As attention to religious ceremonies forms an important feature in the character of the Tonga people, and as they consider any neglect in this respect would amount to a crime, that the gods would punish with the most severe temporal inflictions, it becomes necessary to give a particular account of them. The punishments, which they consider themselves liable to for disrespect to the gods and neglect of religious rites, are chiefly conspiracies, wars, famine, epidemic diseases, public calamities, and sickness and premature death, as punishments for the offences of individuals. These evils, whenever they happen, are supposed to proceed immediately from the gods, as visitations for their crimes.
There is no public religious rite whatsoever, and scarcely any in private, but of which the ceremony of drinking kava forms an important, or at least a usual part; for which reason, although kava is taken on other occasions several times daily, I shall endeavor to give a full description of its preparation and form of taking, before I proceed to those ceremonies which are more strictly religious.
The root which they term kava, and by which name the plant producing it is also called, belongs to a species of the pepper plant [the Piper methysticum]. It is known by the same name at the Fiji Islands; but at Samoa, (which the Tonga people also visit), at the Society Islands, and the Hawai’i Islands, it is universally called ‘ava. At all these places it is used for the same or similar purposes.
The state in which it is taken is that of infusion. It is drunk every day by chiefs, matapules, and others, as a luxury. The form of preparing and serving it out is the same, whether at a large party or a small one. The greatest order is observed during the whole time, and the rank of persons is particularly attended to.
The following description I shall suppose to be of some grand occasion, either religious or political. At all kava parties, provisions are also shared out; but the habitual kava drinkers seldom eat more than a mouthful, and this they do to prevent the infusion, when drunk in large quantities, from affecting the stomach with nausea; but there are a few who will not even use this precaution. When the party is very large, it is held on a mala’e, for the sake of room; the chief who presides sitting within the eaves of the house. The time of the day is indifferent. Small kava parties are frequently held by torch light; but for religious ceremonies, whether of large or small parties, mostly in the morning. Women of rank never attend large public kava parties.
In the first place, I shall endeavor to describe the form and order in which the company and attendants sit. The chief who presides, and who is always the greatest chief present, sits about two feet, or perhaps three, within the eaves of the house, on the matting which constitutes the flooring, with his face towards the open mala’e, into which the circle on either side extends. Their houses are rather of an oval form, closed at the two ends and open in the front and back, the eaves coming within about four feet of the ground.
On his right and left hand sits a matapule. Both matapules order and arrange the ceremonies in the manner directly to be shown, and whom, for the sake of distinction, I shall call presiding matapules. On the lower hand of either of them sits the next greatest chief present, and another, who may be his equal or a little inferior to him, on the opposite side, near the other matapule. After these, come other chiefs, matapules, and mu’as, sitting more or less according to their rank; for as it frequently happens that the higher chiefs are not the first that come, the places due to their rank are found occupied by persons inferior to them, and rather than disturb the company, they take their seats a little out of the proper order; but for a general rule, the higher chiefs sit towards the top; for it is not so much in the order of sitting that their rank is paid respect to, as in the order of their being served, which is done with the most scrupulous exactness. It is the characteristic of a matapule, to know how to serve out kava and provisions according to the rank of individuals, so as not to give offence. Thus, the ring extends itself on either hand of the presiding chief, but it is in general not an exact circle, the greatest diameter dividing the top from the bottom, which last is rather less curved than the top. About one third of the ring which constitutes the bottom, is generally occupied by the young chiefs and sons of matapules belonging to the chief who presides; and in the middle of these, exactly opposite the chief, sits the man who is to mix and prepare the kava after it is chewed. He is generally a mu’a, tu’a, or cook, though sometimes a chief; at any rate, he must be able to perform his task, which is not an easy one at large parties, with strength, dexterity, and grace. Behind those at the bottom of the ring, sits the body of the people, which, on extraordinary occasions, may consist of three or four thousand individuals, chiefly men; the number of women being comparatively small. If either of the presiding matapules now discovers any person of rank sitting much below the place he ought to occupy, he desires the individual who sits in that place to change situations with him; or if he sees a chief coming after the ring is formed, he orders one of those who is seated, to get up and retire, and he calls out to the chief by his name, saying, “Here is a place for you.” [See illustration of a kava party.]
Before I go further, I must make an important distinction between what I have here called the bottom and the rest of the ring. The latter, beginning with the chief, and advancing onwards on either side, constituting about two thirds of the whole ring, consists of but a single row of individuals, and this, for the sake of distinction, I shall denominate the superior circle; the bottom, which may be considered only the front of the body of the people, I shall name the inferior circle, and the body of the people, who are closely seated together indiscriminately, I shall call the exterior circle. No person, though he be a chief of high rank, can sit in the superior circle at the same time that his father is there, (or any superior relation), even though he be at a considerable distance; and if he be already seated there, and his father comes, he must necessarily retire to the inferior or exterior circle, no matter which, out of respect to his superior relation. In either of the other circles, however, father and son may sit near to each other if they please; on this account, the superior circle is alone considered the true kava party; all the rest, both inferior and exterior, being rather to be considered attendants, and persons looking on, although several of them frequently obtain their share of provisions and kava, according to the quantity that there may be. From this circumstance, it happens, that the inferior ring is generally composed of the sons of chiefs and matapules, who belong to the presiding chief, (forming his kau nofo), and who are perhaps situated in the superior or true ring. From this cause, it also often happens that very great chiefs are seated in the exterior circle; it being thought no particular advantage to be in the inferior, unless for those who wish to be assiduous in serving out the kava, which is an honorable office. During the late King’s life, his son, the present King, usually sat in the inferior or exterior circle, and assisted in chewing the root and serving it out.
The company being thus all arranged, the provisions, if they have not been already brought, are now fetched by the cooks belonging to the chief at the head of the company, and who do this without receiving any orders. If the kava is not already brought, one of the presiding matapules perhaps calls out to one of the cooks in the exterior ring, who immediately rises and advances through the inferior ring towards the matapule, and, sitting down before him, receives orders to go to the chiefs home, and fetch such a root or such a quantity of kava. When he returns he enters the ring as before, through the inferior circle, bearing the kava root in his arms. If the provisions are coming in at the same time, the man with the kava advances at the head, amidst the thanks of the company, and proceeds close up to the chief and sits down, laying the kava root before him. The provisions being placed about eight or ten paces off, on the ground, the cooks who brought them immediately retire to their places in the exterior circle. In the meanwhile, the man who has brought the kava remains seated before the chief till he receives orders from the same presiding matapule, to take the kava root to be broken up and chewed. He accordingly rises and carries the root to the man opposite the chief, who sits in the middle of the inferior circle. He places the root immediately before him, and retires to his seat. The root is now split up with an axe, or any such instrument, into small pieces, by the man who is to mix the kava, and those about him; and being thus sufficiently divided and scraped clean with mussel shells, it is handed out to those sitting in the inferior and exterior circle, to be chewed. There is now heard a universal buzz throughout this part of the company, which forms a curious contrast to the silence that reigned before; several crying out from all quarters, “Mai kava; mai, mai kava; mai ha kava.” (“Give me some kava; give me kava; some kava.”) Each of those who intend to chew it, crying out for some to be handed to them. No one offers to chew the kava but young persons who have good teeth, clean mouths, and have no colds. Women frequently assist. It is astonishing how remarkable dry they preserve the root, while it is undergoing this process of mastication. In about two minutes, each person having chewed his quantity, takes it out of his mouth with his hand, and puts it on a piece of plantain or banana leaf, or sometimes he raises the leaf to his mouth, and puts it off his tongue in the form of a ball, of tolerable consistence, (particularly if it is dry kava root). The different portions of kava being now all chewed, which is known by the silence that ensues, nobody calling for any, someone takes the wooden bowl from the exterior circle, and places it on the ground before the man who is to make the infusion. In the meanwhile, each person who sits at any distance from the inferior circle, passes on his portion of chewed root, so that it is conveyed from one to another till it is received by three or four persons, who are actively engaged in the front of the inferior circle, going from one side to the other collecting it, and depositing it in the wooden bowl. The bowl used at a large party is about three feet in diameter, and about one foot in depth in the centre.
