1808 — 1809
The King now spent a considerable portion of his time in country excursions, for the purpose of shooting kalae. About this time a canoe was dispatched to the Ha’apai Islands, for the purpose of procuring a quantity of fish, several species being there found in much greater abundance than at Vava’u, or, at least, there is a much better opportunity of catching them, owing to the greater number of reefs and shelves. With this canoe, a certain chief, named Mahe puku [puku means small] departed for Ha’apai, where he possessed a large property, on which he was desirous to reside for the future. He had also a plantation at Vava’u, situated on the western coast, about a mile and a half long, and half a mile broad, one end of which ran down close to the water’s edge; this property he made a present of to the King.
It will be proper to give a description of this plantation, because it includes, near the sea, the most romantic spot in all the Tonga Islands; which constitutes the subject of many of their songs, and is a place of resort to the young and old of both sexes, who wish to enjoy, for a few hours, the luxury of romantic scenery. It is famous, also, for having been, at a former epoch, the scene of an enterprising action on the part of some young chiefs, who took refuge there from their adversaries, and obstinately held their position for six months.
It happens that nature has assembled in this spot, not only the wildest profusion of the vegetable kingdom, over which the lofty toa tree [this is the casuarina tree] stands pre-eminent, but also objects of another description, overhanging rocks, hollow-sounding caverns, and steep precipices, calculated to give an aspect as bold and sublime as the imagination can well conceive, and constituting a species of scenery, which, in proportion as it is more rare, is more admired by the natives. To this retired spot you proceed along a road which runs through the whole length of the plantation, till you arrive at a thick wood of tamanu trees and toa trees, situated on a very steep descent, down which the road becomes a narrow path, winding from side to side, and beset on either hand with the milo tree and siale [the gardenia bush. The Tongan variety has single flowers.], and other shrubs, planted by the liberal hand of nature, whose variegated flowers perfume the air with the most delightful aromatic fragrance; while, from the lofty branches of the trees, the ear is soothed with the soft and plaintive voice of the wood-pigeon calling to his mate. Having proceeded with slow and lingering step along this winding path, for about five hundred yards, a flat plantation of coconut trees presents itself, through which, at a little distance, a beautiful prospect of the sea, interspersed with small islands, suddenly bursts upon the view. On each side a steep and lofty ridge of rocks, in the form of a crescent, extends into the water, forming a sort of bay. The ridge of rocks on the left hand are, for the most part, the highest, but, at the termination of that on the right, one, loftier than the rest, extends upwards to a great height, like the turret of some ancient battlement. On this rock in former times, as popular tradition records, a band of young chiefs, the heads of a conspiracy, took refuge from the rage of their adversaries, and held the place during six months; it being quite inaccessible, except by one narrow path, exceedingly steep and dangerous, not wide enough to allow two persons to pass up abreast. This passage was, of course, perfectly under the command of those above, who, by rolling large stones down, could, at any time, hurl destruction upon whomsoever might rashly attempt to ascend. Here they remained in security as long as their stock of provisions lasted. They had supplied the place beforehand with ma, on which they lived during the whole time. Even when this was expended, they refused to yield, till famine and raging thirst had destroyed all but three, who, being tempted by a promise of pardon, gave themselves up to their adversaries. Scarcely was this done when they were taken before the king, who cruelly ordered them to be massacred in his presence. The number of those who died upon the rock were five, and they were buried on the spot. Three of the graves are still very apparent; the other two are pointed out, but they are not in so distinct a state. The natives, now and then, ascend this rock to enjoy the sublime beauty of the surrounding scenery, or to reflect on the fate of those rebellious men, who, so long ago, departed from the scene of public tumult, by dying in an unsuccessful attempt to change the order of things. Here the moral reflections of the native are sometimes heard in the following strain:
“Where now are those men who once held up their heads in defiance of their chiefs? Where now is the proud boast of superiority? Their bodies lie here mingled with the dust, and their names are almost forgotten! But their souls! How are they affected? Are they now the same ambitious spirits in Pulotu, as they were once in Tonga, when they animated this silent dust which is now all that remains of them? Are they still the partisans of sedition, tumult, and war? But no! in Pulotu they are all gods, and see with a clear understanding what is right, without the folly of fighting!”
The names of some of these chiefs are still known to a few of the old matapules, who have been at the pains of inquiring particulars from their fathers; but the cause in which they suffered is very imperfectly understood, and, no doubt, mixed up with a great deal of invention and surmise.
