32. CHAPTER XXXII.
PROCEEDINGS OF THE FRENCH AT TAHITI.
As I happened to arrive at the island at a very interesting
period in its political affairs, it may be well to give some little
account here of the proceedings of the French, by way of
episode to the narrative. My information was obtained at the
time from the general reports then rife among the natives, as
well as from what I learned upon a subsequent visit, and reliable
accounts which I have seen since reaching home.
It seems, that for some time back the French had been
making repeated ineffectual attempts to plant a Roman Catholic
mission here. But, invariably treated with contumely, they
sometimes met with open violence; and, in every case, those
directly concerned in the enterprise were ultimately forced to
depart. In one instance, two priests, Laval and Caset, after
enduring a series of persecutions, were set upon by the natives,
maltreated, and finally carried aboard a small trading schooner,
which eventually put them ashore at Wallis' island—a savage
place—some two thousand miles to the westward.
Now, that the resident English missionaries authorized the
banishment of these priests, is a fact undenied by themselves.
I was also repeatedly informed, that by their inflammatory harangues
they instigated the riots which preceded the sailing of
the schooner. At all events, it is certain that their unbounded
influence with the natives would easily have enabled them to
prevent every thing that took place on this occasion, had they
felt so inclined.
Melancholy as such an example of intolerance on the part of
Protestant missionaries must appear, it is not the only one, and
by no means the most flagrant, which might be presented. But
I forbear to mention any others; since they have been more than
hinted at by recent voyagers, and their repetition here would
perhaps be attended with no good effect. Besides, the conduct
of the Sandwich Island missionaries in particular, has latterly
much amended in this respect.
The treatment of the two priests formed the principal ground
(and the only justifiable one) upon which Du Petit Thouars
demanded satisfaction; and which subsequently led to his
seizure of the island. In addition to other things, he also
charged, that the flag of Merenhout, the consul, had been repeatedly
insulted, and the property of a certain French resident
violently appropriated by the government. In the latter instance,
the natives were perfectly in the right. At that time, the
law against the traffic in ardent spirits (every now and then
suspended and revived) happened to be in force; and finding
a large quantity on the premises of Victor, a low, knavish adventurer
from Marseilles, the Tahitians pronounced it forfeit.
For these, and similar alledged outrages, a large pecuniary
restitution was demanded ($10,000), which there being no
exchequer to supply, the island was forthwith seized, under
cover of a mock treaty, dictated to the chiefs on the gun-deck
of Du Petit Thouar's frigate. But, notwithstanding this formality,
there now seems little doubt that the downfall of the
Pomarees was decided upon at the Tuilleries.
After establishing the Protectorate, so called, the rear-admiral
sailed; leaving M. Bruat governor, assisted by Reine
and Carpegne, civilians, named members of the Council of
Government, and Merenhout, the consul, now made Commissioner
Royal. No soldiers, however, were landed, until
several months afterward. As men, Reine and Carpegne were
not disliked by the natives; but Bruat and Merenhout they
bitterly detested. In several interviews with the poor queen,
the unfeeling governor sought to terrify her into compliance
with his demands; clapping his hand upon his sword, shaking
his fist in her face, and swearing violently. “Oh, king of a
great nation,” said Pomaree, in her letter to Louis Phillipe,
“fetch away this man; I and my people can not endure his
evil doings. He is a shameless man.”
Although the excitement among the natives did not wholly
subside upon the rear-admiral's departure, no overt act of
violence immediately followed. The queen had fled to Imeeo;
and the dissensions among the chiefs, together with the ill
advised conduct of the missionaries, prevented a union upon
some common plan of resistance. But the great body of the
people, as well as their queen, confidently relied upon the
speedy interposition of England—a nation bound to them by
many ties, and which, more than once, had solemnly guarantied
their independence.
As for the missionaries, they openly defied the French
governor, childishly predicting fleets and armies from Britain.
But what is the welfare of a spot like Tahiti, to the mighty
interests of France and England! There was a remonstrance
on one side, and a reply on the other; and there the matter
rested. For once in their brawling lives, St. George and St.
Denis were hand and glove; and they were not going to cross
sabres about Tahiti.
