Part 15

The Tongan archipelago is much less extensive than that of the Feegees,—the islands being of a limited number, and only five or six of them of any considerable size. Tongataboo, the largest, is about ninety miles in circumference. From the most southern of the group Eoo, to Vavau at the other extremity, it stretches, northerly or northeasterly, about two hundred miles, in a nearly direct line. The islands are all, with one or two exceptions, low-lying, their surface being diversified by a few hillocks or mounds, of fifty or sixty feet in height, most of which have the appearance of being artificial. Some of the smaller islets, as Kao, are mountains of some six hundred feet elevation, rising directly out of the sea; while Tofoa, near the eastern edge of the archipelago, presents the appearance of an elevated table-land. The larger number of them are clothed with a rich tropical vegetation, both natural and cultivated, and their botany includes most of the species common to the other islands of the South Sea. We find the cocoa, and three other species of palm, the pandanus, the bread-fruit in varieties, as also the useful musacaæ,—the plantain, and banana. The ti-tree (_Dracæna terminalis_), the paper-mulberry (_Broussonetia papyrifera_), the sugar-cane, yams of many kinds, the tree yielding the well-known _turmeric_, the beautiful _casuarina_, and a hundred other sorts of plants, shrubs, or trees, valuable for the product of their roots or fruits, their sap and pith, of their trunks and branches, their leaves and the fibrous material of their bark.

As a scenic decoration to the soil, there is no part of the world where more lovely landscapes are produced by the aid of a luxuriant vegetation. They are perhaps not equal in picturesque effect to those of the Feegee group,—where mountains form an adjunct to the scenery,—but in point of soft, quiet beauty, the landscapes of the Tonga Islands are not surpassed by any others in the tropical world; and with the climate they enjoy—that of an endless summer—they might well answer to the description of the “abode of the Blessed.” And, indeed, when Tasman first looked upon these islands, they perhaps merited the title more than any other spot on the habitable globe; for, if any people on this earth might be esteemed happy and blessed, surely it was the inhabitants of these fair isles of the far Southern Sea. Tasman even records the remarkable fact, that he saw no arms among them,—no weapons of war! and perhaps, at that time, neither the detestable trade nor its implements were known to them. Alas in little more than a century afterwards, this peaceful aspect was no longer presented. When the great English navigator visited these islands, he found the war-club and spear in the hands of the people, both of Feegee pattern, and undoubtedly of the same ill-omened origin.

The personal appearance of the Friendly Islanders differs not a great deal from that of the other South-Sea tribes or nations. Of course we speak only of the true Polynesians of the brown complexion, without reference to the black-skinned islanders—as the Feegees and others of the Papuan stock. The two have neither resemblance nor relationship to one another; and it would not be difficult to show that they are of a totally distinct origin. As for the blacks, it is not even certain that they are themselves of one original stock; for the splendidly-developed cannibal of Feegee presents very few features in common with the wretched kangaroo-eater of West Australia. Whether the black islanders (or Melanesians as they have been designated) originally came from one source, is still a question for ethnologists; but there can be no doubt as to the direction whence they entered upon the colonization of the Pacific. That was certainly upon its western border, beyond which they have not made much progress: since the Feegeean archipelago is at the present time their most advanced station to the eastward. The brown or Polynesian races, on the contrary, began their migrations from the eastern border of the great ocean—in other words, they came from America; and the so-called Indians of America are, in my opinion, the _progenitors_, not the _descendants_, of these people of the Ocean world. If learned ethnologists will give their attention to this view of the subject, and disembarrass their minds of that fabulous old fancy, about an original stock situated somewhere (they know not exactly where) upon the steppes of Asia, they will perhaps arrive at a more rational hypothesis about the peopling of the so-called new worlds, both the American and Oceanic. They will be able to prove—what might be here done if space would permit—that the Polynesians are emigrants from tropical America, and that the Sandwich Islanders came originally from California, and not the Californians from the island homes of Hawaii.

It is of slight importance here how this question may be viewed. Enough to know that the natives of the Tonga group bear a strong resemblance to those of the other Polynesian archipelagos—to the Otaheitans and New Zealanders, but most of all to the inhabitants of the Samoan or Navigators’ Islands, of whom, indeed, they may be regarded as a branch, with a separate political and geographical existence. Their language also confirms the affinity, as it is merely a dialect of the common tongue spoken by all the Polynesians.

Whatever difference exists between the Tongans and other Polynesians in point of personal appearance, is in favor of the former. The men are generally regarded as the best-looking of all South-Sea Islanders, and the women among the fairest of their sex. Many of them would be accounted beautiful in any part of the world; and as a general rule, they possess personal beauty in a far higher degree than the much-talked-of Otaheitans.

