Chapter 109
However, according to the American ethnologist, Horatio Hale, some of the Samoans agreed with the Tongans in taking an aristocratic view of the destiny of souls after death; and as he had good opportunities for acquainting himself with the Samoan religion during the prolonged stay of the American Exploring Expedition at Samoa in 1839, when the islands were as yet but little affected by European influence, I will quote his account. He says: "All believe in the existence of a large island, situated far to the north-west called _Pulotu_, which is the residence of the G.o.ds. Some suppose that while the souls of the common people perish with their bodies, those of the chiefs are received into this island, which is described as a terrestrial elysium, and become there inferior divinities. Others hold (according to Mr. Heath) that the spirits of the departed live and work in a dark subterraneous abode, and are eaten by the G.o.ds. A third, and very common opinion is, that the souls of all who die on an island, make their way to the western extremity, where they plunge into the sea; but what then becomes of them is not stated. The rock from which they leap, in the island of Upolu, was pointed out to us; the natives term it '_Fatu-asofia_,' which was rendered the 'jumping-off stone.'"[167]
[167] H. Hale, _Ethnography and Philology of the United States Exploring Expedition_, p. 27.
Of these various opinions described by Hale the third would seem to have been by far the most prevalent. It was commonly believed that the disembodied spirit retained the exact resemblance of its former self, by which we are probably to understand the exact resemblance of its former body. Immediately on quitting its earthly tabernacle it began its solitary journey to Fafa, which was the subterranean abode of the dead, lying somewhere to the west of Savaii, the most westerly island of the group. Thus, if a man died in Manua, the most easterly of the islands, his soul would journey to the western end of that island, then dive into the sea and swim across to Tutuila. There it would walk along the beach to the extreme westerly point of the island, when it would again plunge into the sea and swim across to the next island, and so on to the most westerly cape of Savaii, where it finally dived into the ocean and pursued its way to the mysterious Fafa.[168]
[168] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 218 _sq._ Compare G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 257; S. Ella, _op. cit._ pp. 643 _sq._
At the western end of Savaii, near the village of Falealupo, there are two circular openings among the rocks, not far from the beach. Down these two openings the souls of the dead were supposed to go on their pa.s.sage to the spirit-world. The souls of chiefs went down the larger of the openings, and the souls of common people went down the smaller. Near the spot stood a coco-nut tree, and if a pa.s.sing soul chanced to collide with it, the soul could not proceed farther, but returned to its body.
When a man recovered from a deep swoon, his friends supposed that his soul had been arrested in its progress to the other world by knocking against the coco-nut tree, and they rejoiced, saying, "He has come back from the tree of the Watcher," for that was the name by which the coco-nut tree was known. So firmly did the people of the neighbourhood believe in the pa.s.sage of the souls near their houses, that at night they kept down the blinds to exclude the ghosts.[169] The "jumping-off stone" at the west end of Upolu was also dreaded on account of the pa.s.sing ghosts. The place is a narrow rocky cape. The Samoans were much astonished when a Christian native boldly built himself a house on the haunted spot.[170] According to one account, the souls of the dead had not to make their way through the chain of islands by the slow process of walking and swimming, but were at once transported to the western end of Savaii by a band of spirits, who hovered over the house of the dying man, and catching up his parting spirit conveyed it in a straight course westward.[171]
[169] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 257 _sq._; S. Ella, _op.
cit._ pp. 643 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p.
221.
[170] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, p. 219.
[171] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 257; S. Ella, _op. cit._ p. 643.
The place down which the spirits of the dead were supposed to descend to the nether world was called by a native name (_Lua[=o]_), which means "hollow pit." "May you go rumbling down the hollow pit" was a common form of cursing. At the bottom of the pit was a running stream which floated the spirits away to Pulotu. All alike, the handsome and the ugly, old and young, chiefs and commoners, drifted pell-mell on the current in a dazed, semi-conscious state, till they came to Pulotu.
There they bathed in "the Water of Life" and recovered all their old life and vigour. Infirmity of every kind fled away; even the aged became young again. The underworld of Pulotu was conceived on the model of our upper world. There, as here, were heavens and earth and sea, fruits and flowers; there the souls of the dead planted and fished and cooked; there they married and were given in marriage, all after the manner of life on earth.[172]
[172] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 258 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 222.