The kava is not, however, thrown in promiscuously, but in such a way, that each portion is distinct and separate from the rest, till at length, the whole inside of the vessel becomes thickly studded, beginning at the bottom and going up on every side towards the edges. This is done that a judgment may afterwards be formed of the quantity of beverage that it will make. As each portion is disengaged from its leaf, the leaf is thrown any where on the ground.
The kava being thus deposited in the bowl, those persons who had been busy collecting it, retire to their places and sit down. The man before whom the bowl is placed, now tilts it up a little towards the chief that he may see the quantity of its contents, saying, “Ko e kava eni kuo ma!” (“This is the kava chewed.”)
If the chief (having consulted the matapule), thinks there is not enough, he says, “Ufi’ufi, pea ha’u ha tangata.” (“Cover it over, and let there come a man here.”); the bowl is then covered over with a plantain or banana leaf, and a man goes to the same presiding matapule to receive more kava root, to be chewed as before; but if it is thought there is a sufficiency, he says, “Palu.” (“Mix.”). The two men, who sit one on each side of him who are to prepare the kava, now come forward a little, and making a half turn, sit opposite to each other, the bowl being between them. One of these fans off the flies with a large leaf, while the other sits ready to pour in the water from coconut shells, one at a time. These shells are whole, having merely two small holes at the top. Large ones are always chosen for this purpose. The nuts destined for this use are filled with salt water, and buried in the sand until the inside becomes decayed or rather deliquescent, when it is poured out, and the inside well washed.
Before this is done, however, the man who is about to mix, having first rinsed his hands with a little of the water, kneads together (the matapule having said “palu”), the chewed root, gathering it up from all sides of the bowl and compressing it together; upon this, the matapule says, “Lilingi e vai” (“Pour in the water”), and the man on one side of the bowl continues pouring, fresh shells being handed to him, until the matapule thinks there is sufficient, which he announces by saying, “Ma’u e vai.” (“Stop the water.”) He now discontinues pouring, and takes up a leaf to assist the other in fanning. The matapule now says, “Palu ke tatau, pea fakama’u.” (“Mix it every where equally, and make it firm.”) i.e. bring the dregs together in a body.
Things being thus far prepared, the matapule says, “‘Ai e fau.” (“Put in the fau.”) The fau is the bark of a tree stripped into small fibres, and has very much the appearance of the willow shavings that are used in England to decorate-fireplaces in the summer time.
A large quantity of this fibrous substance, sufficient to cover the whole surface of the infusion, is now put in by one of those who sit by the side of the bowl, and it floats upon the surface. The man, who manages the bowl, now begins his difficult operation. In the first place, he extends his left hand to the farther side of the bowl, with the fingers pointing downwards, and the palm towards himself; he sinks that hand carefully down the side of the bowl, carrying with it the edge of the fau; at the same time his right hand is performing a similar operation at the side next to him, the fingers pointing downwards, and the palm presenting outwards. He does this slowly, from side to side, gradually descending deeper and deeper, till his fingers meet each other at the bottom, so that nearly the whole of the fibres of the root are by these means enclosed in the fau, forming as it were a roll of above two feet in length, lying along the bottom from side to side, the edges of the fau meeting each other underneath. He now carefully rolls it over, so that the edges overlapping each other, or rather intermingling, come uppermost. He next doubles in the two ends, and rolls it carefully over again, endeavoring to reduce it to a narrower and firmer compass. He now brings it cautiously out of the fluid, taking firm hold of it by the two ends, one in each hand (the back of the hands being upwards), and raising it breast high, with his arms considerably extended, he brings his right hand towards his breast, moving it gradually onwards, and while his left hand is coming round towards his right shoulder, his right hand partially twisting the fau, lays the end which it holds upon the left elbow, so that the fau lies thus extended upon that arm, one end being still grasped by the left hand. The right hand being now at liberty, is brought under the left fore arm (which still remains in the same situation), and carried outwardly towards the left elbow, that it may again seize in that situation the end of the fau. The right hand then describes a bold curve outwardly from the chest, while the left comes across the chest, describing a curve nearer to him, and in the opposite direction, till at length the left hand is extended from him, and the right approaches to the left shoulder, gradually twisting the fau by the turn and flexures principally of that wrist. This double motion is then retraced, but in such a way (the left wrist now principally acting), that the fau, instead of being untwisted, is still more twisted, and is at length again placed upon the left arm, while he takes a new and less constrained hold. Thus the hands and arms perform a variety of curves of the most graceful description. The muscles both of the arms and chest are seen rising as they are called into action, displaying what would be a fine and uncommon subject of study for the painter, for no combinations of animal action can develope the swell and play of the muscles with more grace or with better effect. The degree of strength which he exerts when there is a large quantity is very great, and the dexterity with which he accomplishes the whole never fails to excite the attention and admiration of all present. Every tongue is mute, and every eye is upon him, watching each motion of his arms, as they describe the various curvilinear turns essential to the success of the operation. Sometimes the fibres of the fau are heard to crack with the increasing tension, yet the mass is seen whole and entire, becoming more thin as it becomes more twisted, while the infusion drains from it in a regularly decreasing quantity, till at length it denies a single drop. He now gives it to a person on his left side, and receives fresh fau from another in attendance on his right, and begins the operation anew, with a view to collect what before might have escaped him; and so on, even a third time, till no dregs are left, save what are so fine and so equally diffused through the whole liquid as not to be thus separated.
No man undertakes to perform this operation at a large party but who has been well practiced on smaller occasions. It is considered a great accomplishment, even worthy of a chief; but a failure on such an occasion would look very bad. I, however, never witnessed one. The kava dregs which have been thus put aside are afterwards taken away by the cooks, and chewed over again to make fresh infusion for themselves. The disgusted reader will here perhaps call to mind the assertion we have formerly made, that no nation can excel the Tonga people in personal cleanliness, and will regret that they are not equally clean in their food. If this objection were made to a native, he would say, “It is not indeed very cleanly, for we would not eat a piece of yam which another had bitten; but chewing the kava is an ancient practice, and we think nothing of it. What,” he will perhaps add, “can be more filthy and disgusting than the Papalangi practice of drinking the milk of a beast, and giving it to your children for food?” Every country has its customs.