The Tongans are of tall stature—rather above than under that of European nations. Men of six feet are common enough; though few are seen of what might be termed gigantic proportions. In fact, the true medium size is almost universal, and the excess in either direction forms the exception. The bulk of their bodies is in perfect proportion to their height. Unlike the black Feegeeans—who are often bony and gaunt—the Tongans possess well-rounded arms and limbs; and the hands and feet, especially those of the women, are small and elegantly shaped.

To give a delineation of their features would be a difficult task—since these are so varied in different individuals, that it would be almost impossible to select a good typical face. Indeed the same might be said of nearly every nation on the face of the earth; and the difficulty will be understood by your making an attempt to describe some face that will answer for every set of features in a large town, or even a small village; or still, with greater limitation, for the different individuals of a single family. Just such a variety there will be found among the faces of the Friendly Islanders, as you might note in the inhabitants of an English town or county; and hence the difficulty of making a correct likeness. A few characteristic points, however, may be given, both as to their features and complexion. Their lips are scarcely ever of a thick or negro form; and although the noses are in general rounded at the end, this rule is not universal;—many have genuine Roman noses, and what may be termed a full set of the best Italian features. There is also less difference between the sexes in regard to their features than is usually seen elsewhere—those of the women being only distinguished by their less size.

The forms of the women constitute a more marked distinction; and among the beauties of Tonga are many that might be termed models in respect to shape and proportions. In color, the Tongans are lighter than most other South-Sea Islanders. Some of the better classes of women—those least exposed to the open air—show skins of a light olive tint; and the children of all are nearly white after birth. They become browner less from age than exposure to the sun; for, as soon as they are able to be abroad, they scarce ever afterwards enter under the shadow of a roof, except during the hours of night.

The Tongans have good eyes and teeth; but in this respect they are not superior to many other Oceanic tribes—even the black Feegeeans possessing both eyes and “ivories” scarce surpassed anywhere. The Tongans, however, have the advantage of their dusky neighbors in the matter of hair—their heads being clothed with a luxuriant growth of true hair. Sometimes it is quite straight, as among the American Indians, but oftener with a slight wave or undulation, or a curl approaching, but never quite arriving at the condition of “crisp.”

His hair in its natural color is jet black; and it is to be regretted that the Tongans have not the good taste to leave it to its natural hue. On the contrary, their fashion is to stain it of a reddish-brown, a purple or an orange. The brown is obtained by the application of burnt coral, the purple from a vegetable dye applied poultice-fashion to the hair, and the orange is produced by a copious lathering of common turmeric,—with which the women also sometimes anoint their bodies, and those of their children. This fashion of hair-dyeing is also common to the Feegees, and whether they obtained it from the Tongans, or the Tongans from them, is an unsettled point. The more probable hypothesis would be, that among many other ugly customs, it had its origin in Feegee-land,—where, however, the people assign a reason for practising it very different from the mere motive of ornament. They allege that it also serves a useful purpose, in preventing the too great fructification of a breed of parasitic insects,—that would otherwise find the immense mop of the frizzly Feegeean a most convenient dwelling-place, and a secure asylum from danger. This may have had something to do with the origin of the custom; but once established for purposes of utility, it is now confirmed, and kept up by the Tongans as a useless ornament. Their taste in the color runs exactly counter to that of European fashionables. What a pity it is that the two could not make an exchange of hair! Then both parties, like a pair of advertisements in the “Times,” would exactly _fit_ each other.

Besides the varied fashion in colors, there is also great variety in the styles in which the Tongans wear their hair. Some cut it short on one side of their head, leaving it at full length on the other; some shave a small patch, or cut off only a single lock; while others—and these certainly display the best taste—leave it to grow out in all its full luxuriance. In this, again, we find the European fashion reversed, for the women are those who wear it shortest. The men, although they are not without beard, usually crop this appendage very close, or shave it off altogether,—a piece of shell, or rather a pair of shells, serving them for a razor.

The mode is to place the thin edge of one shell underneath the hair,—just as a hair-cutter does his comb,—and with the edge of the other applied above, the hairs are rasped through and divided. There are regular barbers for this purpose, who by practice have been rendered exceedingly dexterous in its performance; and the victim of the operation alleges that there is little or no pain produced,—at all events, it does not bring the tears to his eyes, as a dull razor often does with us poor thin-skinned Europeans!

