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A Fragment of Samoan History
The following article appeared in Overland monthly and Out West Magazine. Volume 9, Issue 1, July 1872 and was written by John Manning. Whether it can be taken as being an accurate representation of fact is open to doubt since it contains various discernible inaccuracies. It is also interesting to note the spelling of the words "Tongatapu" and "Hawaii" as well as other names.
CALIFORNIA, with all its allurements, was very little known twenty-four years ago to the great mass of adventurers. It is, therefore, reasonable to suppose that islets, dropped as it were in the ocean with nothing about them to attract attention save their repose and enchanting beauty, would escape the world's notice. And had not missionary zeal penetrated even to these fairy spots, the world would have utterly forgotten that Captain Cook, fifty years before, had held high carnival with the natives - ate, or tried to cat, raw fish at their banquets, and drank cava with their chiefs. Though the world knew them not, and they were unambitious of recognition, the natives of these lonely places sometimes enacted episodes of love and war of thrilling interest.
A branch of the Malay race, the natives of Polynesia distributed themselves in families on the different groups of those islands, each family or group constituting a tribe, each tribe speaking a dialect of the same aboriginal language; and, though differing but little in their habits and customs, they were yet hostile to and extremely jealous of one another, carrying on petty wars with savage ferocity.
They invaded each other's territory in war-canoes - marvels of rude naval architecture, which bore some resemblance to the triremes of the Romans in their first great naval engagement with the Carthaginians. Their war-canoe was composed of two single canoes of great dimensions lashed together, two feet apart, with cross-beams and ropes, the latter twisted from the husk of cocoa-nut. On these cross-beams were laid rude planks, forming the deck, on which warriors stood and fought at close quarters. Each war-canoe could accommodate fifty fighting men - more, on an emergency - and was propelled with large paddles and a mat sail. Each of these single canoes was not, like their fishing-canoes, fashioned out of one large log or tree, but was made of several heavy slabs or planks, stitched together with cords of cocoa-nut husk, and the seams were calked with the same husk, mixed with a sort of gluten found on the islands. A fleet of ten or fifteen of these war-canoes could carry a formidable invading force.
At the date of our narrative, the bitterest animosity prevailed between Tongalaboo and Samoa - the two groups being within sixteen hours' paddling of each other. By the Tongamen it was alleged that the Samoans were in the habit of encroaching on their fishing-grounds; while, on the other hand, the Samoans accused the men of Tonga of being quarrelsome neighbors; of always seeking, right or wrong, a pretext for fighting; and, finally, of being unnecessarily ferocious and vindictive in war. In each of these allegations there was some truth. The runaway sailors - the "beach-combers" as they were called - who resided on both groups, and invariably took sides with those among whom they were sojourning, forming their strongest auxiliaries, admitted the accusations on both sides. That the charge of wild ferocity on the part of the Tongs, tribe was more than well founded was, in fact, established in the bloody records of that nation; for even their very friends could not forget that it was these same Tongamen who murdered Captain Cook, at Owyhee, after he had made them presents and had treated them with the utmost kindness.