However, it appears that according to a widespread belief the world of the dead was sharply discriminated into two regions, to wit, an Elysium or place of bliss called Pulotu, and a Tartarus or place of woe named S[=a]-le-Fe'e. The t.i.tle for admission to one or other of these places was not moral worth but social rank, chiefs going to Elysium and commoners to Tartarus. The idea of the superiority of the chiefs to the common people was thus perpetuated in the land of the dead.[173] The king of the lower regions was a certain Saveasiuleo, that is, Savea of the Echo. He reclined in a house in the company of the chiefs who gathered round him: the upper part of his body was human, the lower part was like that of a fish and stretched away into the sea. This royal house of a.s.sembly was supported by the erect bodies of chiefs, who had been of high rank on earth, and who, before they died, antic.i.p.ated with pride the honour they were to enjoy by serving as pillars in the temple of the King of Pulotu.[174]
[173] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 217 _sq._; G.
Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 221. On the question whether the Samoans held a doctrine of moral retribution after death, Dr. Brown observes: "I do not remember any statement to the effect that the conduct of a man in this life affected his state after death. They certainly believe this now, but whether they did so prior to the introduction of Christianity I cannot definitely say. I am inclined, however, to believe that they did not believe that conduct in this life affected them in the future" (_Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 261 _sq._).
Elsewhere, however, Dr. Brown seems to
[174] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 259 _sq._; S. Ella, _op.
cit._ p. 644.
But the souls of the dead were not permanently confined to the lower world. They could return to the land of the living by night to hold converse with members of their families, to warn and instruct them in dreams, and to foretell the future. They could cause disease and death by entering into the bodies of their enemies and even of their friends, and they produced nightmare by sitting on the chests of sleepers. They haunted some houses and especially burying-grounds. Their apparitions were visible to the living and were greatly dreaded; people tried to drive them away by shouts, noises, and the firing of guns. But the ghosts had to return to the nether world at daybreak. It was because they feared the spirits of the dead that the Samoans took such great pains to propitiate dying people with presents; this they did above all to persons whom they had injured, because they had most reason to dread the anger of their ghosts.[175] However, the souls of the departed were also thought of in a more amiable light; they could help as well as harm mankind. Hence prayers were commonly offered at the grave of a parent, a brother, or a chief. The suppliant, for example, might pray for health in sickness; or, if he were of a malignant turn, he might implore the ghost to compa.s.s the death of some person at whom he bore a grudge. Thus we are told that a woman prayed for the death of her brother, and he died accordingly.[176] In such beliefs and practices we have, as I have already observed, the essential elements of a regular wors.h.i.+p of the dead. Whether the Samoans were on the way to evolve such a religion or, as Dr. George Brown preferred to suppose,[177] had left it behind them and made some progress towards a higher faith, we hardly possess the means of determining.
[175] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 259; S. Ella, _op. cit._ p. 644; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp.
219, 221, 222.
[176] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 151.
[177] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 245, 282.
But while the Samoans thought that the dead return to earth to make or mar the living, they did not believe that the spirits come back to be born again in the form of men or animals or to occupy inanimate bodies; in other words they had no belief in the transmigration of souls.[178]
The absence of such a belief is significant in view of Dr. Rivers's suggestion that Melanesian totemism may have been evolved out of a doctrine of metempsychosis, human souls being supposed to pa.s.s at death into their totem animals or plants.[179] We have seen that the Samoan system of family, village, and district G.o.ds bears strong marks of having been developed out of totemism; and if their totemism had in turn been developed out of a doctrine of transmigration, we should expect to find among them a belief that the souls of the dead appeared in the shape of the animals, plants, or other natural objects which were regarded as the embodiments of their family, village, or district G.o.ds.
But of such a belief there is seemingly no trace. It appears, therefore, unlikely that Samoan totemism was based on a doctrine of transmigration.
Similarly we have seen reason to think that the Tongan wors.h.i.+p of animals may have sprung from totemism, though according to the best authorities that wors.h.i.+p was not connected with a theory of metempsychosis.[180] Taken together, the Samoan and the Tongan systems seem to show that, if totemism ever flourished among the Polynesians, it had not its roots in a wors.h.i.+p of the dead.