The dress of the Tongans is very similar to that of the Otaheitans, so often described and well known; but we cannot pass it here without remarking a notable peculiarity on the part of the Polynesian people, as exhibited in the character of their costume. The native tribes of almost all other warm climates content themselves with the most scant covering,—generally with no covering at all, but rarely with anything that may be termed a skirt. In South America most tribes wear the “guayuco,”—a mere strip around the loins, and among the Feegees the “malo” or “masi” of the men, and the scant “liku” of the women are the only excuse for a modest garment. In Africa we find tribes equally destitute of clothing, and the same remark will apply to the tropical countries all around the globe. Here, however, amongst a people dwelling in the middle of a vast ocean,—isolated from the whole civilized world, we find a natural instinct of modesty that does credit to their character, and is even in keeping with that character, as first observed by voyagers to the South Seas. Whatever acts of indelicacy may be alleged against the Otaheitans, this has been much exaggerated by their intercourse with immoral white men; but none of such criminal conduct can be charged against the natives of the Friendly Isles. On the contrary, the behavior of these, both among themselves and in presence of European visitors, has been ever characterized by a modesty that would shame either Regent Street or Ratcliffe Highway.

A description of the national costume of the Tongans, though often given, is not unworthy of a place here; and we shall give it as briefly as a proper understanding of it will allow. There is but one “garment” to be described, and that is the “pareu,” which will be better understood, perhaps, by calling it a “petticoat.” The material is usually of “tapa” cloth,—a fabric of native manufacture, to be described hereafter,—and the cutting out is one of the simplest of performances, requiring neither a tailor for the men, nor a dressmaker for the other sex, for every one can make their own pareu. It needs only to clip a piece of “tapa” cloth in the form of an “oblong square”—an ample one, being about two yards either way. This is wrapped round the body,—the middle part against the small of the back,—and then both ends brought round to the front are lapped over each other as far as they will go, producing, of course, a double fold of the cloth. A girdle is next tied around the waist,—usually a cord of ornamental plait; and this divides the piece of tapa into body and skirt. The latter is of such a length as to stretch below the calf of the leg,—sometimes down to the ankle,—and the upper part or body _would_ reach to the shoulders, if the weather required it, and often does _when the missionaries require it_. But not at any other time: such an ungraceful mode of wearing the pareu was never intended by the simple Tongans, who never dreamt of there being any immodesty in their fashion until told of it by their puritanical preceptors!

Tongan-fashion, the pareu is a sort of tunic, and a most graceful garment to boot; Methodist fashion, it becomes a gown or rather a sleeveless wrapper that resembles a sack. But if the body part is not to be used in this way, how, you will ask, is it to be disposed of? Is it allowed to hang down outside, like the gown of a slattern woman, who has only half got into it? No such thing. The natural arrangement is both simple and peculiar; and produces, moreover, a costume that is not only characteristic but graceful to the eye that once becomes used to it. The upper half of the tapa cloth is neatly folded or turned, until it becomes a thick roll; and this roll, brought round the body, just above the girdle, is secured in that position. The swell thus produced causes the waist to appear smaller by contrast; and the effect of a well-formed bust, rising above the roll of tapa cloth, is undoubtedly striking and elegant. In cold weather, but more especially at night, the roll is taken out, and the shoulders are then covered; for it is to be observed that the pareu, worn by day as a dress, is also kept on at night as a sleeping-gown, more especially by those who possess only a limited wardrobe. It is not always the cold that requires it to be kept on at night. It is more used, at this time, as a protection against the mosquitoes, that abound amidst the luxuriant vegetation of the Tongan Islands.

The “pareu” is not always made of the “tapa” cloth. Fine mats, woven from the fibres of the screw-pine (_pandanus_), are equally in vogue; and, upon festive occasions, a full-dress pareu is embellished with red feather-work, adding greatly to the elegance and picturesqueness of its appearance. A coarser and scantier pareu is to be seen among the poorer people, the material of which is a rough tapa, fabricated from the bark of the bread-fruit, and not unfrequently this is only a mere strip wrapped around the loins; in other words, a “malo,” “maro,” or “maso,”—as it is indifferently written in the varied orthography of the voyagers. Having described this only and unique garment, we have finished with the costume of the Tongan Islanders, both men and women,—for both wear the pareu alike. The head is almost universally uncovered; and no head-dress is ever worn unless a cap of feathers by the great chiefs, and this only upon rare and grand occasions. It is a sort of chaplet encircling the head, and deeper in front than behind. Over the forehead the plumes stand up to a height of twelve or fifteen inches, gradually lowering on each side as the ray extends backward beyond the ears. The main row is made with the beautiful tail-plumes of the tropic bird _Phaeton æthereus_, while the front or fillet part of the cap is ornamented with the scarlet feathers of a species of parrot.