During the above operation, various people in the exterior circle are employed making kava cups of the unexpanded leaf of the banana tree, which is cut into lengths of about nine inches, each piece being then unfolded is nearly square; the two ends are next plaited up in a particular manner, and tied with a fibre of the stem of the leaf, forming a very elegant cup, not unworthy of imitation. These leaves are provided beforehand, as well as the water, the bowl, etc. by the cooks. Sometimes it happens that there is not water enough, in which case off starts someone from the exterior circle to fetch more, running as if it were for his life, and twenty more after him, each anxious to show his readiness in arriving first with the water. In a short time, if they are not returned, twenty or thirty more will rush off with equal swiftness. Presently after they are seen coming back, forty or fifty in number, at full speed, with three or four coconut shells of water; or if anything else is wanted, it is fetched in the same prompt way.
In the meanwhile, also, the fono, or provisions to be eaten with the kava, is shared out. This generally consists of yams, ripe bananas, or plantains, in sufficient quantity that each in the superior circle may have a small portion to eat after his dish of kava. The matapule calls out for somebody to come and divide the fono. A couple generally advance forward and proceed to make the division. A large portion is first separated, and presented to the presiding chief, by laying it before him. This being done, the matapule orders the remainder to be divided equally between the two sides, left and right, of the superior circle; each person has consequently a portion presented to him in the order in which he sits. This operation takes up about three or four minutes, and is performed quietly, when the man at the bowl begins to wring out the kava.
The infusion of kava being now strained, the performance of which generally occupies about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes, the man at the bowl calls out, “Kuo ma’a e kava ni.” (“The kava is clear.”)
The matapule replies, “Fakatau” (“Squeeze out”), alluding to the peculiar operation of filling the cups. Two or three from the inferior or exterior circle now come forward and sit down near the bowl, bringing with them and placing on the ground several of the cups. One then rises and holds with both hands a cup to be filled, standing a little on one side, and holding the cup over the middle of the bowl, so that his body does not obstruct the view of those at the top of the superior circle. The man who manages the bowl fills the cup by dipping in a portions of fau rolled together, and which, when replete with the liquid, he holds over the cup, compressing it so that the infusion falls into it, to the quantity of about the third of a pint. The one who has the cup now turns and stands a little on one side, with his face towards the chief. At the same time one of those who have been described, sitting by the side of the bowl and employed fanning it, cries out with a loud voice, “Kava kuo heka.” (“The kava is deposited.”) That is, in the cup.
The matapule replies, “Ange ma’a” (“Give it to …”), naming the party who is to have it; who, hearing his name announced, claps the hollow part of his hands together twice (unless it be the presiding chief), to signify where about he is seated. The cup-bearer then advances and presents it standing, unless it be to a great chief at Tu’i Tonga’s kava party, when he presents it sitting.
I must now describe the order in which the different individuals in the company are served, which is a most important part of the ceremony, and requires all the attention of the presiding matapule. It must be noticed as a general rule, that the chief at the head of the circle receives either the first or third cup; the third cup, however, is properly his due. The first, according to old established custom, the matapule orders to be given to his fellow matapule on the other side of the chief, unless there be a chief or matapule from another island in company; it is then given to him, as being a visitor. If there be a person in the circle who has made a present of the kava, the first cup is given in compliment to him. But supposing that the kava was not a present, and there are two or more visitors in company of about equal rank, and the matapule is in doubt which of them ought to have it, to avoid giving offence he orders it to be given to the presiding chief; and this is the only case in which the chief at the head of the company gets the first cup; the other matapule then receives the second, the third falls to the lot of the chief next in rank to the president, and so on, without farther hesitation, to everyone according to his rank. So that the president either has the first or third cup, and the matapule who is not giving directions either has the first or second cup. To render this important piece of Tonga ceremony more clear, I shall suppose the several possible instances, and state the order of the service in each. The person whom I here call the matapule is one of those two sitting by the side of the president, and who is not actually giving directions; for one matapule only regulates the serving out of each bowl; and if the bowl is filled a second time, the other matapule directs the ceremonies, and so on alternately.
1st. Where the kava is a present, and the giver is in company, the order is thus: the giver; the matapule; the president.
2nd. The kava not being a present, or the giver not in company, but there being a visitor, thus: the visitor; the matapule; the president.
3rd. There being two or more visitors of nearly equal rank, and the master of the ceremonies not knowing how to choose without giving offence, thus: the president; the matapule; the chief next below the president in rank.
4th. There being no visitor present, thus: the matapule; the chief next in rank to the president; the president.
Hence it will appear that the giver of the kava, in those instances where he is a present, has the first cup, in preference to anybody else; at least this is generally the case, unless there be a visitor present, who is evidently superior in rank to him. On such an occasion, the visitor would be preferred to the giver, and the matapule would have the second, the president the third, and the giver would not obtain any till it came in the usual way to his turn according to his rank. If it be doubtful whether the giver or the visitor ought to have the preference, then, to avoid giving offence, the president gets it. So that in all cases the principal difficulty is in the disposal of the first three cups; all the remainder being served out according to rank. If in the course of serving it out, there be two persons of equal rank, the one sitting nearest the chief will be supplied first.
At large kava parties very few, in proportion to the immense multitude present, get served with this infusion; but there must always be enough for the superior circle, and for their relations, who may be either in the inferior or exterior; which latter, who, for reasons before given, do not sit in the upper circle, are served nevertheless in the order of their rank, or nearly so. One thing more is to be observed; namely when a cup of kava is announced to be given to a person whose superior relation is present, that superior relation has a right to counter-order it, which he does by calling out, “Give it to …” mentioning the name of some individual whom he chooses should have it in preference to his inferior relation; and this is often done.
When the bowl is emptied, if the chief thinks proper, he orders another to be got ready; or if any person in company sends away for some kava root, to make a present of it to the chief, a fresh quantity must be prepared; but the president himself often sends away for a second, a third, and even a fourth supply of kava root. Each bowl must be served round as long as it will last. When the individuals of the superior circle, and the persons related to them, are served, if any remains, it is given out to others in the inferior and exterior circles; no person receiving two cups out of the same bowl. When a second bowl is filled, it is served out the same as the first, i.e. not beginning where the first left off, but commencing and going on with the same individuals as if it were the first bowl; the third in the like manner, etc. Every bowl is provided with a fresh quantity of fono, or victuals to be eaten with the kava, and which are shared out in the same way as before. These generally consist of yams, bananas, or plantains, but sometimes a baked pig is brought, in which case the liver and a yam is the portion presented to the chief; if fowls are brought, the skin of the throat, and the rump, are the president’s share. If, before the conclusion, anyone in the superior circle wishes to leave, he says to the chief, “Ikai te u ma’u kava,” (“I cannot provide kava”); and, with this apology, he leaves. Or, if he has actually provided kava, he has only to state some reason for his leaving the company, such as going to another island, or to superintend some work.
