44. CHAPTER XLIV.
CATHEDRAL OF PAPOAR.—THE CHURCH OF THE COCOA-NUTS.
On Sundays I always attended the principal native church on
the outskirts of the village of Papeetee, and not far from the
Calabooza Beretanee. It was esteemed the best specimen of
architecture in Tahiti.
Of late, they have built their places of worship with more
reference to durability than formerly. At one time, there were
no less than thirty-six on the island—mere barns, tied together
with thongs, which went to destruction in a very few years.
One, built many years ago in this style, was a most remarkable
structure. It was erected by Pomaree II., who, on this
occasion, showed all the zeal of a royal proselyte. The building
was over seven hundred feet in length, and of a proportionate
width; the vast ridge-pole was at intervals supported by
a row of thirty-six cylindrical trunks of the bread-fruit tree;
and, all round, the wall-plates rested on shafts of the palm.
The roof—steeply inclining to within a man's height of the
ground—was thatched with leaves, and the sides of the edifice
were open. Thus spacious was the Royal Mission Chapel of
Papoar.
At its dedication, three distinct sermons were, from different
pulpits, preached to an immense concourse gathered from all
parts of the island.
As the chapel was built by the king's command, nearly as
great a multitude was employed in its construction, as swarmed
over the scaffolding of the great temple of the Jews. Much
less time, however, was expended. In less than three weeks
from planting the first post, the last tier of palmetto-leaves
drooped from the eaves, and the work was done.
Apportioned to the several chiefs and their dependents, the
labor, though immense, was greatly facilitated by every one's
bringing his post, or his rafter, or his pole strung with thatching,
ready for instant use. The materials thus prepared being
afterward secured together by thongs, there was literally
“neither hammer, nor axe, nor any tool of iron heard in the
house while it was building.”
But the most singular circumstance connected with this
South Sea cathedral, remains to be related. As well for the
beauty, as the advantages of such a site, the islanders love to
dwell near the mountain streams; and so, a considerable brook,
after descending from the hills and watering the valley, was
bridged over in three places, and swept clean through the
chapel.
Flowing waters! what an accompaniment to the songs of the
sanctuary; mingling with them, the praises and thanksgivings
of the green solitudes inland.
But the chapel of the Polynesian Solomon has long since
been deserted. Its thousand rafters of habiscus have decayed,
and fallen to the ground; and now, the stream murmurs over
them in its bed.
The present metropolitan church of Tahiti is very unlike the
one just described. It is of moderate dimensions, boarded
over, and painted white. It is furnished also with blinds, but
no sashes; indeed, were it not for the rustic thatch, it would
remind one of a plain chapel at home.
The wood-work was all done by foreign carpenters, of whom
there are always several about Papeetee.
Within, its aspect is unique, and can not fail to interest a
stranger. The rafters overhead are bound round with fine
matting of variegated dyes; and all along the ridge-pole, these
trappings hang pendent, in alternate bunches of tassels and deep
fringes of stained grass. The floor is composed of rude planks.
Regular aisles run between ranges of native settees, bottomed
with crossed braids of the cocoa-nut fibre, and furnished with
backs.
But the pulpit, made of a dark, lustrous wood, and standing
at one end, is by far the most striking object. It is preposterously
lofty; indeed, a capital bird's-eye view of the congregation
ought to be had from its summit.
Nor does the church lack a gallery, which runs round on
three sides, and is supported by columns of the cocoa-nut tree.
Its facings are here and there daubed over with a tawdry
blue; and in other places (without the slightest regard to uniformity),
patches of the same color may be seen. In their ardor
to decorate the sanctuary, the converts must have borrowed
each a brush full of paint, and zealously daubed away at the
first surface that offered.
As hinted, the general impression is extremely curious. Little
light being admitted, and every thing being of a dark color,
there is an indefinable Indian aspect of duskiness, throughout.
A strange, woody smell, also—more or less pervading every
considerable edifice in Polynesia—is at once perceptible. It
suggests the idea of worm-eaten idols packed away in some old
lumber-room at hand.
For the most part, the congregation attending this church is
composed of the better and wealthier orders—the chiefs and
their retainers; in short, the rank and fashion of the island.
This class is infinitely superior in personal beauty and general
healthfulness to the “marenhoar,” or common people; the
latter having been more exposed to the worst and most debasing
evils of foreign intercourse. On Sundays, the former are
invariably arrayed in their finery; and thus appear to the best
advantage. Nor are they driven to the chapel, as some of their
inferiors are to other places of worship; on the contrary, capable
of maintaining a handsome exterior, and possessing greater
intelligence, they go voluntarily.
In respect of the woodland colonnade supporting its galleries,
I called this chapel the Church of the Cocoa-nuts.
It was the first place for Christian worship in Polynesia that
I had seen; and the impression upon entering during service
was all the stronger. Majestic-looking chiefs, whose fathers
had hurled the battle-club, and old men who had seen sacrifices
smoking upon the altars of Oro, were there. And hark! hanging
from the bough of a bread-fruit tree without, a bell is being
struck with a bar of iron by a native lad. In the same spot,
the blast of the war-conch had often resounded. But to the
proceedings within.
The place is well filled. Everywhere meets the eye the gay
calico draperies worn on great occasions by the higher classes,
and forming a strange contrast of patterns and colors. In some
instances, these are so fashioned as to resemble as much as possible,
European garments. This is in excessively bad taste.
Coats and pantaloons, too, are here and there seen; but they
look awakwardly enough, and take away from the general effect.
But it is the array of countenances that most strikes you.
Each is suffused with the peculiar animation of the Polynesians,
when thus collected in large numbers. Every robe is rustling,
every limb in motion, and an incessant buzzing going on
throughout the assembly. The tumult is so great, that the voice
of the placid old missionary, who now rises, is almost inaudible.
Some degree of silence is at length obtained through
the exertions of half-a-dozen strapping fellows, in white shirts
and no pantaloons. Running in among the settees, they are
at great pains to inculcate the impropriety of making a noise,
by creating a most unnecessary racket themselves. This part
of the service was quite comical.
There is a most interesting Sabbath School connected with
the church; and the scholars, a vivacious, mischievous set, were
in one part of the gallery. I was amused by a party in a corner.
The teacher sat at one end of the bench, with a meek
little fellow by his side. When the others were disorderly, this
young martyr received a rap; intended, probably, as a sample
of what the rest might expect, if they didn't amend.
Standing in the body of the church, and leaning against a
pillar, was an old man, in appearance very different from
others of his countrymen. He wore nothing but a coarse,
scant mantle, of faded tappa; and from his staring, bewildered
manner, I set him down as an aged bumpkin from the
interior, unaccustomed to the strange sights and sounds of the
metropolis. This old worthy was sharply reprimanded for
standing up, and thus intercepting the view of those behind;
but not comprehending exactly what was said to him, one of
the white liveried gentry made no ceremony of grasping him
by the shoulders, and fairly crushing him down into a seat.
During all this, the old missionary in the pulpit—as well as
his associates beneath, never ventured to interfere—leaving
every thing to native management. With South Sea islanders,
assembled in any numbers, there is no other way of getting
along.
