CHAPTER XXV

America's claim to the Marquesas; adventures of Captain Porter in

1812; war between Haapa and Tai-o-hae, and the conquest of Typee

valley.

America might have been responsible for the death of the Marquesan

race had not the young nation been engaged in a deadly struggle with

Great Britain when an American naval captain, David Porter, seized

Nuka-hiva. A hundred years ago the Stars and Stripes floated over

the little hill above the bay, and American cannon upon it commanded

the village of Tai-o-hae. Beneath the verdure is still buried the

proclamation of Porter, with coins of the young republic, unless the

natives dug up the bottle after the destruction of the last of

Porter's forces. They witnessed the ceremony of its planting, which

must have appeared to them a ritual to please the powerful gods of

the whites. Unless respect for the _tapu_ placed on the bottle by

"Opotee" restrained them, they probably brought it to the light and

examined the magic under its cork.

The adventures of Porter here were as strange and romantic as those

of any of the hundreds of the gypsies of the sea who sailed this

tropic and spilled the blood of a people unused to their ways and

ignorant of their inventions and weapons of power.

Porter had left the United States in command of the frigate _Essex_,

to destroy British shipping, capture British ships, and British

sailors. Porter, son and nephew of American naval officers, destined

to be foster-father of Farragut, the first American admiral, and

father of the great Admiral Porter, was then in his early thirties

and loved a fight. He harried the British in the Atlantic, doubled

Cape Horn without orders, and did them evil on the high seas, and at

last, with many prisoners and with prize crews aboard his captures,

he made for the Marquesas to refresh his men, repair his ships, and

get water, food, and wood for the voyage home.

In Tai-o-hae Bay he moored his fleet, and was met by flocks of

friendly canoes and great numbers of the beautiful island women, who

swam out to meet the strangers. Among them he found Wilson, an

Englishman who had long been here and who was tattooed from head to

foot. On first seeing this man Porter was strongly prejudiced

against him, but found him extremely useful as an interpreter, and

concluded that he was an inoffensive fellow whose only failing was a

strong attachment to rum. With Wilson's eagerly offered help, Porter

made friends with the people of Tai-o-hae, established a camp on

shore, and set about revictualing his fleet.

The tribes of Tai-o-hae, or Tieuhoy, as Porter called it, were

annoyed by the combative Hapaa tribe, or collection of tribes, which

dwelt in a nearby valley, and these doughty warriors came within

half a mile of the American camp, cut down the breadfruit trees, and

made hideous gestures of derision at the white men. In response,

Porter landed a six-pound gun, tremendously heavy, and said that if

the Tai-o-hae tribe would carry it to the top of a high mountain

overlooking the Hapaa valley, he would drive the Hapaas from the

hills where they stood and threatened to descend.

To Porter's amazement, the Tai-o-hae men, surmounting incredible

difficulties, laid the gun in position, and as the Hapaas scorned

the futile-looking contrivance and declared that they would not make

peace with the whites, Porter sent his first assistant with forty men,

armed with muskets and accompanied by natives carrying these weapons

and ammunition for the cannon.

The battle began with a great roar of exploding gunpowder, and from

the ships the Americans saw their men driving from height to height

the Hapaas, who fought as they retreated, daring the enemy to follow

them. A friendly native bore the American flag and waved it in

triumph as he skipped from crag to crag, well in the rear of the

white men who pursued the fleeing enemy.

In the afternoon the victorious forces descended, carrying five dead.

The Hapaas, fighting with stones flung from slings and with spears,

had taken refuge, to the number of four or five thousand, in a

fortress on the brow of a hill. Not one of them had been wounded, and

from their impassable heights they threw down jeers and showers of

stones upon the retiring Tai-o-haes and their white allies.

This was intolerable. On the second day, with augmented forces, the

Americans stormed the height and took the fort, killing many Hapaas,

who, knowing nothing of the effect of musket bullets, fought till

dead. The wounded were dispatched with war-clubs by the Tai-o-haes,

who dipped their spears in the blood. Wilson said the Tai-o-haes

would eat the corpses. Porter, horrified, interrogated his allies,

who denied any such horrid appetite, so that Porter was not sure

what to believe.