Incidental to this, an old woman, then living, and with whom the present writer had often conversed, remembered that tragic affair very well. She was then ten or twelve years old, and recollected the consternation and fear that took possession of all when the great ship - a monster of the deep, as they thought - anchored in the roadstead, and how their very best warriors, with all the rest following, ran into the woods to escape immediate destruction; how a boat with four or five White Men was sent ashore from the great ship, when the White Men laughed and joked with the old women, who were left behind, being un-able to make their escape with the rest, while the warriors crept back by degrees behind the bushes, and watched the proceedings between the women and the strangers - when, seeing the latter meant no harm, they were, at last, emboldened to come forth and hold converse with the harmless Whites; how the warriors, in great awe and wonder, examined the limbs of the Whites to as-certain if they were made of flesh and blood like their own, and especially did they wonder at the White Men's whiskers, which they pulled while the White Men laughed and made wry faces. Some of the most adventurous of the warriors were induced to accompany the strangers, in order to look at the great Chief who commanded the monster of the deep; and when they came on board, Captain Cook gave them bread and meat. As they did not know what the bread and meat were for, the great Chief put some in his own mouth and began to eat, when they all laughed and began to eat, too. Then he gave them medals, and beautiful, bright brass, and beads to put round their necks, and looking-glasses and pictures, and finally, when they were going away, he gave the. Two young hogs - male and female - the progenitors of the herds of swine now on the island, promising to come ashore himself next day. All these things the old dame remembered very well. Next day the warriors and maidens prepared a feast for the great Chief, and were to entertain him in the evening with a dance. He came, as he had promised; and the dame remembered him as a tall, portly man, of middle age, and wearing a large cocked-hat. He was smoking a cigar when he landed, and when the warriors saw the smoke coming out of his mouth, they thought him the arringa, or "devil-devil;" whereupon they surrounded and killed him on the spot with their shark-toothed spears. The old lady concluded by saying, as an apology for her countrymen, that "the Tongamen were not so much enlightened in those days as at present!"
But to proceed with our more immediate narrative. The chronic enmity between these two nations culminated at last in a descent on Samoa by the men of Tonga. One morning, in the month of April, 1837, a fleet of ten war-canoes, with five hundred chosen young warriors on board, set sail from Tongalaboo, and landed in the dead of night in Felialupe (residence of the gods), the largest village on the principal island of the group, and containing about three hundred houses. They rushed on the doomed village with spew, club, and fagot, set fire to the houses and slaugh-tered the inmates without distinction of age or sex until the village smoked in ruins, and those inhabitants who did not escape, or were not captured, lay stiff in death. By break of day, wild with joy and sated with slaughter, they returned to their canoes with twelve captive maidens of the highest rank. But in their eager haste to pounce on the sleeping village, and in their confidence of complete surprise and success, they were not so cautious as to remem-ber the Samoan war-canoes in their sheds on the beach; and they forgot, that, though they might destroy the village, the means of pursuit were at hand. The Samoans who escaped fled to the neighboring villages, sounded the alarm, and described the catastrophe; whereupon Samoan warriors, brave as their foes and not less fierce in battle, rushed forward to relieve the living and avenge the dead, and just as the Tongamen, exulting in their bloody triumph, were launching their canoes, the Samoans, suddenly filling the air with yells and imprecations, surprised them, in turn. The shock of encounter was terrible and desperate. On one side they fought for escape and their bare lives; on the other, for vengeance - vengeance for the village, the smoke from whose yet burning ruins enveloped the combatants and rose on the still morning air- vengeance for the dead, the wild wail of whose relatives rose high above the din of battle. On the first approach of the Samoans, the Tongamen hastily divided their forces - one half to act as vanguard and to stem the tide of the coming enemy; the other half to launch the canoes and prepare for embarkation. The Samoans made a parallel disposition of their force to counteract the plan of the invaders; and, as the former were fighting on native soil and were hourly reinforced, their canoes were soon standing outside the breakers and prepared to intercept the flying enemy. The battle raged now on land and water. Here hostile canoes grappled and were lashed together as in more scientific naval warfare, while warriors rushed upon one another, thinking now of neither life nor escape, but only of killing the enemy. Men wrestled on the giddy deck until, in deadly grip, they fell together in the water, and even there (being expert swimmers) they fought until one or the other sank beneath the war-club of his antagonist. On the beach, the Tongamen, fighting now against overwhelming odds, stood shoulder to shoulder - now receding, then advancing; now beaten into the tide, again rallying des-perately in the face of the enemy, and once more regaining dry land. And thus the battle raged till noon, when the Tongamen, thinned by death and worn with fighting, broke, and each sought safety in flight. Three hundred of the Tonga warriors fell in this engagement; the remainder were captured and held as slaves, with the exception of about sixty men, who, with only one canoe of their whole fleet, escaped to tell the tragic tale to their countrymen.
