Not only is this smoothness and fairness one of their distinguishing marks, but they also are characterized by a sort of languor in their movements and timidity in their carriage, very unlike the demeanor of the bold and warlike Tongans and Samoans. “This observation,” writes Captain Cook, “is fully verified in their boxing and wrestling, which may be called little better than the feeble efforts of children, if compared to the vigor with which those exercises are performed at the Friendly Islands.”
They are so careful of their complexion that when they think their skins are becoming darkened by exposure to the sun, they have a mode of bleaching themselves. Captain Cook merely mentions that they remain within doors for a month or two, wear great quantities of clothing, and eat nothing but bread-fruit, this diet being supposed by them to have a strong bleaching power. It is probable, however, that besides the diet and the confinement within the house, they also employ some preparation similar to that which is used by the Marquesan women under similar circumstances.
The Tahitans place such reliance on the effect of food on complexion, that they believe themselves to change the hue of their skins several times in the year, owing to the kind of food on which, owing to the change of season, they are obliged to live. They do not, however, like many nations, think that corpulence is a mark of rank and wealth.
That fairness of skin and roundness of form which detract from the manly beauty of the male sex only add to the feminine charms of the women, who are far more beautiful even than those of Tonga, while they infinitely surpass the short, thickset women of the Marquesans. A Tahitan woman would be reckoned beautiful even among Europeans, the skin being fairer than that of many a Spanish girl, and the large full eyes and rich hair having a fascination peculiar to themselves, a charm which many travellers have endeavored to describe, and all, according to their own statements, have failed to convey in words.
Yet the lot of the Tongan women is far superior to that of the Tahitan. As we have already seen, the woman of Tonga is by no means the mere slave of the despotic husband, but is often his true helpmeet and best adviser. Among the Tahitans, however, we find that the effeminate, smooth-limbed, long-haired, fair-skinned man, who would not abide the charge of a Tongan boy, is a very tyrant at home, having no idea that women can be anything but chattels, and beating his wives, his dogs, or his pigs, with equal disregard of their feelings.
The women are not allowed to eat of various kinds of food, as they would offend the gods by so doing, and it is a remarkable coincidence that the gods do not permit the women to eat exactly those articles of food which the man likes best, such, for example, as turtle, and certain kinds of fish and plantain.
Neither are the women allowed to eat with their husbands, but take their meals in a separate part of the house. This prohibition is the more galling because, in a well-to-do Tahitan’s family, eating goes on all day with very short intervals. The family breakfast at eight, and have a first dinner or luncheon at eleven. Thus invigorated, they are able to wait until two, when they take their first dinner. This is followed by a second dinner at five and supper at eight, after which they retire to rest. But as it is manifestly impossible to go without food for twelve hours, they awake at two, take another meal, or “rere-supper,” and sleep again until daybreak.
As to the turtle, a certain sort of sanctity is attached to it. When one of these reptiles is caught, it is always sent to the king, who, however, does not cook so sacred a creature in his own house, but sends it to the temple, where it is offered to the idol. It is cooked in the marae, or sacred enclosure, and, after a portion has been taken by the priest for the idol, the remainder is sent back to the king. Unless this offering were made, the offender would immediately suffer from the vengeance of the offended god.
This custom was exploded by Pomaré about 1820. The king had long believed that the idols were nothing more than images, and that the gods were but human inventions, and determined to try the subject by a crucial test. He waited until his subjects had caught a turtle, and sent it to him according to the custom of the island. Instead of sending it to the marae, he had the turtle taken to his own kitchen and cooked there. It was then served up, and his whole household sat down with him to partake of it. No one, however, except the king, had the courage to eat a mouthful, and even Pomaré himself was in a state of nervous trepidation, and had very little appetite when he came to apply his test. However, he was a man of great moral courage, and though he could not eat much of the royal dainty, he ate enough to bring down upon him the wrath of the god.
Finding that no harm happened to him, he convened an assembly of the chiefs, and narrated the whole of the circumstances, telling them they were free to act as they liked, but that for his part he abjured idolatry from that time. The consequence was, that of their own accord the people voluntarily abandoned their idols, and either gave them to the missionaries, used them as seats, or put them in the fire with which food is cooked, the last proceeding being the very depth of degradation.