[178] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 221, "They had no belief in the transmigration of souls either into animals, inert bodies, or into different human bodies."
[179] W. H. R. Rivers, _The History of Melanesian Society_, ii. 358 _sqq._
[180] See above, pp. 92 _sqq._
CHAPTER IV
THE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE HERVEY ISLANDERS
-- 1. _The Hervey or Cook Islands_
The Hervey or Cook Archipelago is a scattered group of nine small islands situated in the South Pacific about seven hundred miles south-east of Samoa. The islands are either volcanic or coralline, and approach to them is impeded by dangerous reefs and the absence of harbours.[1] The two princ.i.p.al islands are Rarotonga and Mangaia, the most southerly of the group. Of these the larger, Rarotonga, has a circ.u.mference of about thirty miles. It is a vast ma.s.s of volcanic mountains, rising peak above peak, to a height of between four and five thousand feet above the sea; but from the foot of the mountains a stretch of flat land, covered with rich alluvial soil, extends for one or two miles to the coast, which is formed by a fringing reef of live coral. The whole island is mantled in luxuriant tropical verdure. It is difficult, we are told, to exaggerate the strange forms of beauty which everywhere meet the eye in this lovely island: gigantic and fantastic columns of rock draped with vines; deep valleys lying in the shadow of overhanging mountains; primaeval forest with its many shades of green; immense chestnut trees, laden with fragrant blossoms; miles of bread-fruit groves, intermingled with coco-nut palms; and nearer the beach plantains, bananas, sweet potatoes, and lastly, growing to the water's edge, graceful iron-wood trees with hair-like leaves drooping like tresses, all contribute to the variety and charm of the scenery.[2]
[1] F. H. H. Guillemard, _Australasia_, ii. (London, 1894) p.
509.
[2] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_ (London, N.D.), p.
11. Compare John Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands_ (London, 1838), pp. 16, 174-176.
According to Dr. Guillemard (_loc. cit._), the height of Rarotonga is 2900 feet; according to W. W. Gill, our princ.i.p.al authority on the island, it is 4500 feet.
Very different is the aspect of Mangaia. It is a complete coral island rising from deep water as a ring of live coral; there is no lagoon. A few hundred yards inland from the rugged beach there rises gradually a second or inner ring of dead coral, which towards the interior falls away perpendicularly, thus surrounding the island like a cyclopean wall.
This belt or bulwark of dead coral is from one to two miles wide. To cross it is like walking on spear-points: to slip and fall on it may entail ghastly wounds. The streams of water from the interior find their way through it to the sea by subterranean channels. Imbedded in the highest parts of this inland reef of coral are many sea-sh.e.l.ls of existing species, and it is honeycombed with many extensive caves, which were formerly used as dwellings, cemeteries, places of refuge, or storehouses. Scores of them are filled with desiccated human bodies. So vast are they that it is dangerous to venture alone into their recesses; the forlorn wanderer might never emerge from them again. Some of them are said to penetrate far under the bed of the ocean. In these caverns stalact.i.te and stalagmite abound, forming thick and fast-growing layers of limestone rock. The largest and most famous of the caves is known as the Labyrinth (_Tuatini_). The interior of the island is formed of dark volcanic rock and red clay, descending in low hills from a flat-topped centre, called the Crown of Mangaia. The summit is not more than six hundred and fifty feet above the level of the sea.[3]
[3] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_. pp. 7 _sq._; _id._, _From Darkness to Light in Polynesia_ (London, 1894), pp.
6 _sq._; A. Baessler, _Neue Sudsee-Bilder_ (Berlin, 1900), pp.
271 _sqq._, 274 _sqq._ (as to the caverns).
-- 2. _The Islanders and their Mode of Life_
Though the natives speak a Polynesian language closely akin to the Samoan and have legends of their migration from Samoa, they appear not to be pure Polynesians. They say that they found black people on Rarotonga; and their more p.r.o.nounced features, more wavy hair, darker complexion, and more energetic character seem to indicate an admixture of Melanesian blood. In Mangaia, indeed, this type is said to predominate, the natives of that island being characterised by dusky brown skin, wavy or frizzly hair, and ample beards: their features, too, are more prominent than those of the Rarotongans, and their manners are wilder.[4] Cannibalism prevailed in most of the islands of the group down to the conversion of the natives to Christianity, which took place between 1823 and 1834, when, with the exception of a few pagans in Mangaia, there did not remain a single idolater, or vestige of idolatry, in any one of the islands. However, many years afterwards old men, who had partaken of cannibal feasts, a.s.sured a missionary that human flesh was far superior to pork.[5]
[4] F. H. H. Guillemard, _Australasia_, ii. 509. Compare A.
