure. Many of them,
especially the women, make wry faces while partaking of it; and no
wonder they do, for it is at best a disgusting beverage.
The time of the Tongan Islanders is passed pleasantly enough, when there
is no wicked war upon hand. The men employ themselves in cultivating the
ground or fishing; and here the woman is no longer the mere slave and
drudge—as almost universally elsewhere among savage or even
semi-civilized nations. This is a great fact, which tells a wondrous
tale—which speaks trumpet-tongued to the credit of the Tongan Islander.
Not only do the men share the labor with their more delicate companions,
but everything else—their food, conversation, and every enjoyment of
life. Both partake alike—eat together, drink together, and join at once
in the festive ceremony. In their grand dances—or balls as they might
more properly be termed—the women play an important part; and these
exhibitions, though in the open air, are got up with an elegance and
éclat that would not disgrace the most fashionable ball-room in
Christendom. Their dances, indeed, are far more graceful than anything
ever seen either at “Almacks” or the “Jardin Mabille.”
The principal employment of the men is in the cultivation of their yam
and plantain grounds, many of which extend to the size of fields, with
fences that would almost appear to have been erected as ornaments. These
are of canes, closely set, raised to the height of six feet—wide spaces
being left between the fences of different owners to serve as roads for
the whole community. In the midst of these fields stand the sheds, or
houses, surrounded by splendid forms of tropic vegetation, and forming
pictures of a softly beautiful character.
The men also occupy themselves in the construction of their canoes,—to
procure the large ones, making a voyage as already stated, to the Feegee
Islands, and sometimes remaining absent for several years.
These, however, are usually professional boat-builders, and form but a
very small proportion of the forty thousand people who inhabit the
different islands of the Tongan archipelago.
The men also occasionally occupy themselves in weaving mats and wicker
baskets, and carving fancy toys out of wood and shells; but the chief
part of the manufacturing business is in the hands of the women—more
especially the making of the tapa cloth, already so often mentioned. An
account of the manufacture may be here introduced, with the proviso,
that it is carried on not only by the women of the Feegee group, but by
those of nearly all the other Polynesian Islands. There are slight
differences in the mode of manufacture, as well as in the quality of the
fabric; but the account here given, both of the making and dyeing, will
answer pretty nearly for all.
The bark of the malo-tree, or “paper-mulberry,” is taken off in strips,
as long as possible, and then steeped in water, to facilitate the
separation of the epidermis, which is effected by a large volute shell.
In this state it is kept for some time, although fit for immediate use.
A log, flattened on the upper side, is so fixed as to spring a little,
and on this the strips of bark—or _masi_, as it is called—are beaten
with an _iki_, or mallet, about two inches square, and grooved
longitudinally on three of its sides. Two lengths of the wet _masi_ are
generally beaten together, in order to secure greater strength—the
gluten which they contain being sufficient to keep their fibres united.
A two-inch strip can thus be beaten out to the width of a foot and a
half; but the length is at the same time reduced. The pieces are neatly
lapped together with the starch of the taro, or arrowroot, boiled whole;
and thus reach a length of many yards. The “widths” are also joined by
the same means laterally, so as to form pieces of fifteen or thirty feet
square, and upon these, the ladies exhaust their ornamenting skill. The
middle of the square is printed with a red-brown, by the following
process:—Upon a convex board, several feet long, are arranged parallel,
at about a finger-width apart, thin straight slips of bamboo, a quarter
of an inch wide. By the side of these, curved pieces, formed of the
midrib of cocoanut leaflets, are arranged. On the board thus prepared
the cloth is laid, and rubbed over with a dye obtained from the _lauci_
(_Aleurites triloba_). The cloth of course, takes the dye upon those
parts which receive pressure, being supported by the slips beneath; and
thus shows the same pattern in the color employed. A stronger
preparation of the same dye, laid on with a sort of brush, is used to
divide the square into oblong compartments, with large round or radiated
dots in the centre. The _kesa_, or dye, when good, dries bright. Blank
borders, two or three feet wide, are still left on two sides of the
square; and to elaborate the ornamentation of these, so as to excite
applause, is the pride of every lady. There is now an entire change of
apparatus. The operator works on a plain board; the red dye gives place
to a jet black; the pattern is now formed of a strip of banana-leaf
placed on the upper surface of the cloth. Out of the leaf is cut the
pattern—not more than an inch long—which the lady wishes to print upon
the border, and holds by her first and middle finger, pressing it down
with the thumb. Then taking a soft pad of cloth, steeped in the dye, in
her right hand, she rubs it firmly over the stencil, and a fair, sharp
figure is made. The practised fingers of the operator move quickly, but
it is, after all, a tedious process.
I regret to add, that the men employ themselves in an art of less
utility: the manufacture of war weapons—clubs and spears—which the
people of the different islands, and even those of the same, too often
brandish against one another. This war spirit is entirely owing to their
intercourse with the ferocious Feegees, whose boasting and ambitious
spirit they are too prone to emulate. In fact, their admiration of the
Feegee habits is something surprising; and can only be accounted for by
the fact, that while visiting these savages and professed warriors, the
Tongans have become imbued with a certain fear of them. They acknowledge
the more reckless spirit of their allies, and are also aware that in
intellectual capacity the black men are not inferior to themselves. They
certainly are inferior in courage, as in every good moral quality; but
the Tongans can hardly believe this, since their cruel and ferocious
conduct seems to give color to the contrary idea. In fact, it is this
that inspires them with a kind of respect, which has no other foundation
than a vague sense of fear. Hence they endeavor to emulate the actions
that produce this fear, and this leads them to go to war with one
another.