The Hapaas were now become lovers of the whites, and sent a

deputation to complain that the Taipis (Typees), in another valley,

harrassed them and, being their traditional enemies, were

contemplating raiding Hapaa Valley. The Typees were the most

terrible of all the Nuka-hivans, with four thousand fighting men,

with strongest fortifications and the most resolute hearts.

The Typees were informed that they must be peaceful, also that they

must send many presents as proof of friendliness, or the white men

would drive them from their valley. The Typees replied that if

Porter were strong enough, he could come and take them. They said

the Americans were white lizards; they could not climb the mountains

without Marquesans to carry their guns, and yet they talked of

chastising the Typees, who had never fled before an enemy and whose

gods were unbeatable. They dared the white men to come among them.

At this juncture Porter faced treachery in his own camp. He had many

English prisoners captured from British ships, and these made a plot

to escape by poisoning the rum of the Americans. Porter learned of

this, and finding an American sentry asleep he shot him with his own

hand, and ordered every Englishman put in irons. He was also

troubled by mutinies among his own men, who were loth to face any

more battles, being contented as they were with plenty of drink, the

best of food, and the passionate devotion of the native women, who

thronged the camp day and night. With no light hand Porter put down

revolt and mutiny, and prepared to begin war on the Typees.

First he built a strong fort, assisted by the Tai-o-haes and Hapaas,

and there he took possession of the Marquesas in the name of the

United States. On November 19, 1813, the American flag was run up

over the fort, a salute of seventeen guns was fired from the

artillery mounted there and answered from the ships in the bay. Rum

was freely distributed, and standing in a great concourse of

wondering natives, with the Englishman, Wilson, at his side

interpreting his words, Porter read the following proclamation:

It is hereby made known to the world that I, David Porter,

a captain in the navy of the United States of America, now in

command of the United States frigate _Essex_, have, on the part

of the United States, taken possession of the island called by

the natives Nooaheevah, generally known by the name of Sir

Henry Martin's Island, but now called Madison's Island. That

by the request and assistance of the friendly tribes residing in

the valley of Tieuhoy, as well as of the tribes residing on the

mountains, whom we have conquered and rendered tributary

to our flag, I have caused the village of Madison to be built,

consisting of six convenient houses, a rope-walk, bakery, and

other appurtenances, and for the protection of the same, as

well as for that of the friendly natives, I have constructed a

fort calculated for mounting sixteen guns, whereon I have

mounted four, and called the same Fort Madison.

Our rights to this island being founded on Priority of discovery,

conquest, and possession, cannot be disputed. But the

natives, to secure to themselves that friendly protection which

their defenseless situation so much required, have requested to

be admitted into the great American family, whose pure republican

policy approaches so near their own. And in order

to encourage these views to their own interest and happiness,

as well as to render secure our claim to an island valuable on

many considerations, I have taken on myself to promise them

that they shall be so adopted; that our chief shall be their

chief; and they have given assurances that such of their brethren

as may hereafter visit them from the United States shall enjoy

a welcome and hospitable reception among them and be furnished

with whatever refreshments and supplies the island may

afford; that they will protect them against all their enemies

and as far as lies in their power prevent the subjects of Great

Britain from coming among them until peace shall take place

between the two nations.

There followed a list of the tribes from whom Porter had received

presents, to the number of thirty-one tribes, and the document

continued:

Influenced by considerations of humanity, which promise

speedy civilization to a race of men who enjoy every mental

and bodily endowment which nature can bestow, and which requires

only art to perfect, as well as by views of policy, which

secure to my country a fruitful and populous island possessing

every advantage of security and supplies for ships, and which

of all others is most happily situated as respects climate and

local position, I do declare that I have, in the most solemn

manner, under the American flag displayed in Fort Madison

and in the presence of numerous witnesses, taken possession of

the said island for the use of the United States.