Baessler, _Neue Sudsee-Bilder_, pp. 257 _sq._, 269. The latter writer remarks on the great variety of types among the natives of these islands. In Mangaia he found the people darker than in Rarotonga, undersized, st.u.r.dy, with thick lips, noses broad and sunken at the bridge, which gave them a somewhat wild appearance. As to the tradition of an emigration of the Hervey Islanders from Samoa, see W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, pp. 23 _sqq._ "The Mangaians themselves trace their origin to Avaiki, or nether world; but Avaiki, Hawai'i, and Savai'i, are but slightly different forms of one word. The _s_ of the Samoan dialect is invariably dropped in the Hervey Group dialects, whilst a _k_ is subst.i.tuted for the break at the end.
No native of these days doubts that by Avaiki his ancestors really intended Savai'i, the largest island of the Samoan Group.
In Polynesia, to sail _west_ is to go _down_; to sail _east_ is to go _up_. To sail from Samoa to Mangaia would be 'to come up,'
or, to translate their vernacular closely, 'to climb up.' In their songs and myths are many references to 'the hosts of _Uk_upolu,' undoubtedly the Upolu of Samoa" (W. W. Gill, _op.
cit._ p. 25). Compare _id._, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_ (London, 1876), pp. 166 _sq._
[5] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, pp. 13 _sq._; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _Report of the Second Meeting of the Australasian a.s.sociation for the Advancement of Science held at Melbourne, 1890_, p. 324. As to the date of the introduction of Christianity into the Hervey Islands, see John Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands_, pp. 491 _sq._
In the larger islands the natives cultivated the soil diligently even before their contact with Europeans. The missionary John Williams, who discovered Rarotonga in 1823, found the island in a high state of cultivation. Rows of superb chestnut trees (_inocarpus_), planted at equal distances, stretched from the base of the mountains to the sea, while the s.p.a.ces between the rows, some half a mile wide, were divided into taro patches, each about half an acre in extent, carefully banked up and capable of being irrigated at pleasure. On the tops of the banks grew fine bread-fruit trees placed at equal intervals, their stately foliage presenting a pleasing contrast to the pea-green leaves of the ordinary taro and the dark colour of the giant taro (_kape_) in the beds and on the sloping banks beneath.[6] In Rarotonga bread-fruit and plantains are the staple food; in Mangaia it is taro. On the atolls the coco-nut palm flourishes, but no planting can be done, as the soil consists of sand and gravel thrown up by the sea on the ever-growing coral. The inhabitants of the atolls live contentedly on coco-nuts and fish; they are expert fishermen, having little else to do. But fresh fish are also eaten in large quant.i.ties on most of the islands.[7] In some of the islands the planting was done by the women, but in others, including Rarotonga, the taro was both planted and brought home by the men. Women cooked the food in ovens of hot stones sunk in holes, and they made cloth from the bark of the paper-mulberry, which they stripped from the tree, steeped in water, and beat out with square mallets of iron-wood. But garments were made also from the inner bark of the banyan and bread-fruit trees.[8] In the old days the native houses were flimsy quadrangular huts constructed of reeds and thatched with plaited leaflets of the coco-nut palm, which were very pervious to rain; but the temples and large houses of chiefs were thatched with panda.n.u.s leaves.
The doors were always sliding; the threshold was made of a single block of timber, tastefully carved. There was a sacred and a common entrance.[9] Like all the Polynesians, the Hervey Islanders before their discovery were ignorant of the metals. When in a wrecked vessel they found a bag of Californian gold, they thought it was something good to eat and proceeded to cook the nuggets in order to make them juicy and tender.[10]
[6] John Williams, _op. cit._ pp. 175 _sq._
[7] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, pp. 12, 15; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _Report of the Second Meeting of the Australasian a.s.sociation for the Advancement of Science held at Melbourne, 1890_, p. 336.