It is to be regretted that the missionaries have supplied them with a
motive. Their late wars are solely due to missionary influence,—for
Methodism upon the Tongan Islands has adopted one of the doctrines of
Mahomet, and believes in the faith being propagated by the sword. A
usurper, who wishes to be king over the whole group, has embraced the
Methodist form of Christianity, and linked himself with its
teachers,—who offer to aid him with all their influence; and these
formerly peaceful islands now present the painful spectacle of a divided
nationality,—the “Christian party,” and the “Devil’s party.” The object
of conquest on the part of the former is to place the Devil’s party
under the absolute sovereignty of a despot, whose laws will be dictated
by his missionary ministers. Of the mildness of these laws we have
already some specimens, which of course extend only to the
“Christianized.” One of them, which refers to the mode of wearing the
pareu, has been already hinted at,—and another is a still more off-hand
piece of legislation: being an edict that no one hereafter shall be
permitted to smoke tobacco, under pain of a most severe punishment.
When it is considered that the Tongan Islander enjoys the “weed” (and
grows it too) more than almost any other smoker in creation, the
severity of the “taboo” may be understood. But it is very certain, if
his Methodist majesty were once firmly seated on his throne, _bluer_
laws than this would speedily be proclaimed. The American Commodore
Wilkes found things in this warlike attitude when he visited the Tongan
Islands; but perceiving that the right was clearly on the side of the
“Devil’s party,” declined to interfere; or rather, his interference,
which would have speedily brought peace, was rejected by the Christian
party, instigated by the sanguinary spirit of their “Christian”
teachers. Not so, Captain Croker, of Her Britannic Majesty’s service,
who came shortly after. This unreflecting officer—loath to believe that
royalty could be in the wrong—at once took side with the king and
Christians, and dashed headlong into the affair. The melancholy result
is well known. It ended by Captain Croker leaving his body upon the
field, alongside those of many of his brave tars; and a disgraceful
retreat of the Christian party beyond the reach of their enemies.
This interference of a British war-vessel in the affairs of the Tongan
Islanders, offers a strong contrast to our conduct when in presence of
the Feegees. There we have the fact recorded of British officers being
eyewitnesses of the most horrid scenes,—wholesale murder and
cannibalism,—with full power to stay the crime and full authority to
punish it,—that authority which would have been freely given them by the
accord and acclamation of the whole civilized world,—and yet they stood
by, in the character of idle spectators, fearful of breaking through the
delicate icy line of _non-intervention_!
A strange theory it seems, that murder is no longer murder, when the
murderer and his victim chance to be of a different nationality from our
own! It is a distinction too delicate to bear the investigation of the
philosophic mind; and perhaps will yet yield to a truer appreciation of
the principles of justice. There was no such squeamishness displayed
when royalty required support upon the Tongan Islands; nor ever is there
when self-interest demands it otherwise. Mercy and justice may both fail
to disarrange the hypocritical fallacy of non-intervention; but the
principle always breaks down at the call of political convenience.
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THE TURCOMANS.
Asia has been remarkable, from the earliest times, for having a large
population without any fixed place of residence, but who lead a _nomade_
or wandering life. It is not the only quarter of the globe where this
kind of people are found: as there are many _nomade_ nations in Africa,
especially in the northern division of it; and if we take the Indian
race into consideration, we find that both the North and South-American
continents have their tribes of wandering people. It is in Asia,
nevertheless, that we find this unsettled mode of life carried out to
its greatest extent,—it is there that we find those great pastoral
tribes,—or “hordes,” as they have been termed,—who at different
historical periods have not only increased to the numerical strength of
large nationalities, but have also been powerful enough to overrun
adjacent empires, pushing their conquests even into Europe itself. Such
were the invasions of the Mongols under Zenghis Khan, the Tartars under
Timour, and the Turks, whose degenerate descendants now so feebly hold
the vast territory won by their wandering ancestors.
The pastoral life, indeed, has its charms, that render it attractive to
the natural disposition of man, and wherever the opportunity offers of
following it, this life will be preferred to any other. It affords to
man an abundant supply of all his most prominent wants, without
requiring from him any very severe exertion, either of mind or body;
and, considering the natural indolence of Asiatic people, it is not to
be wondered at that so many of them betake themselves to this mode of
existence. Their country, moreover, is peculiarly favorable to the
development of a pastoral race. Perhaps not one third of the surface of
the Asiatic continent is adapted to agriculture. At least one half of it
is occupied by treeless, waterless plains, many of which have all the
characters of a desert, where an agricultural people could not exist,
or, at all events, where their labor would be rewarded by only the most
scant and precarious returns.
Even a pastoral people in these regions would find but a sorry
subsistence, were they confined to one spot; for the luxurious herbage
which, for the most part, characterizes the great savanna plains of
America, is either altogether wanting upon the _steppes_ of Asia, or at
best very meagre and inconstant. A fixed abode is therefore impossible,
except in the most fertile tracts or _oases_: elsewhere, the nomad life
is a necessity arising from the circumstances of the soil.