It has been noticed, that there are two matapules, one on each side of the president, who direct the ceremonies; but it must be mentioned, that only one of them regulates the preparation and sharing out of each bowl; i.e. one regulates the first bowl, and the other the second, and so on alternately. They generally sit close to the chief, except when Tu’i Tonga presides, and then there is an intervening space, between him and them, of about six feet, or rather more. No chief comes to an inferior chief’s kava party, or, if any extraordinary circumstance was to make this necessary, the inferior would be obliged to retire to his own exterior circle, and the superior visitor would preside. The greatest chief present must always preside, unless there be an inspired priest, then he sits at the head of the circle, and the greatest chief in company, who would otherwise have that honorable situation, now retires, with other chiefs, to the exterior circle, not out of respect to the priest, who may be only a mu’a, but out of veneration to the god supposed to exist within him; so that the superior circle, in such a case, consists principally of matapules and mu’as; for chiefs may be looked upon as distant relations to the gods, and no person may sit in the upper circle along with his superior relation; besides it is an act of humility demonstrating great respect. When a priest presides, which is the case at all religious ceremonies, except where they are consulting a god who has no priest, the latter always has the first cup; the presiding matapule, not actually officiating, has the second; the third, fourth, fifth, and perhaps sixth cups, are given to the next highest persons in the superior circle; and then the chiefs who have retired to the exterior circle are, out of respect, helped; but this rests at the option of the officiating matapule; afterwards the remainder of the superior circle are served.
When a god has no priest, as Taliai Tupou for instance, no person actually presides at the head of his kava circle, the place being left apparently vacant, but which, it is supposed, the god invisibly occupies. On such occasions the kava party is always held before the house consecrated to the god. They go through the usual form of words, as if the first cup was actually filled and presented to the god. Thus, before any cup is filled, the man by the side of the bowl says, “Kava kuo heka.” (“The kava is in the cup.”)
The matapule answers, “Angi ma’a ho ‘Eiki” (“Give it to our God”); but this is mere form, for there is no cup filled for the God.
At smaller kava parties the forms and words of ceremony are precisely the same; but when a priest does not preside, familiar conversation, and even joke and merriment, are indulged in. On all occasions every individual pays the greatest attention to his dress, that it be decorous and well tied on, that is, with neatness.
I have been particular in the description of the ceremony of preparing and drinking this infusion, because it sets in so strong a light the manners and customs of the people, and because it so frequently accompanies almost every kind of religious ceremony. It is not pretended, however, that drinking kava is essential to every religious ceremony, or to most of them, but that it is the custom to take it generally on such occasions. These religious ceremonies I shall now describe, and shall take them nearly in the order in which, by the natives, they are considered of most importance, or most sacred:
‘Inasi [The harvest festival.]
Fakalahi
Kava faka’eki
Tautau
No’okia [Ceremonial strangling]
Tutu’u-nima [Cutting off a portion of the little finger]
Putu [Funeral rites]
Langi
Taboo
Fota [Massage]
Moemoe
Tuku kava
Although the ceremony of ‘Inasi was entirely abrogated by Finau just before I left Vava’u, I place it first in rank, because it always used to be considered of the utmost importance before it was done away with; besides which, it was a ceremony which affected the property of every individual in Vava’u, and all the Ha’apai islands, and formerly in the island of Tongatapu also.
‘Inasi. This word means, literally, a share or portion of anything that is to be or has been distributed out. In the sense here mentioned it means that portion of the fruits of the earth, and other eatables, which is offered to the gods in the person of the divine chief Tu’i Tonga, which allotment is made once a year, just before the yams in general are arrived at a state of maturity; those which are used in this ceremony being of a kind which admit of being planted sooner than others, and, consequently, they are the first fruits of the yam season. The object of this offering is to insure the protection of the gods, that their favor may be extended to the welfare of the nation generally, and in particular to the productions of the earth, of which yams are the most important.
The time for planting most kinds of yams is about the latter end of July, but the species called kahohaho, which is always used in ceremony, is put in the ground about a month before, when, on each plantation, there is a small piece of land chosen and fenced in, for the purpose of growing a couple of yams of the above description. As soon as they have arrived at a state of maturity, the Hau sends a messenger to Tu’i Tonga, stating that the yams for the ‘Inasi are fit to be taken up, and requesting that he would appoint a day for the ceremony. He generally fixes on the tenth day afterwards, reckoning the following day for the first. There are no particular preparations made till the day before the ceremony. At night, however, the sound of the conch is heard occasionally in different parts of the islands, and as the day of the ceremony approaches it becomes more frequent, so that the people of almost every plantation sound the conch three or four times, which, breaking in upon the silence of the night, has a pleasing effect, particularly at Vava’u, where the number of woods and hills send back repeated echoes, adding greatly to the effect. The day before the ceremony the yams are dug up, and ornamented with a kind of ribbons prepared from the inner membrane of the leaf of a species of pandanus, and died red; when thus prepared, it is called melekula, and is wrapped round the yam, beginning at one end, and running round spirally to the other, when it is brought back in the opposite direction, the turns crossing each other in a very neat manner.
As the ceremony is always performed at the island where Tu’i Tonga chooses to reside, the distant islands must make these preparations two or three days beforehand, that the yams, etc. may be sent in time to Vava’u, where we will suppose the affair is to take place. The ninth day then is employed in preparing and collecting the yams and other provisions, such as fish, kava root, and mahoa’a [the arrowroot] and getting ready mats, ngatu, and bundles of melekula. The yams only are to be carried in the procession about to be described.
The pandanus is first soaked for six or eight hours in lime water, and afterwards in an infusion of the root of the nonu, where it remains for about a week; it is afterwards exposed to the sun, and becomes of a bright red. The root of the nonu is of a dark bright yellow, which, upon the action of lime water, becomes red.
The sun has scarcely set when the sound of the conch begins again to echo through the island, increasing as the night advances. At the mu’a, and all the plantations, the voices of men and women are heard singing, “Nofo ‘oua te ke ngaue, ‘oua ngaue.” (“Rest thou, doing no work; thou shalt not work.”) This increases till midnight, men generally singing the first part of the sentence, and the women the last, to produce a more pleasing effect. It then subsides for three or four hours, and again increases as the sun rises. Nobody, however, is seen stirring out in the public roads till about eight o’clock, when the people from all quarters of the island are seen advancing towards the mu’a, and canoes from all the other islands are landing their men; so that all the inhabitants of Tonga seem approaching by sea and land, singing and sounding the conch. Not only no work may be done at the time of the ‘Inasi, but nobody may appear abroad, unless for the purposes of the ceremony. [This custom of the ancient ceremony of the ‘Inasi became the customary way of celebrating Sundays when the Tongans became Christian and adopted the no-work ethic on Sundays of the missionaries.]
At the mu’a itself the universal bustle of preparation is seen and heard; and the different processions entering from various quarters, of men and women, all dressed up in new ngatus, ornamented with red ribbons and wreaths of flowers, and the men armed with spears and clubs, betoken the importance of the ceremony about to be performed. Each party brings in its yams in a basket, which is carried in the arms with great care, by the principal vassal of the chief to whom the plantation may belong. The baskets are deposited on the mala’e (in the mu’a), and some of the men begin to employ themselves in slinging the yams, each upon the centre of a pole about eight or nine feet long, and four inches diameter. The proceedings are regulated by an attending matapule. The yams being all slung, each pole is carried by two men upon their shoulders, one walking before the other, and the yam hanging between them, ornamented with red ribbons. The procession begins to move towards the grave of the last Tu’i Tonga (which is generally in the neighbourhood, or the grave of one of his family will do), the men advancing in a single line, every two bearing a yam, with a slow and measured pace, sinking at every step, as if their burden was of immense weight, and as if meaning to express, “How bountiful are the gods, to give us so good a harvest, and provide us with yams so large and heavy!”