To the guileless natives, made happy with rum, listening to the

necessarily imperfect translation of these words, the ceremony may

well have been a strange magic to unknown gods, but it is not

difficult to imagine the feelings of Wilson, the tattooed Englishman,

as he translated this proclamation giving the rich and happy islands

to a country at war with his own. He listened and repeated, however,

with patriotic protests unuttered, and prepared to assist Porter in

his contemplated war against the Typees.

A week later one of the warships, with five boats and ten war-canoes,

sailed for the Typee beach. Ten canoes of Hapaas joined them there.

The tops of all the neighboring mountains were thronged with friendly

warriors armed with clubs, spears, and slings, and altogether not

less than five thousand men were in the forces under Porter, among

them thirty-five Americans with guns, which he thought enough.

The Typees pelted them with stones as they sat at breakfast, and

Porter sent a native ambassador, offering peace at the price of

submission. He came back, running madly and bruised by his reception.

Porter then ordered the advance.

The company advanced into the bushes, and were received by a

veritable rain of stones and spears. Not an enemy was in sight. On

all sides they heard the snapping sound of the slings, the whistling

of the stones, the sibilant hiss of the spears that at every step

fell in increasing numbers, but they could not see whence they came,

and no whisper or rustle of underbrush revealed the lurking Typees.

They pushed on, hoping to get through the thicket, which Wilson had

assured them was of no great extent. Lieutenant Down's leg was

shattered by a stone, and Porter had to send a party with him to the

rear. This left but twenty-four white men. The native allies did no

fighting, but merely looked on. They were not going to make bitterer

enemies of the Typees if the godlike whites could not whip them. The

situation was desperate.

However, Porter chose to go on. They crossed a river, and in a

jungle had to crawl on their hands and knees to make progress. They

thought themselves happy to make their way through this, but

immediately found themselves confronted by a high wall of rock,

beyond which the enemy took their stand and showered down stones.

The cartridges were almost exhausted. Porter sent four men to the

ship for more, and, with three men knocked senseless by stones, was

reduced to sixteen men.

There was nothing to do but run for safety, and pursued by the

sneering foe, they gained the beach. Thence he sent another

messenger to the Typees offering them another chance to surrender

and pay tribute.

The Typees returned word that they "had driven the whites before them,

that their guns missed fire often, that bullets were not as painful

as stones or spears, that they had plenty of men to spare and the

whites had not. They had counted the boats, knew the number they

would carry, and laughed at the whites."

The Hapaas and other allies came down from the hills and began to

discuss the victory of the Typees, with fear in their voices and a

certain disdain of the whites. Porter ordered his men into the boats

to return to the ship, but scarcely had they reached it when the

Typees rushed on the Hapaas and drove them into the water. Porter

returned to Tai-o-hae.

There he saw no alternative but to whip the Typees soundly. This

time he determined to lack no force, and to go without allies. He

selected two hundred men from his ships and prizes, and, with guides,

upon a moonlight evening started to march overland to Typee Valley.

At midnight they heard the drums beating in Typee Valley. They had

had a fearful march over mountain and dale and around yawning

precipices. Silently they had struggled on, so as to give no hint of

their intention to Typee sentinels or even to a Hapaa village.

Numbers of the Tai-o-hae had followed them, but quietly, and these

now told Porter that the songs floating up from the Typee

settlements were rejoicings at their victory over the Whites and

prayers to the gods to send rain to spoil the guns.

Porter was for descending at once, but the Tai-o-haes warned him

that the path was so steep and dangerous that even in daylight it

would take all their skill to go down it. To attempt it at night

would be inviting death.

The Americans lay down to rest on this height, which commanded Typee

Valley, and shortly rain began to fall in torrents. Cries of joy and

praise to their gods arose from the Typees. Porter and his men,

huddled in puddles, unable to find shelter, and fearful that every

blast of the storm might hurl them from their slippery height, tried

in vain to keep muskets and powder dry.

At daybreak they found half the ammunition useless, and themselves

wearied, while the steepness of the track to the valley, and its

treacherous condition after the rain made it wise to seek the Hapaas

for rest and food. But, first, they fired a volley to let friendly

tribes know they still had serviceable weapons, and as threat and

warning to the Typees. They heard the echo in the blowing of

war-conches, shouts of defiance, and the squealings of the pigs

which the Typees began to catch for removal to the rear.

