I very often heard the feeling, attachment, and kindness of this people spoken of in terms of high praise, with which, however, I cannot unreservedly agree. Their kindness I will not precisely dispute; they readily invite a stranger to share their hospitality, and even kill a pig in his honour, give him a part of their couch, etc.; but all this costs them no trouble, and if they are offered money in return, they take it eagerly enough, without so much as thanking the donor. As for feeling and attachment, I should almost be inclined to deny that they possessed them in the slightest degree; I saw only sensuality, and none of the nobler sentiments. I shall return to this subject when describing my journey through the island.
On the 1st of May I witnessed a highly interesting scene. It was the fête of Louis Philippe, the King of the French; and the governor, Monsieur Bruat, exerted himself to the utmost to amuse the population of Tahiti. In the forenoon, there was a tournament on the water, in which the French sailors were the performers. Several boats with lusty oarsmen put out to sea. In the bows of each boat was a kind of ladder or steps, on which stood one of the combatants with a pole. The boats were then pulled close to one another, and each combatant endeavoured to push his antagonist into the water. Besides this, there was a Mât de Cocagne, with coloured shirts, ribbons, and other trifles fluttering at the top, for whoever chose to climb up and get them. At 12 o’clock the chiefs and principal personages were entertained at dinner. On the grass plot before the governor’s house were heaped up various sorts of provisions, such as salt meat, bacon, bread, baked pork, fruits, etc.; but instead of the guests taking their places all around, as we had supposed they would have done, the chiefs divided everything into different portions, and each carried his share home. In the evening there were fireworks, and a ball.
No part of the entertainment amused me more than the ball, where I witnessed the most startling contrasts of art and nature. Elegant Frenchwomen side by side with their brown, awkward sisters, and the staff officers in full uniform, in juxta-position with the half-naked islanders. Many of the natives wore, on this occasion, broad white trousers, with a shirt over them; but there were others who had no other garments than the ordinary short shirt and the pareo. One of the chiefs who appeared in this costume, and was afflicted with Elephantiasis, [{76}] offered a most repulsive spectacle.
This evening I saw Queen Pomaré for the first time. She is a woman of 36 years of age, tall and stout, but tolerably well preserved—as a general rule, I found that the women here fade much less quickly than in other warm climates—her face is far from ugly, and there is a most good-natured expression round her mouth, and the lower portion of her face. She was enveloped in a sky-blue satin gown, or rather, sort of blouse, ornamented all round with two rows of rich black blond. She wore large jessamine blossoms in her ears, and a wreath of flowers in her hair, while in her hand she carried a fine pocket handkerchief beautifully embroidered, and ornamented with broad lace. In honour of the evening, she had forced her feet into shoes and stockings, though on other occasions she went barefoot. The entire costume was a present from the King of the French.
The queen’s husband, who is younger than herself, is the handsomest man in Tahiti. The French jokingly call him the Prince Albert of Tahiti, not only on account of his good looks, but because, like Prince Albert in England, he is not named “the king,” but simply, “the queen’s consort.” He had on the uniform of a French general, which became him very well; the more so, that he was not in the least embarrassed in it. The only drawback were his feet, which were very ugly and awkward.
Besides these two high personages, there was in the company another crowned head, namely, King Otoume, the owner of one of the neighbouring islands. He presented a most comical appearance, having put on, over a pair of full but short white trousers, a bright yellow calico coat, that most certainly had not been made by a Parisian artiste, for it was a perfect model of what a coat ought not to be. This monarch was barefoot.
The queen’s ladies of honour, four in number, as well as most of the wives and daughters of the chiefs, were dressed in white muslin. They had also flowers in their ears, and garlands in their hair. Their behaviour and deportment were surprising, and three of the young ladies actually danced French quadrilles with the officers, without making a fault in the figures. I was only anxious for their feet, as no one, save the royal couple, wore either shoes or stockings. Some of the old women had arrayed themselves in European bonnets, while the young ones brought their children, even the youngest, with them, and, to quiet the latter, suckled them without ceremony before the company.
Before supper was announced, the queen disappeared in an adjoining room to smoke a cigar or two, while her husband passed the time in playing billiards.
At table I was seated between Prince Albert of Tahiti and the canary-coloured King Otoume. They were both sufficiently advanced in the rules of good breeding to show me the usual civilities; that is, to fill my glass with water or wine, to hand me the various dishes, and so on; but it was evident that they were at great trouble to catch the tone of European society. Some of the guests, however, forgot their parts now and then: the queen, for instance, asked, during the dessert, for a second plate, which she filled with sweetmeats, and ordered to be put on one side for her to take home with her. Others had to be prevented from indulging too much in the generous champagne; but, on the whole, the entertainment passed off in a becoming and good-humoured manner.
I subsequently dined with the royal family several times at the governor’s. The queen then appeared in the national costume, with the coloured pareo and chemise, as did also her husband. Both were barefoot. The heir apparent, a boy of nine years old, is affianced to the daughter of a neighbouring king. The bride, who is a few years older than the prince, is being educated at the court of Queen Pomaré, and instructed in the Christian religion, and the English and Tahitian languages.