In the meantime the chiefs and matapules are seated in a semicircle before the grave, with their heads bowed down, and their hands clasped before them. As the procession now approaches, two boys, walking abreast of each other, precede it at a little distance, blowing conchs; then come the men, bearing the yams, about seventy or eighty in number, i.e. about a hundred and sixty men in a single line, as close to each other as the length of the pole will allow; after them come a single line of men, about forty in number, singing aloud, as before stated, “Nofo ‘oua, etc.” These are followed up by two other boys blowing conchs. They proceed between the grave and the chiefs, describing there a large circle two or three times, the conchs blowing and men singing. The yams are then deposited, one after the other (still on the poles), before the grave, and the men sit down by the side of them, so that the chiefs and matapules are in the rear. One of the matapules of Tu’i Tonga now rises, advances, and again seats himself before the grave, a little in advance of the men. Here he addresses the gods generally, and afterwards particularly, mentioning the late Tu’i Tonga, and the names of several others. He returns thanks for their divine bounty in favoring the land with the prospect of so good a harvest, and prays that their beneficence may be continued in future. This prayer he makes in the names of several chiefs present, whom he announces aloud. This being done, he arises and retires to his former place. The men now also rise and resume their loads in the same order, and, after having paraded round two or three times before the grave, return back to the mala’e the same way they came, singing and blowing the conchs as before. The chiefs and matapules, a short time afterwards, rise and follow them to the same place, where the yams are now again deposited, and loosened from the poles, still, however, retaining their ornaments. The company seat themselves in a large circle, at which Tu’i Tonga presides; the King, and other great chiefs, retiring behind among the mass of the people. The other articles that form part of the ‘Inasi are next brought forward; these are dried fish, mahoa’a, mats, ngatu, and bundles of melekula which, together with the yams (although not cooked), are shared out by one of the matapules of Tu’i Tonga. First, there is a considerable share (about one fourth), allotted to the gods, which the priests appropriate, and their servants immediately take away. About one half is allotted to the King, which his servants, without farther orders, take away to his house, and the remainder is taken away by Tu’i Tonga’s servants. It may seem strange that the latter has a smaller share than the King, but then he has not a quarter the number of dependants to divide it among.
The materials of the ‘Inasi being removed, the company forms a regular kava party. Some kava root is brought and prepared, and a large quantity of dressed victuals, perhaps a hundred and fifty baskets full; a small portion of which is shared out to be eaten with the kava. While the infusion is preparing, a matapule makes a speech to the people, stating, that as they have performed this important ceremony, the gods will protect them, and grant them long lives, provided they continue to pay due attention to religious ceremonies, and to pay respect to the chiefs. When the kava is finished, the circle separates, and the provisions are shared out to each chief according to his rank. The day concludes with wrestling, boxing, etc. after which night dances commence. When these are ended, the people retire home, perfectly assured of the protection of the gods.
At this ceremony, the quantity of provisions shared out is incredible; the people, therefore, look upon it as a very heavy tribute, though in fact the owners of the plantations (chiefs, matapules, etc.) are at the expense of it; yet as there is much more provided than what is eaten, it helps to increase the scarcity if the season should not be abundant. It is so much the custom at Tonga to make liberal and profuse presents, that the people generally either feast or starve. Sometimes it happens that several great feasts are given nearly about the same time; as for instance, the occasion of the ‘Inasi; the arrival of some chief from a distant island, after a long absence; the marriage or death of some great chief, as of Tu’i Tonga himself, etc. These feasts threaten a scarcity; to prevent which, a taboo or prohibition is put upon several kinds of food, that they may not be eaten for a certain length of time, at the termination of which they perform the following ceremony, which takes off the taboo. A famine or war may also occasion a necessity for this taboo to be imposed.
Fakalahi. i.e. to make all at large or free again; or to take off a restriction. As the mode of performing this ceremony has already been described, and the particular objects of it mentioned, nothing farther need now be said upon the subject, except that it is generally concluded with a kava party.
Kava faka ‘eiki. This consists in a kava party, where an inspired priest sits at the head. The circumstances of inspiration I have already related, and the form of serving out the kava when a priest presides. The phrase “kava faka ‘eiki” means literally, “a god-like kava.” Laying a small piece of kava root before the grave of a chief or consecrated house, out of respect to a god, or to a deceased relation, is called tuku kava, and will be mentioned in its proper order.
Tautau is an offering of yams, coconuts, and other vegetable productions to ‘Alo’alo (the god of weather) in particular, and to all the gods in general, for the purpose of ensuring a continuation of favorable weather, and consequent fertility. This ceremony is first performed at the time when the yams are approaching maturity, in the early part of November, and is repeated every ten days for seven or eight times. On the day appointed by the priest of ‘Alo’alo, every plantation on the three parts of the island, namely the hakake, mu’a, and hihifo divisions, provide a certain quantity of yams, coconuts, sugar-canes, bananas, plantains. Hakake is the north end of any island; Hihifo the south end; the Mu’a part of the island being the centre. [Hakake is not the north end of the island; it is in the direction of the sun rise; the eastern part of the island. Hihifo is not the south, but in the direction of the sun set, the western part. The Mu’a, as Mariner says, is often in the central part of the island.] All these provisions are brought to the mala’e, tied upon sticks, so that each stick, when held horizontally, has about eight small yams hanging from it at equal distance; or a couple of bunches of plantains or bananas, etc. The sugar canes are tied in bundles, three or four in each. These things being brought are disposed in three piles, one erected by the people of Hakake, with their offerings, another by the people of Hihifo with theirs, and the third by those of the Mu’a. The piles are placed on one side of the mala’e upright, the ends of the sticks next the ground, diverging from each other, and the upper ends meeting together; while others are placed across them on the top. Wrestling and boxing matches now commence, which generally last about three hours, and being ended, a deputation of nine or ten men from the priest of ‘Alo’alo, all dressed in mats, with green leaves round their necks, arrive with a female child, to represent the wife of ‘Alo’alo, and seat themselves before the three piles, forming a single line, with a large drum (kept there for the purpose) immediately in front of them. The deputation now offer up a prayer to ‘Alo’alo and the other gods, petitioning them to continue their bounty, and make the land fruitful, etc. This being done, they give orders in regard to sharing out the provisions; one pile being appropriated to ‘Alo’alo and the other gods, the other two being shared out to different principal chiefs, and sent home to their houses, the pile for the gods remaining still in its place. They then begin another short prayer to the same purpose, at the close of which they make a signal by beating upon the drum, when all that choose make a sudden dash at the pile appropriated to the gods, and each man secures as much as he can, to the great amusement of all the spectators, though many of the scramblers come off with wounded heads, and sometimes with fractured limbs, the broken sticks being thrown about in every direction. All the women now get out of the way, while the men stand up and commence a general pugilistic contest, one half of the island against the other half. This combat is termed toutakao and forms an essential part of this ceremony, but it is now and then practiced at other ceremonies. At these general battles, the highest chiefs engage as well as the lowest tu’as, and anyone of the latter may, if he pleases, attack the King, and knock him down if he can, or even Tu’i Tonga, without any reserve, and maul him unmercifully, without the least danger of giving offence. These combats are sometimes very obstinately kept up, and when neither party seems likely to yield the ground, after two or three hours dispute, the King orders them to desist. The most perfect good humor constantly prevails on these occasions; if a man is knocked down, he rises with a smile; if his arm is broken, he retires to get it set, without seeming to think anything of it. On the contrary, to be angry, or to fight with the least animosity, would be considered the mark of a very weak mind. After the battle, those who have contended with superior chiefs, or think they may have touched superior chiefs, perform the ceremony of moe-moe, to a chief at least as high in rank as any they may have come in contact with.