The head-dress of the women consists simply of fresh flowers: a profusion of which—among others the beautiful blossoms of the orange—is always easily obtained. An ear-pendant is also worn,—a piece of ivory of about two inches in length, passed through two holes, pierced in the lobe of the ear for this purpose. The pendant hangs horizontally, the two holes balancing it, and keeping it in position. A necklace also of pearl-shells, shaped into beads, is worn. Sometimes a string of the seed of the pandanus is added, and an additional ornament is an armlet of mother-o’-pearl, fashioned into the form of a ring. Only the men tattoo themselves; and the process is confined to that portion of the body from the waist to the thighs, which is always covered with the pareu. The practice of tattooing perhaps first originated in the desire to equalize age with youth, and to hide an ugly physiognomy. But the Tongan Islander has no ugliness to conceal, and both men and women have had the good taste to refrain from disfiguring the fair features which nature has so bountifully bestowed upon them. The only marks of tattoo to be seen upon the women are a few fine lines upon the palms of their hands; nor do they disfigure their fair skins with the hideous pigments so much in use among other tribes, of what we are in the habit of terming savages.

They anoint the body with a fine oil procured from the cocoanut, and which is also perfumed by various kinds of flowers that are allowed to macerate in the oil; but this toilet is somewhat expensive, and is only practised by the better classes of the community. All, however, both rich and poor, are addicted to habits of extreme cleanliness, and bathing in fresh water is a frequent performance. They object to bathing in the sea; and when they do so, always finish the bath by pouring fresh water over their bodies,—a practice which they allege prevents the skin from becoming rough, which the sea-water would otherwise make it.

House architecture in the Tongan Islands is in rather a backward state. They have produced no Wrens nor Inigo Joneses; but this arises from a natural cause. They have no need for great architects,—scarce any need for houses either,—and only the richer Tongans erect any dwelling more pretentious than a mere shed. A few posts of palm-trunks are set up, and upon these are placed the cross-beams, rafters, and roof. Pandanus leaves, or those of the sugar-cane, form the thatch; and the sides are left open underneath. In the houses of the chiefs and more wealthy people there are walls of pandanus mats, fastened to the uprights; and some of these houses are of considerable size and neatly built. The interiors are kept scrupulously clean,—the floors being covered with beautiful mats woven in colored patterns, and presenting all the gay appearance of costly carpeting. There are neither chairs nor tables. The men sit tailor-fashion, and the women in a reclining posture, with both limbs turned a little to one side and backwards. A curious enclosure or partition is formed by setting a stiff mat, of about two feet width, upon its edge,—the roll at each end steadying it and keeping it in an upright position.

The utensils to be observed are dishes, bowls, and cups,—usually of calabash or cocoa-shells,—and an endless variety of baskets of the most ingenious plait and construction. The “stool-pillow” is also used; but differing from that of the Feegees in the horizontal piece having a hollow to receive the head. Many kinds of musical instruments may be seen,—the Pandean pipes, the nose-flute, and various kinds of bamboo drums, all of which have been minutely described by travellers. I am sorry to add that war-clubs and spears for a similar purpose are also to be observed conspicuous among the more useful implements of peace. Bows and arrows, too, are common; but these are only employed for shooting birds and small rodents, especially rats, that are very numerous and destructive to the crops.

For food, the Tongans have the pig,—the same variety as is so generally distributed throughout the Oceanic Islands. It is stated that the Feegeeans obtained this animal from the Friendly Isles; but I am of opinion that in this case the benefit came the other way, as the _Sus Papua_ is more likely to have entered the South Sea from its leeward rather than its windward side. In all likelihood the dog may have been derived from the eastern edge; but the pigs and poultry would seem to be of western origin,—western as regards the position of the Pacific.

The principal food of the Friendly Islanders, however, is of a vegetable nature, and consists of yams, bread-fruit, taro, plantains, sweet potatoes, and, in fact, most of those roots and fruits common to the other islands of the Pacific. Fish also forms an important article of their food. They drink the “kava,” or juice of the _Piper methisticum_—or rather of its roots chewed to a pulp; but they rarely indulge to that excess observed among the Feegees, and they are not over fond of the drink, except as a means of producing a species of intoxication which gives them a momentary pleasure. Many of them, especially the women, make wry faces while partaking of it; and no wonder they do, for it is at best a disgusting beverage.

The time of the Tongan Islanders is passed pleasantly enough, when there is no wicked war upon hand. The men employ themselves in cultivating the ground or fishing; and here the woman is no longer the mere slave and drudge—as almost universally elsewhere among savage or even semi-civilized nations. This is a great fact, which tells a wondrous tale—which speaks trumpet-tongued to the credit of the Tongan Islander. Not only do the men share the labor with their more delicate companions, but everything else—their food, conversation, and every enjoyment of life. Both partake alike—eat together, drink together, and join at once in the festive ceremony. In their grand dances—or balls as they might more properly be termed—the women play an important part; and these exhibitions, though in the open air, are got up with an elegance and éclat that would not disgrace the most fashionable ball-room in Christendom. Their dances, indeed, are far more graceful than anything ever seen either at “Almacks” or the “Jardin Mabille.”