Manua, the smallest isle but one of the eight which constitute the Samoan group, and an islet not quite a mile in length or breadth, was the seat of government. Here the King and royal family resided, with the great functionaries of state, and the principal aristocratic families in all Samoa; and in no country was social rank more sharply defined. Thither were sent from the other six Islands tributes of fine mats, tapa, car-casses of fresh pork, and cava (this last, a root, which, when chewed in the mouth, and afterward diluted with water in the tano, or basin, makes a liquid like soap-suds in taste as well as color, and, be-ing intoxicating, is therefore in great request). Thither were sent all things necessary to the support and sumptu-ous entertainment of the Court; for the Court, here, as elsewhere, did not pro-duce, but only consumed.
Great indeed was the royal indigna-tion, when news of the destruction of Felialupe reached Manua. A council of war was immediately held, in which extremest measures of retaliation were adopted. It was even urged by the Highpriest - a bold, violent, unscrupulous man, who combined in his own person the threefold office of warrior, prophet, and high-priest-to put to immediate death the prisoners taken in the late battle. This proposal, terrible even to the savage, the King - an old man - emphatically and absolutely vetoed. While preparations for invasion of the Tonga territory were pushed forward with utmost dispatch, embassadors from that nation arrived at Court, to plead for the captives and negotiate for their release. They were received coldly by the monarch, and with insult and reproaches by the High-priest. After prolonged ceremonials, of unintelligible import, and the delivery of presents, they were admitted to audience, in the public square, and the audience extended through ten days. On this most interesting occasion, speeches of a day's duration were made; and in no assembly could there have been greater etiquette and courtesy. The King and all his great chiefs sat in a circle of two hundred feet in diameter, and behind this great circle sat the common people. The venerable monarch, eighty years of age, stood up and opened the proceedings, in a long speech. He conjured his subjects, whatever the result at which they might ultimately arrive in respect to the captives, to hear the embassadors with courtesy and respect, as became brave warriors conscious of their prowess and the justice of their cause. The embassadors began by deploring the wicked and unjustifiable descent on Samoa by their countrymen. Their oldest and wisest men had opposed and forbidden it; but the voice of wisdom, they said, was drowned in the hot blood of rash young men, whom the brave warriors of Samoa had well and deservedly chastised. And, since severe and just punishment was inflicted on the offenders; and since, besides, the sages and wise men of Tonga had been, first and last, opposed to the invasion, they hoped friendly counsels would prevail, and that the King and his great chiefs would hearken to the entreaties of Tongs, and deal favorably with the prisoners. It was, they further urged, the interest of neighboring nations to live in peace and amity with each other "Soia, soia" - "Tis well 'tis well" - murmured the monarch, and the exclamation was echoed round the circle, except in the quarter where sat the High-priest and his friends); and if, they continued, Samoa and Tonga were to form a friendly alliance, offensive and defensive, as they (the embassadors) hoped they would, then the two nations, instead of weakening each other by perpetual strife and unprofitable contests, might safely defy the enmities and jealousies of surrounding nations, and even dictate to their enemies. The aged monarch was acutely alive to the many solid advantages that the realization of this suggestion would confer on both peoples, and expressed his concurrence and satisfaction in the usual exclamation, which was again echoed round the circle, with the exception already mentioned. The highpriest, when the embassadors had concluded, made a violent speech, in which he emphatically declared that, as sure as the gods presided over the destinies of Samoa, the burning of Felialupe, their sacred residence, must be avenged; and the Samoan blood, so dastardly spilt by the enemy, be expiated, to the last drop. And, openly reproaching the King with weakness and dotage, he boldly avowed his determination of sweeping from his path any or all who resisted retaliation and retributive vengeance. In this he addressed the popular mind, and expressed the popular wish. But this last insolent language caused violent commotion; and the King, as much in derision of the vaunt as from state policy, commanded the immediate release of the captives.