Such are the reflections of those who visit this spot and view the lonesome habitations of the dead; but it is not often that such visits are made, owing to the difficulty of the ascent, and the toil and trouble which it necessarily occasions. In the estimation of the romantic, however, this trouble is amply repaid by the rich and extensive scenery on every side, while the murmuring of the waves, breaking upon the rocks below, soothes the mind with a pleasing melancholy easier to be conceived than described. The effect which this works upon the minds of the natives will be more easily understood when we see a sample of their descriptive songs, which in language, like that of Ossian, [The Ossian are mythical ancient warrior-poets of Ireland] are plaintive and pathetic. In the first place, however, it is necessary to state a few particulars relative to this romantic and diversified spot, that certain passages of the ensuing song may be better understood.
On the right of the wood of tamanu trees there is another wood, consisting almost wholly of toa trees. Here the natives frequently resort to rinse themselves with the fresh water found in the hollows, between the junctions of the large branches or limbs that come off immediately from the trunk, after having bathed themselves in the sea. The salt water, without using such rinsing afterwards, is apt to produce in hot climates a cutaneous eruption. Besides which, the fresh water washing prevents that uneasy sensation of heat in the skin, upon a little exertion, attended with a clamminess; and sometimes, on the contrary, with a profuse perspiration. Here also they plait flowers which they have gathered at Mata’uto, (about a mile farther along the beach,) which the women put round their necks or take home to the mu’a, and present to their lovers or their friends, or to superior chiefs.
The following song is very often sung by them, or, to speak perhaps more correctly, is given in a sort of recitative by either sex. The Tonga language has neither rhymes nor regular measure, although some of their songs have both. It is perhaps a curious circumstance that love and war seldom form the subjects of their songs, but mostly scenery and moral reflections.
“While we were talking of Vava’u tu’a Liku, the women said to us, let us repair to the back of the island to contemplate the setting sun. There let us listen to the warbling of the birds and the cooing of the wood-pigeon. We will gather flowers from the burying-place at Mata’uto and partake of refreshments prepared for us at Liku’one. We will then bathe in the sea, and rinse ourselves in the Vau Aka; we will anoint our skins in the sun with sweet scented oil, and will plait in wreaths the flowers gathered at Mata’uto. And now as we stand motionless on the eminence over Anomanu, the whistling of the wind among the branches of the lofty toa shall fill us with a pleasing melancholy; or our minds shall be seized with astonishment as we behold the roaring surf below, endeavoring but in vain to tear away the firm rocks. Oh! How much happier shall we be thus employed, than when engaged in the troublesome and insipid affairs of life!
“Now, as night comes on, we must return to the Mu’a. But hark! — hear you not the sound of the mats? They are practising a po-ula (a dance performed by torch light) to be performed tonight on the mala’e at Ta’anea; let us also go there. How will that scene of rejoicing call to our minds the many festival held there, before Vava’u was torn to pieces by war. Alas! How destructive is war! Behold! How it has rendered the land productive of weeds, and opened untimely graves for departed heroes! Our chiefs can now no longer enjoy the sweet pleasure of wandering alone by moonlight in search of their mistresses. But let us banish sorrow from our hearts. Since we are at war, we must think and act like the natives of Fiji, who first taught us this destructive art. Let us therefore enjoy the present time, for tomorrow perhaps or the next day we may die. We will dress ourselves with si kula and put bands of white tapa round our waists; we will plait thick wreaths of siale for our heads, and prepare strings of huni for our necks, that their whiteness may show off the colour of our skins. Mark how the uncultivated spectators are profuse of their applause! But now the dance is over. Let us remain here tonight, and feast and be cheerful, and tomorrow we will depart for the Mu’a. How troublesome are the young men, begging for our wreaths of flowers, while they say in their flattery, ‘See how charming these young girls look coming from Liku! — How beautiful are their skins, diffusing around a fragrance like the flowery precipice of Mataliku.’ Let us also visit Liku; we will depart tomorrow.”
For those of us not from Tonga, the meanings of the Tongan words is this verse are as follows: tu’a is a place behind or beyond; Liku is the cliff-bound windward coast of an island; Mata’uto is literally, ‘a right that fell,’ the name of Mariner’s ‘api land grant, formerly owned by Mahe Puku; Liku’one, a bay on the north side of Vava’u, the site of Mariner’s plantation; vau, to scrape the outside of a tree; aka, the root of a tree; Anomanu, a large lake on Vava’u; Mu’a, a central place; po ula, a night dance; Ta’anea, a village on Vava’u; si kula, a variety of the Cordyline terminalis plant; siale, the gardenia; Mataliku, a beach with surf.