The Hapaas were none too pleasant to the whites, and had to be

forced by threats to bringing and cooking hogs and breadfruit. All

day the Americans rested and prepared their arms, at night they slept,

and at the next daybreak they stood again to view the scene of their

approaching battle.

The valley lay far below them, about nine miles in length and three

in width, surrounded on every side, except at the beach, by lofty

mountains. The upper part was bounded by a precipice many hundred

feet in height, from which a handsome waterfall dropped and formed a

meandering stream that found its outlet in the sea. Villages were

scattered here and there, in the shade of luxuriant cocoanut- and

breadfruit-groves; plantations were laid out in good order, enclosed

within stone walls and carefully cultivated; roads hedged with

bananas cut across the spread of green; everything spoke of industry,

abundance, and happiness.

A large force of Typee warriors, gathered beside the river that

glided near the foot of the mountain, dared the invaders to descend.

In their rear was a fortified village, secured by strong stone walls.

Nevertheless, the whites started down, and in a shower of stones

captured the village, killed the chief Typee warrior, and chasing

his men from wall to wall, slew all who did not escape. Few fled,

however; they charged repeatedly, even to the very barrels of the

muskets and pistols.

Porter realized that he would have to fight his way over every foot

of the valley. He cautioned conservation of cartridges, and leaving

two small parties behind to guard the wounded, he, with the main body,

marched onward, followed by hordes of Tai-o-hae and Hapaa men, who

dispatched the wounded Typees with stones and spears. They burned

and destroyed ten villages one by one as they were reached, until

the head of the valley was reached.

At the foot of the waterfall they turned and began the nine-mile

tramp to the bay. Again they had to meet spear and stone as they

burned temples and homes, great canoes, and wooden gods. Finally

Porter attained the fort that had stopped him during the first fight,

and found it a magnificent piece of construction, of great basaltic

slabs, impregnable from the beach side. He saw that if he had tried

that entrance to the valley again, he would have failed as before.

Only heavy artillery could have conquered that mighty stronghold.

From the beach the Americans climbed by an easier ascent into the

mountains, leaving a desolated valley behind them, and after

feasting with the Hapaas, they marched back to Tai-o-hae almost dead

with fatigue.

The Typees sued for peace, and when asked for four hundred hogs sent

so many that Porter released five hundred after branding them. He

had made peace between all the tribes; war was at an end; and with

the island subdued, Porter sailed again to make war on British

shipping.

He left behind him three captured ships in charge of three officers

and twenty men, with six prisoners of war, ordering them to remain

five months and then go to Chile if no word came from him. Within a

few days the natives began again to show the spirit of resistance

and were brought to courtesy by a show of force. Then another

difficulty arose. All but eight of the crew joined with the English

prisoners in seizing the officers, and put Lieutenant Gamble, the

commander, with four loyal seamen, adrift in a small boat, while the

mutineers went to sea in one of the English ships.

The five men reached another of the ships in the bay, where they

learned that Wilson had instigated the mutiny. The worst had not come,

for very soon the natives, perhaps also urged on by the Englishman,

murdered all the others but Gamble, one seaman, one midshipman, and

five wounded men. Of the eight survivors, only one was acquainted

with the management of a ship, and all were sufferings from wounds

or disease. With these men Lieutenant Gamble put to sea.

After incredible hardship, he succeeded in reaching Hawaii, only to

be captured by a British frigate which a few weeks earlier had

assisted in the capture of the _Essex_ and Captain Porter. The

United States never ratified Porter's occupation of Nuka-hiva, and

it was left for the French thirty years later to seize the group. At

about the same time Herman Melville, an American sailor, ventured

overland into Typee Valley, and was captured and treated as a royal

guest by the Typee people. He lived there many months, and heard no

whisper of the havoc wrought by his countrymen a little time before.

The Typees had forgiven and forgotten it; he found them a happy,

healthy, beautiful race, living peacefully and comfortably in their

communistic society, coveting nothing from each other as there was

plenty for all, eager to do honor to a strange guest who, they hoped,

would teach them many useful things.

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