So far, the High-priest had spoken in his capacity of warrior and high-priest only. He now spoke as prophet. Quaking in every limb, and frothing at the mouth - as was his wont, when in communion with the Great Spirit - he prophesied evil days to Samoa: that ere the moon had twice filled her horns, a cloud would settle on the isles; that the sacred wells, wherein the gods resided, would turn red as gore; that brother would fight against brother, and Samoan blood, on Samoan soil, would flow as freely as the mountain waters of Teriora. The great council broke up in disorder. The embassadors, with their released countrymen, departed in peace. The High-priest prepared for revolution; and made offerings of pineapple and sweet banana to his native gods. In three weeks, through his machinations and prophecies, Samoa was plunged in civil war. In two months the monarch was deposed, and sent - with his family, into exile, to the neighboring isle of Upolu; and the Highpriest assumed the reins of sovereign power.
The usurper reigned only three years, when he died, leaving his daughter, Avola - a girl of sixteen - to inherit his unjustly acquired dominion. Avola was beautiful, and of a kind disposition. In due time, and in accordance with Samoan usage, she made a progress through - out all the isles of her newly acquired kingdom, accompanied by the magnates of the nation, and was everywhere received with profoundest homage and the veneration due to her rank. The daughter of a famous warrior, high-priest, and prophet, she was respected even by those who fought against her father in the late revolution; and her age, her sex, her beauty - but above all, the sweetness of her disposition - charmed her friends, and conciliated the enemies of the new dynasty. Never was a usurper's heir more generally respected or more sin-cerely beloved.
When she arrived on Upolu, the venerable King and the Princes (his sons) hastened to meet her, and to lay presents at her feet; and, far from evincing any jealousy at her exalted state, welcomed her cordially to their place of exile. At sight of the fallen monarch, and the magnanimous bearing of himself and sons, the royal maiden wept in very tenderness. The happiest augury was divined from' the interview. Partisans, however violent, could scarcely fail to see the probability of an alliance between the exiled and the reigning dynasties, and to appreciate the expediency and wisdom of such a union. It was but natural to suppose, that, on the death of the aged King, his sons would try to recover their lost inheritance, and once more steep the kingdom in river of blood. What, then, could be more rational or more just, than to avert, in time, a possible future calamity, by uniting Avola in marriage with one of the King's sons - a union in every way eligible - and, thus reconcile conflicting interests? It became the theme of all circles, high and low, political and social; and, with the facility of invention peculiar to such themes, it was even bruited about that the very day for the celebration of the nuptials had already been fixed. But alas for the plans of Samoan statesmen! the youngest of the Princes was thirty-five, and Avola only sixteen; and, at her age, and in her clime, passions are fervid. Avola had already loved.
In due time she returned to her home at Manna. Her arrival was the signal for a day of general rejoicing, of feasting and dancing. In the evening twilight, after the great banquet, a throng of youths and maidens assembled on the beach, beside the crag (as is, or was, the custom), to dance and sing love-songs. On the crag, screened from the view and the hearing of the joyous revelers, sat Avola and her lover, in secret and sa-cred converse.
"The sun," pursued the youth, in continuation of their converse - "the sun no longer shines on the shrub: the tall trees on the mountain shade it from view!"
"Affairs of state so ordain it," observed the maiden, with downcast mien and melancholy brow.
"The shrub that rejoiced in the sunshine," continued the youth, "shall wither and die, and be forever forgotten."
"O Thama - Thama! say not so; you know how I have loved you - how still I love you! But - "
"When the birds shall wake the morn-ing sun, wilt thou think of Thama ?
"I will."
When the noontide sun shall be bleaching yonder beach, wilt thou think of him?
"I will."
"When sea-gulls skip the evening tide, wilt thou-?"
"What do you mean?"
"Kiss me, Avola! There - again- and again! 'Tis well - adieu-farewell!" and dropping his tapa, or mantle, in her lap, he sprang, like an antelope, to the edge of the crag.
"O stay, Thama - stay! she cried, rushing to seize him. I'm thine - thine -forever thine !"
But it was too late; the plunge was already made. And then a shriek, and another plunge; and the angry waves washed over the mangled remains of both!