Every tenth day, as before stated, these ceremonies are repeated for seven or eight successive times. The child that has been mentioned as representing the wife of ‘Alo’alo is generally chosen from among the female chiefs of the higher ranks, and is about eight or ten years old. During the eighty days of this ceremony, she resides at the consecrated house of ‘Alo’alo, where, the day before the first ceremony, a kava party is held, at which she presides, as well as at a feast which follows. She has nothing to do on the actual days of the ceremony, except to come with the deputation and sit down with them.
No’okia. or the ceremony of strangling children, as sacrifices to the gods, for the recovery of a sick relation. The blackest cloud that obscures the understanding of the Tonga people is surely that which prevents them seeing the unnatural cruelty and absurdity of this practice. I have, however, the most sanguine hopes that “Moloch — horrid king,” will not much longer hold his reign in these islands.
“Moloch” in the Old Testament was a god of the Ammonites and Phoenicians to whom children were sacrificed by burning. The custom of human sacrifice to the gods has appeared in many cultures around the world.
It is not, I verily believe, from a want of natural feeling, but from an excessive veneration and fear of the gods, created in an era of great superstition, and now upheld by old practice, that the natives perform these horrible rites. All the by-standers behold the innocent victim with feelings of the greatest pity; but it is proper, they think, to sacrifice a child who is at present of no use to society, and perhaps may not otherwise live to be, with the hope of recovering a sick chief, whom all esteem, and whom all think it a most important duty to respect, defend, and preserve, that his life may be of advantage to the country.
The ceremony of No’okia (or strangling), used to be performed upon the chief widow of Tu’i Tonga, on the day of her husband’s burial, that she might be interred with him. Two Tu’i Tongas were buried during my time; one on first arrival, and the other, (i.e. the last), a few months before I came away. The first of these two, however, had no chief wife, i.e. he had no wife at all, or else none that was of so high a rank as to take the charge of his household, and be the mistress over the others; consequently at his death no such ceremony was performed. The last Tu’i Tonga’s wife (the daughter of the late King, and sister of the present) was not subjected to this inhuman rite — thanks to the good sense of the late and present King. When old Finau was living, he used to say, that if Tu’i Tonga died before his wife, she should not be strangled. “What,” said he, “is the use of destroying a young and beautiful woman? Who is there dares say that the gods are merciless and cruel? My daughter shall not be strangled!”
Tu’i Tonga did not die till the present King came into power, and we have already seen that he not only did not allow his sister to be strangled, but he also did not permit another Tu’i Tonga to succeed. In consequence, it was whispered about, that some great misfortune would happen to the country. At the Fiji Islands, the principal wife of every chief, or at least of every considerable chief, undergoes this ceremony on the death of her husband.
Tutu’u-nima. Or cutting off a portion of the little finger, as a sacrifice to the gods, for the recovery of a superior sick relation. This is very commonly done; so that there is scarcely a person living at the Tonga Islands but who has lost one or both, or a considerable portion of both little fingers. Those who can have but few superior relations, such as those near akin to Tu’i Tonga, or the King, or Viasi, have some chance of escaping, if their relations are tolerably healthy. It does not appear that the operation is painful. I witnessed more than one little child quarrelling for the honor (or rather out of bravado), of having it done. The finger is laid flat upon a block of wood. A knife, axe, or sharp stone is placed with the edge upon the line of proposed separation; and a powerful blow being given with a mallet or large stone, the operation is finished. From the nature and violence of the action, the wound seldom bleeds much. The stump is then held in the smoke and steam arising from the combustion of fresh plucked grass. This stops any flow of blood. The wound is not washed for two days; afterwards it is kept clean, and heals in about two or three weeks, without any application whatever. One joint is generally taken off, but some will have a smaller portion, to admit of the operation being performed several times on the same finger, in case a man has many superior relations.
Putu, or funeral ceremonies. For a partial description of these, reference may be made to the burial of Tupouniua for a particular one, as it regards the burial of a king, to that of Finau. What remains, therefore, principally to be described, are the peculiarities attending the burial of Tu’i Tonga. In the first place, however, I shall give the names of the different parts of the ceremony of burials in general; the modes of all which have been already related in the instance last referred to. The names are these:
Fala. Or procuring small stones, (white and black), and sand, to cover the grave.
Tutu. Or burning the body in spots, with lighted rolls of tapa.
Lafa. Or burning the arm in about six places, each in form of five or six concentric circles.
Tuki. Beating the cheeks, and rubbing off the cuticle, with coconut husk, or some sort of plait, wound round the hand.
Foa’ulu. Wounding the head, and cutting the flesh in various parts, with knives, shells, clubs, spears, etc. in honor of the deceased, and as a testimony of respect for his memory and fidelity to his family.
All these have been accurately described in the ceremony of burying the late King. There is one remark, nevertheless, to be made in respect to the four last, particularly Foa’ulu; which appears, however inhuman, to be a very ancient and long established custom in the history of mankind. On turning to Leviticus, Chap. xx. verse 28, we find this command, “Ye shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor print any marks upon you.”
The above-mentioned five ceremonies are common at all burials, and are conducted with more or less pomp, according to the rank of the individual deceased. In saying all burials, however, I must make one exception, namely that of Tu’i Tonga, on which occasion the ceremony of Foa’ulu is never performed; but the reason of this I was never able to learn. At the funeral of the greatest chiefs, in general, this outrage is usually exercised with the utmost readiness and enthusiasm; but at that of Tu’i Tonga, who is far higher than any other, it is altogether omitted. The natives have no law for this, but custom.
Langi, or the ceremony of burying Tu’i Tonga. This word is also applied to signify the grave of this chief during the whole of the funeral ceremonies. It literally means the sky; but there appears no connection between these different meanings. When Tu’i Tonga is ill, the intercessions with the gods for his recovery are the same, though perhaps in a greater degree, as are made on the illness of other high chiefs. Prayers are offered up; priests are inspired; some children have their little fingers sacrificed; others are strangled, etc. When he is dead, his body is washed with oil and water, as usual; his widows come to mourn over him, etc.; and, according to the former custom, his chief widow should be strangled, but whether on the day of his death or of his burial I do not know. His fa’itoka, or burial-place, is of the same form as that of other chiefs. The day after his death (which is the day of his burial), every individual at every island, man, woman, and child, has his head closely shaved, This is a peculiarity, and so is the custom of depositing some of his most valuable property along with the body in the grave, such as beads, whales’ teeth, fine Samoa mats, etc.; so that his family burying-place, at the island of Tongatapu, where all his ancestors have been buried, must have become very rich; for no native would dare to commit the sacrilege of theft. The ceremony of interment is exactly the same as that of the king. The mourning is also the same, namely old ragged mats, with leaves of the ifi tree round the neck. For Tu’i Tonga the time of mourning is extended to four months; the mats being generally left off at the end of nearly three, while the leaves are still retained for another month. The taboo, for touching his body, or anything that he had on when he died, extends to at least ten months, and for his nearest relations fifteen months. Every man neglects to shave his beard for at least one month; and during that time merely oils his body at night, but not his head. The female mourners remain within the fa’itoka about two months, night and day, only retiring occasionally to the neighboring temporary houses, to eat, etc. It will be seen, that what we have already related of these ceremonies differ in many respects, some in kind, and all in degree, from those attending the burial of the king; but those we are about to describe are altogether peculiar to Tu’i Tonga’s funeral.