The theme of this Tongan verse appears in an other canto of Lord Byron’s poem: The Island, or Christian and His Comrades.
“But now the dance is o’er — yet stay awhile;
Ah, pause! nor yet put out the social smile.
Tomorrow for the mu’a we depart,
But not tonight — tonight is for the heart.
Again bestow the wreaths we gently woo,
Ye young enchantresses of gay Licoo!
How lovely are your forms! How every sense
Bows to your beauties, soften’d, but intense,
Like to the flowers on Mataloco’s steep,
Which fling their fragrance far athwart the deep! —
We too will see Licoo; but — oh! my heart! —
What do I say? — tomorrow we depart!”
The beautiful plantation, of which the above song is partly descriptive, is famed for the great fertility of its fields. The liberal hand of nature has there planted the breadfruit and coconut trees in abundance; the soil is also highly favorable for the cultivation of yams, which grow there larger than in most other places. The water which terminates it at one end is noted for the vast abundance of a peculiar fish which resort to the shores of Vava’u about the month of July. This fish they call ‘ulukau [a small fish, like a sardine] and is about the size of the common sprat, and of much the same shape and hue. The common people consider it a great delicacy, but there is considerable danger of being poisoned by eating them promiscuously, for here and there is found one which, on eating, produces the most alarming and sometimes the most fatal effects. The symptoms produced are headache, nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea, with violent pains in the bowels, to which death generally succeeds in the course of four or five hours. The only remedy they use (which very seldom succeeds) is to cause the patient to drink abundantly of water, or, what is considered still better, the milk of young coconuts. As there is no mark by which these poisonous ones may be known, it is always dangerous to eat of them, unless they be procured in the rocky bay of this plantation, where, they say, they never found any poisonous, and therefore eat of these without any reserve. The chiefs however seldom touch them, unless perhaps there is a scarcity of other fish. The time when they are best and in the greatest plenty is in the latter end of the month of July, when the natives flock to this plantation for the purpose of catching them; where, having procured a quantity, they take them home to their families in baskets made of plaited leaves of the coconut tree.
The occurrence of an occasional poisonous fish among a species of fish that is usually edible, as was reported here to Mariner by the natives of Tonga, is known today as ciguatera fish poisoning. More than three hundred species of reef and shore fishes have been known to be affected in this way. The most recent studies of the problem, still incomplete, indicate that the fish becomes poisonous by feeding on certain marine plants. Toxic substances from these plants accumulate in the flesh of the fish. The feeding habits of the fish consequently determine whether or not it is poisonous. Although the poisoning may be deadly to mammals, a carnivorous fish can feed unharmed on these poisonous, plant-eating fish and become, in turn, poisonous itself.
Ciguatera poisoning is a serious problem in certain tropical seas, such as in the central and south Pacific Ocean. It is, as the Tongan people said, unpredictable. It is also possible that in certain bays or reefs the fish may be uniformly free of the poison, as was the case at Liku’one.
Mahe puku, the chief to whom this valuable piece of ground belonged, being about to go and reside at the Ha’apai Islands, made a present of this delightful spot to the King.
Having now nothing particular in which to employ myself, the war being at an end, I begged of the King to give up this plantation to me, that I might amuse myself by seeing it properly cultivated. To this the King, after a little hesitation, consented. I requested the farther favor that I might be exempt from all taxes, that no chief might despoil this plantation, under pretext of levying any species of contribution; and this exemption, I observed, would be no more than what was consistent with the Tongan custom, which exacts no contribution from foreigners, unless indeed it be upon some sacred occasion, as the ceremony of ‘Inasi, etc. To this also the King gave his assent, upon mutual agreement, that the whole plantation was to be considered at Finau’s service, as being the father and protector of me, but that he would not take anything nor trespass upon it in any way without my consent, I was to regulate everything regarding it just as I pleased, and was henceforth to consider it as my property, together with all the persons who worked on it, consisting of thirteen men and eight women. To these persons the King gave orders they should pay the same attention and respect to me as to himself or their former chief; he moreover informed the matua, or overseer, that he had invested me with full power to dispatch any of them with the club that failed in their duty, or neglected in any respect to show proper attention to their new master. To this, in the usual form, they all returned thanks to the King for the new chief he had been pleased to appoint over them, and expressed their hopes that they should never deserve punishment by any want of respect towards the “stranger chief.” As soon as I entered upon my new possessions, I gave orders to get ready a large bale of ngatu, which I sent to Finau as a present.