During my stay upon the island, so far as I could see, there
was little to denote that any change had taken place in the
government. Such laws as they had were administered the
same as ever; the missionaries went about unmolested, and
comparative tranquillity everywhere prevailed. Nevertheless,
I sometimes heard the natives inveighing against the French
(no favorites, by the by, throughout Polynesia), and bitterly
regretting that the queen had not, at the outset, made a stand.
In the house of the chief Adeea, frequent discussions took
place, concerning the ability of the island to cope with the
French: the number of fighting men and muskets among the
natives were talked of, as well as the propriety of fortifying
several heights overlooking Papeetee. Imputing these symptoms
to the mere resentment of a recent outrage, and not to
any determined spirit of resistance, I little anticipated the
gallant, though useless warfare, so soon to follow my departure.
At a period subsequent to my first visit, the island, which
before was divided into nineteen districts, with a native chief
over each, in capacity of governor and judge, was, by Bruat,
divided into four. Over these he set as many recreant chiefs,
Kitoti, Tati, Utamai, and Paraita; to whom he paid $1000 each,
to secure their assistance in carrying out his evil designs.
The first blood shed, in any regular conflict, was at Mahanar,
upon the peninsula of Taraiboo. The fight originated in the
seizure of a number of women from the shore, by men belonging
to one of the French vessels of war. In this affair, the
islanders fought desperately, killing about fifty of the enemy,
and losing ninety of their own number. The French sailors
and marines, who, at the time, were reported to be infuriated
with liquor, gave no quarter; and the survivors only saved
themselves by fleeing to the mountains. Subsequently, the
battles of Hararparpi and Fararar were fought, in which the
invaders met with indifferent success.
Shortly after the engagement at Hararparpi, three Frenchmen
were waylaid in a pass of the valleys, and murdered by
the incensed natives. One was Lefevre, a notorious scoundrel,
and a spy, whom Bruat had sent to conduct a certain Major
Fergus (said to be a Pole), to the hiding-place of four chiefs,
whom the governor wished to seize and execute. This circumstance
violently inflamed the hostility of both parties.
About this time, Kitoti, a depraved chief, and the pliant
tool of Bruat, was induced by him to give a great feast in the
Vale of Paree, to which all his countrymen were invited.
The governor's object was to gain over all he could to his
interests; he supplied an abundance of wine and brandy, and
a scene of bestial intoxication was the natural consequence.
Before it came to this, however, several speeches were made
by the islanders. One of these, delivered by an aged warrior,
who had formerly been at the head of the celebrated Aeorai
Society, was characteristic. “This is a very good feast,” said
the reeling old man, “and the wine also is very good; but you
evil-minded Wee-Wees (French), and you false-hearted men of
Tahiti, are all very bad.”
By the latest accounts, most of the islanders still refuse to
submit to the French; and what turn events may hereafter
take, it is hard to predict. At any rate, these disorders must
accelerate the final extinction of their race.
Along with the few officers left by Du Petit Thouars, were
several French priests, for whose unobstructed exertions in
the dissemination of their faith, the strongest guaranties were
provided by an article of the treaty. But no one was bound
to offer them facilities; much less a luncheon, the first day
they went ashore. True, they had plenty of gold; but to the
natives it was anathema—taboo—and, for several hours and
some odd minutes, they would not touch it. Emissaries of the
Pope and the devil, as the strangers were considered—the
smell of sulphur hardly yet shaken out of their canonicals—
what islander would venture to jeopardize his soul, and call
down a blight on his bread-fruit, by holding any intercourse
with them! That morning the priests actually picknicked in a
grove of cocoa-nut trees; but, before night, Christian hospitality—in
exchange for a commercial equivalent of hard dollars—
was given them in an adjoining house.
Wanting in civility, as the conduct of the English missionaries
may be thought, in withholding a decent reception to
these persons, the latter were certainly to blame in needlessly
placing themselves in so unpleasant a predicament. Under
far better auspices, they might have settled upon some one
of the thousand unconverted isles of the Pacific, rather than
have forced themselves thus, upon a people already professedly
Christians.