In the afternoon of the day of burial, the body being already in the fa’itoka, almost every man, woman, and child, provided with a toume (a part of the coconut tree from which the torches are made), and a piece of polata (part of the stem of the banana tree), sit down at about eight yards from the grave. In the course of an hour the multitude collects, probably to above three thousand, all clothed in old mats, etc. and seated as just stated. One of the female mourners now comes out of the fa’itoka, and advances in front, where she calls out to the people, saying, “Mou tu’u pea ofi mai.” (“Arise ye, and approach.”) Whereupon the people get up, and advancing about forty yards, again sit down. Two men behind the grave now begin to blow conch shells; and six others, with large lighted torches, about six feet high, and six inches thick, (made of bundles of toumes), next advance forward from behind the fa’itoka, descend the mount, and walk round one after another several times, between the fa’itoka and the people waving their flaming torches in the air; they then begin to ascend the mount, at which moment all the people rise up together, and suddenly snap their polatas, nearly at the same time, producing a considerable crash. They then follow the men with the torches, in a single line, ascending the mount, and walking round the fa’itoka, as they pass the back of which the first six men deposit on the ground their extinguished torches, and the rest their toumes and polatas, the mourners within thanking them for providing these things, Thus they proceed round, and return to their places and sit down. The matapule, who has the direction of the ceremonies, now advances in front of the people, and orders them to divide themselves in parties, according to their districts; which being done, he gives to one party the business of clearing away the bushes, grass, etc. so that the whole neighbourhood of the fa’itoka becomes perfectly clear. This being done, all the people return to their respective temporary houses.
Soon after dark, certain persons stationed at the grave begin again to sound the conchs, while others chant partly in an unknown language, and partly in Samoan, a sort of song, or rather a piece of recitative.
The natives can give no account of what this language is, nor how they originally came to learn the words. It has been handed down from father to the son, among that class of people whose business it is to direct burial ceremonies. None of them understand the words. It begins thus: “Too fia o chi t’occal’ow eio chi t’occal’ow ca me fafa’ngo cio mana’ve ta’wto, etc.” There are several Tongan words among it, and in all probability it is old or corrupted Tongan, though no sense can now be made of it.
The best the author (PWD) can make of this would be:
“Tufi ha’e si te kae lau
Si ‘ao si to kae lau
Ke ne fafangu si’e manava to-tau.”
In English this would be:
“Gather some si plants;
Grow and be counted
Si, grow and be counted —
To wake you up when you are fallen.”
While this is going on, a number of men in the neighbourhood get ready to come to the grave, to perform a part of the ceremony which the reader will not think altogether consonant with the high character for cleanliness which we have given. It must be considered, however, a religious rite, standing upon the foundation of very ancient custom. These men, about sixty in number, assemble before the grave, and wait further orders. The chanting being finished, and the conchs having ceased to blow, one of the mourners comes forward, seats herself outside the fa’itoka, and addresses the people thus, “Men! ye are gathered here to perform the duty imposed on you; bear up, and let not your exertions be wanting to accomplish the work.” Having said this, she retires into the fa’itoka.
The men now approach the mount (it being dark), and (if the phrase is allowable) perform their devotions to Cloacina, [move their bowels] after which they retire. As soon as it is daylight, the following morning, the women of the first rank (wives and daughters of the greatest chiefs), assemble with their female attendants, bringing baskets, one holding one side, and one the other, advancing two and two, with large shells to clear up the depositions of the night; and in this ceremonious act of humility there is no female of the highest consequence refuses to take her part. Some of the mourners in the fa’itoka generally come out to assist, so that in a very little while the place is made perfectly clean. This is repeated the fourteen following nights, and as punctually cleared away by sunrise every morning. No persons but the agents are allowed to be witnesses of these extraordinary ceremonies, at least it would be considered highly indecorous and irreligious to be so. On the sixteenth day, early in the morning, the same females again assemble; but now they are dressed up in the finest ngatu, and most beautiful Samoan mats, decorated with ribbons and with wreaths of flowers round their necks. They also bring new baskets, ornamented with flowers, and little brooms very tastefully made. Thus equipped, they approach, and act as if they had the same task to do as before, pretending to clear away the dirt, though no dirt is now there, and take it away in their baskets. They then return to the mu’a, and resume their mourning mats and leaves of the ifi tree. Such are the transactions of the fifteen days; every day the ceremony of the burning torches being also repeated. The natives themselves used to express their regret that the filthy part of these ceremonies was necessary to be performed, to demonstrate their great veneration for the high character of Tu’i Tonga, and that it was the duty of the most exalted nobles, even of the most delicate females of rank, to perform the meanest and most disgusting offices, rather than the sacred ground in which he was buried should remain polluted.
For one month, from the day of burial, greater or less quantities of provisions are brought every day, and shared out to the people. On the first day a prodigious quantity is supplied; but on every succeeding day a less quantity, gradually decreasing till the last, when, comparatively, a very small portion is brought. The expenditure, and we may say waste of provisions, is, however, so great, as to require a taboo to be laid on certain kinds of provisions, which lasts about eight or ten months; and at the end of that time the ceremony of Fakalahi is performed, to remove it.
Taboo. [In Tonga, tapu.] This word has various shades of signification: it means sacred or consecrated to a god, having the same signification as faka ‘eiki; it means prohibited or forbidden, and is applied not only to the thing prohibited, but to the prohibition itself, and frequently (when it is in sacred matters), to the person who breaks the prohibition. Thus if a piece of ground or a house be consecrated to a god, by express declaration, or the burial of a great chief, it is said to be taboo; the like if a canoe be consecrated, which is frequently done, that it may be more safe in long voyages. As it is forbidden to quarrel or fight upon consecrated ground, so fighting in such a place would be said to be taboo; and a man who is thus taboo would have to make some sacrifice to the gods as an atonement for the sacrilege, as instanced in Palavali’s case. If anyone touches a superior chief, or superior relation, or anything immediately belonging to him, he taboos himself; but this is not supposed to produce any bad consequence, unless he feeds himself with his own hands, without first removing this taboo, which is to be done by performing the ceremony of moe-moe, directly to be explained. If a person touches the body of a dead chief, or anything personally belonging to him, he becomes taboo, and time alone can relieve him. Certain kinds of food, as turtle, and a certain species of fish, from something in their nature, are said to be taboo, and must not be eaten until a small portion be first given to the gods. Any other kind of food may be rendered taboo by a prohibition being laid on it. Fruits and flowers when tabooed are generally marked to be so, by pieces of white tapa, or a piece of plait, in the shape of a lizard or shark. To prevent certain kinds of food from growing scarce, a prohibition or taboo is set on them for a time as after the ‘Inasi, or other great and repeated ceremonies; and which taboo is afterwards removed by the ceremony called fakalahi; but this latter term is not only applied to the ceremony which removes the prohibition, but is equally used to express the duration of the taboo itself, and which therefore is often called the time of the fakalahi. During certain ceremonies, as that of the ‘Inasi and the Fala, nobody may appear abroad, or at least in sight, it being tabooed to do so.