About a month after this, a canoe came from one of the neighboring small islands, bringing intelligence that a large dead spermaceti whale had drifted on a reef, off Vava’u. Immediately all the chiefs ordered their canoes to be launched, that they might witness this unusual sight; and I went along with them. We found the whale in a very bad state, half decayed, and sending forth no very agreeable odour. This however was a circumstance we did not much regard, our object being the teeth. out of which the Tongans make a kind of necklace, by cutting them into smaller pieces, each preserving the shape of a whale’s tooth, from an inch to four inches long, having a hole in the broadest part, through which they are closely strung, and put round the neck; the largest being in front, and the others decreasing in size on each side, up to the back of the neck; so that, when drawn close, their pointed extremities spread out, and form a very agreeable ornament upon their brown skins, and is much prized by them, on account of its scarcity as well as beauty. [See illustration of a whale tooth necklace.] This has given rise to the accounts which voyagers have given that they wear teeth round their necks, whereas they are only forms of teeth cut out of the tooth of the whale; and it is astonishing with what neatness they do this, making as little waste as would be possible to do with much better instruments than what they possess; which is nothing, in general, but a common shaped European chisel, or a piece of a saw, or in defect of these, a flattened nail rendered sharp. Before they procured iron from European ships, they made use of a sharp stone. This kind of ivory they also use to inlay their clubs with, as well as their wooden pillows. The high price set upon these ornaments is exemplified in the following account, which Finau, on this occasion, gave me.
A short time after the revolt at Tongatapu, when Finau first became sovereign of Ha’apai and Vava’u, news was brought him of a large dead whale being drifted on a reef, off a small island, inhabited only by one man and his wife; who had the cultivation of a small plantation there. Finau immediately sailed for this place, and finding the teeth taken from the whale, questioned the man about them, who thereupon went to his house, and taking down a basket from the roof presented it to him, but in it were only two teeth. The man protested that he put them all there, and knew nothing more about them; and taxing his wife with having concealed them, she acknowledged that she had secreted one, and brought it to him, from a place in which no others were found; but this she assured him was all she had taken. The man defended his innocence on the plea that the teeth would be of no use to him; for being poor, he could not sell them for anything else, since every chief who could afford to give their value would question his right to them, and take them from him. For the same reason, he could not wear them. Finau was not satisfied with this plea, and being unable to make them confess by fair means, he threatened them both with death. The man still protesting his innocence, Finau ordered him to be immediately dispatched with a club; which being done, he again threatened the woman, and she as strongly protested her innocence. But when the club which had just ended the life of her husband was raised over her own head, she acknowledge that she had concealed another tooth, and accordingly brought it from a different place; and being unable or unwilling to produce any more, she shared the same fate. Finau’s conduct here seems very cruel; but however, we are to place a great deal to the account of the state of society in which he lived; and at the same time, we must consider that robbery is punished with death in other countries, as well as in Tonga. But what is most worthy of reflection is the strong hold which that ridiculous passion avarice takes of the human mind, which sometimes disposes a man to suffer death rather than part with what he cannot or will not ever make use of. Both the man and woman, in all probability, were guilty; the woman certainly was; and yet she could bear to see her husband sacrificed before her face rather than confess all she knew of the matter, and entreat mercy for him at least, if not for herself. The remainder of these teeth were discovered a long time afterwards, by the particular intervention (as the natives will have it) of the gods. A few years had elapsed, when there being occasion to build and consecrate a house to some god, on the island of Lifuka, it was taken into consideration what valuable article should be deposited beneath its foundation, according to the custom on such occasions. They were about to get ready a large bale of ngatu for this purpose, when the inspired priest of the God declared it to be the wish of the divinity to have some whale’s teeth; and that there were several buried together on the small island just spoken of, in such a particular spot. The place being referred to was dug up, and the teeth were found in a perfect state. This discovery was most firmly and most piously believed to have been made by the sacred interposition of the God himself, who inspired his favored priest with the requisite knowledge to make it.
In the Fiji Islands, whales’ teeth are held, if possible, in still greater estimation, for it would be dangerous there for a man, unless he be a great chief, and even then, if he were a foreigner, to be known to have a whale’s tooth about him; the personal possession of such a valuable property would endanger his life. The axe, or the club, on some unlucky occasion, would deprive him of it for ever, and of his life too.
The whale of which I have been speaking as just found was, for the most part, in a very corrupted state; there were, however, some places where it was not quite so bad; and as whale’s flesh was rather a novelty, (and as novelty is often a provocative of appetite) the lower orders managed to make a meal if it.
In the second edition of his book, and in the “First American Edition” published by Charles Ewer of Boston, Mariner inserts here an account of an occurrence which must have been most distressing to him and which he could not have easily forgotten but chose to leave out in his first edition.
About this time a ship arrived off the northwest coast of Vava’u. She proved to be the Hope, Captain Chase, of New York. When I heard the agreeable intelligence of her arrival, I was with Finau at the small island of Ofu on the eastern coast of Vava’u. I immediately asked the King leave to go on board, who very readily and very kindly gave his permission. Several matapules were with him, one of whom whispered something to the King, which imagining it to be prejudicial to me, I endeavored to distract Finau’s attention by repeatedly thanking him for his liberal conduct toward me, and expressed the grateful sense I entertained of his long and continued friendship and protection, assuring him that I had no other wish to leave the islands but what was prompted by the natural desires of returning to my native country, and the bosom of my friends. In the meantime I very distinctly heard the King say to the matapule, “But why should I keep him?”
Shortly afterwards he ordered a fisherman to get ready instantly a certain canoe and paddle me on board and removed from my mind a load of anxiety. I again and again thanked my benefactor; and taking an affectionate leave of him, got into the canoe and pushed off from the beach. There were three men to paddle, who after four or five hours hard pulling came up along side the vessel. I saw upon the deck, Jeremiah Higgins, John Parish, and Hugh Williams. I hailed the ship; when the captain, or mate, looked over the quarter and said, “We can’t take you, young man. We have more hands than we know what to do with.”
I could hardly believe the evidence of my senses — not take me! – when I saw three of my companions already on board. I began to expostulate. “It is no use your saying anything, we can’t take you.” replied the other.
I then offered to procure whatever provisions the ship might want, but the unfeeling miscreant turned his back and gave no answer. Thus, in one minute, from the elevation of hope, my soul sank into despair; what to say? what to do? I knew not. Besides suffering the acute pain of disappointment, I found myself in a very awkward dilemma. If the natives knew that the captain refused to take me, it would hurt my reputation greatly in their esteem, as they would look upon me to be a low-born tua, without friends or consideration in my own country. During this time the men in the canoe were too much occupied in viewing the appearance of the ship to pay much attention to me. Having at length a little recovered myself by resisting the disagreeable ideas that were upon my mind, I endeavored to assume a cheerful countenance; and informed the men that unfortunately the ship was bound to a country as far from mine as mine was from Tonga. Although the captain wished me to come on board, I had determined to remain at Vava’u until some British ship should arrive With feelings that almost choked my utterance, I now ordered them to return to Ofu. Everybody wondered to see me return. My story however was readily believed; but it seemed strange that I had brought them no presents from on board. “What a number of axes he has got for us,” said one ironically. “What a heap of looking-glasses,” said another. “Beads will now become quite common,” said another; “for Toki is going to give necklaces to all the girls of Vava’u.”
These jokes were exceedingly mortifying, and nothing could be worse timed I endeavored to laugh at their humor; and by way of apology for my neglect, I told them that I was so disappointed at not finding the ship bound for my own country, that I had forgotten to ask for some presents; and besides, I knew she came from a country where they were scarce. Finau endeavored to console me for my disappointment assuring me in the kindest manner that I should go by the next ship bound to my own country. Some women informed me that the matapules had endeavored to persuade Finau to retain me; but the King replied that I and my companions had already suffered enough in having the ship taken from them, and being themselves kept so long from their native country, and that he did not think as the matapules did, that it was the disposition of the Papalangis to return and take revenge.
The leaving behind of a marooned sailor is a very offensive act, and one for which Captain Chase could easily have been severely chastised by the maritime nations of the world. It may be that Mariner did not wish to publicize the Captain’s abandonment of him and thus left this episode out of the first edition, but felt safe to include it in the second. But also, the Hope was an American ship and the captain of the Hope knew that British warships often seized and searched American merchant men and impressed seaman into English naval service. The subsequent war of 1812 between Britain and the United States was in part engendered by the British forcibly taking these seamen from American ships. Curiously, this report was again removed again in the third edition.
Another month now elapsed without any important circumstance occurring, when there arrived from the Fiji Islands four canoes, bringing a Tonga matapule, named Kau Moala, and his retinue, who had been absent from Tonga about fourteen years. A narrative of this person’s adventures at foreign islands I had best form a chapter by itself.