Anything that is not tabooed is said to be ngofua (i.e. easy, or at liberty), and is a term used in contradistinction to taboo.
When a person is tabooed, by touching a superior chief or relation, or anything personally belonging to him, he will perform the ceremony of moe-moe, before he will dare feed himself with his own hands. This ceremony consists in touching the soles of any superior chief’s feet with the hands, first applying the palm, then the back of each hand; after which the hands must be rinsed in a little water, or, if there is no water near, they may be rubbed with any part of the stem of the plantain or banana tree, the moisture of which will do instead of washing. He may then feed himself without danger of any disease, which would otherwise happen, as they think, from eating with tabooed hands. If anyone thinks he may have already (unknowingly) eaten with tabooed hands, he then sits down before a chief, and taking the foot of the latter, presses the sole of it against his own abdomen, that the food which is within him may do him no injury, and that consequently he may not swell up and die. This operation is called fota, (i.e. to press). It is tabooed also to eat when a superior relation is present, unless the back is turned towards him. When a person’s back is turned towards another, that other may be said, in one sense, not to be in his presence. Also to eat food which a superior relation or chief has touched; and if either of these taboos is accidentally infringed upon, the ceremony of fota must be performed. If anyone is tabooed by touching the person or garments of Tu’i Tonga, there is no other chief can relieve him from his taboo, because no chief is equal to him in rank; and, to avoid the inconvenience arising from his absence, a consecrated bowl (or some such thing), belonging to Tu’i Tonga, is applied to and touched, instead of his feet. In my time, Tu’i Tonga always left a pewter dish for this purpose, which dish was given to his father by Captain Cook. Veasi, usually adopted a similar plan. Kava, either the root or the infusion, cannot be tabooed by the touch of any chief of whatsoever rank; so that a common tu’a may chew kava which even Tu’i Tonga has touched.
As Mariner reports, most of the taboos concerned various aspects of the act of eating. Elaborate and complicated restrictions were established regulating this natural and necessary human need. Other cultures also commonly have their dietary restrictions. When the Polynesian word, taboo, entered the English language we often used it to refer to our limitations and restrictions of the sexual act. Captain Cook found the custom of taboo (kapu in Hawai’i) to be universal throughout all the Polynesian islands from New Zealand in the southwest to Hawai’i in the northeast.
Tuku kava. This ceremony consists in merely leaving a small piece of kava root before a consecrated house or grave, out of respect to a god, or to the departed spirit of a chief or relation, at the same time the ceremony of tuki or beating the cheeks is performed, as related. The tuki, which is performed at burials, is of a more serious nature.
Lotu. The term used for praying; but it is more commonly applied to prayers offered up in the fields to all the gods, but particularly to ‘Alo’alo, petitioning for a good harvest. It will be also recollected, that prayers are offered up before consecrated houses and graves.
As omens, to which they give a considerable degree of credit, and charms, which they sometimes practice, are more or less connected with their religion, I shall say something of them, before concluding the present subject. Most of their omens I have already had occasion to mention, and have given instances of in the course of this narrative. As to dreams: thunder and lightning, sneezing, these omens obtain almost universal credit; and they are thought to be direct indications from the gods of some event that is about to happen. There is a certain species of bird which they call sikota [kingfisher] which is very apt to make a sudden descent, and dart close by one, making a shrieking noise. This bird they suppose to be endowed with a knowledge of the future and they consider this action to be a warning of some evil that is about to happen.
As I was once going out with the present King, and a party of men, upon some excursion against the enemy, one of these birds made a sudden descent, passed over their heads, settled on a tree, passed over their heads again, and again settled; upon which the majority, not excepting the King, were for returning immediately; but I laughed at their superstition, and, to prove that the bird had no great insight into matters of futurity, I shot it with my musket. However, this did not prevent them from going back to their garrison. Several had a full conviction that I would soon be killed for this sacrilege.
In respect to the charms practiced among them, I have also a few words to say. The principal is that called tata’o, which has already been described. There are only two other practices which can well come under this head, namely kape’i or rather vangi, which means a curse, or a malevolent order or command; and ta niu, a charm to discover whether a sick person will live or die. Of the former, namely kape’i, I have given instances from which it will appear that they are chiefly malevolent wishes, or commands, that the object may eat, or otherwise maltreat his relations or gods; and when we come to reflect that they believe in no future place of punishment, but that all human evils are the consequences of crimes, and that disrespect to one’s superior relations is little short of sacrilege to the gods, these malevolent commands, however ridiculous some of them may appear to us, amount to the most horrible curses; for if such commands were fulfilled, nothing less than the most dreadful of human miseries would be expected to fall on the head of the sacrilegious perpetrator. But it is only when a number of curses are repeated in a string, as it were, and pronounced firmly, and with real malevolence, that they are supposed to have any effect; but not even then, if the party who curses is considerably lower in rank that the party cursed. When a whole string is thus uttered, it is properly called vangi, and is often to the amount of thirty or forty in number. I heard one consisting of eighty maledictions, all disposed in rhyme; the rhyme, however, is not necessary. For a tolerable fair sample of this wonderful charm, the following may be taken: “Dig up your father by moonlight, and make soup of his bones; bake his skin to cracknel; gnaw his skull; devour your mother; dig up your aunt, and cut her to pieces; feed upon the earth of your grave; chew the heart of your grandfather; swallow the eyes of your uncle; strike your god; eat the gristly bones of your children; suck out the brains of your grandmother; dress yourself up in the skin of your father, and tie it on with the entrails of your mother,”
The ancient Tongan curses had a strong reference to the act of cannibalism, which was to their mind a disgusting thought and suitable material for cursing. On the other hand, the American is apt to have his curses generated from religious or sexual references such as: ‘god damn’, ‘screw you,’ and ‘mother fucker.’
As to the charm of ta niu it consists in spinning a coconut with the husk on, and judging by the direction of the upper part, when again at rest, of the object of inquiry, which is, chiefly, whether a sick person will recover. For this purpose, the nut being placed on the ground, a relation of the sick person determines that, if the nut, when again at rest, points to such a quarter, the east for example, that the sick man will recover. He then prays aloud to the patron god of the family, that he will be pleased to direct the nut, so that it may indicate the truth. The nut being next spun, the result is attended to with confidence, at least with a full conviction that it will truly declare the intentions of the gods at the time. The other occasions in which the spinning of a coconut is used, is chiefly for amusement, and then no prayer is made, and no degree of credit is attached to the result.
This spinning of the coconut for amusement is very much akin to the American children’s game of spin the milk bottle.