The house described is not universal throughout all the group. There are many “orders” of architecture, and that prevailing in the Windward Islands is different from the style of the Leeward, and altogether of a better kind. Different districts have different forms. In one you may see a village looking like an assemblage of wicker baskets, while in another you might fancy it a collection of rustic arbours. A third seems a collection oblong hayricks, with holes in their sides; while, in a fourth these ricks are conical.
It will be seen that, with this variety in housebuilding, it would be a tedious task to illustrate the complete architecture of Feegeeans. Even Master Kuskin himself would surrender it up in despair.
Equally tedious would it be to describe the various implements or utensils which a Feegee house contains. The furniture is simple enough. There are neither chairs, tables, nor bedsteads. The bed is a beautiful mat spread on the däis, or divan; and in the houses of the rich the floors are covered with a similar carpet. These mats are of the finest texture, far superior to those made elsewhere. The materials used are the Hibiscus tiliaceus, Pandanus odoratissimus, and a species of rush. They are in great abundance in every house,—even the poorest person having his mat to sit or lie upon; and it is they that serve for the broad-spreading sails of the gigantic canoes. In addition to the mats, plenty of tapa cloth may be seen, and baskets of every shape and size,—the wicker being obtained from the rattan (flagellaria), and other sources. One piece of furniture deserves especial mention,—this is the pillow upon which the Feegee lord lays his head when he goes to sleep. It presents but little claim to the appellation of a downy pillow; since it is a mere cylinder of hard polished wood, with short arched pedestals to it, to keep it firmly in its place. Its object is to keep the great frizzled mop from being tossed or disarranged, during the hours of repose; and Feegeean vanity enables the owner of the mop to endure this flinty bolster with the most uncomplaining equanimity. If he were possessed of the slightest spark of conscience, even this would be soft, compared with any pillow upon which he might rest his guilty head.
In addition to the baskets, other vessels meet the eye. These are of pottery, as varied in shape and size as they are in kind. There are pots and pans, bowls, dishes, cups and saucers, jars and bottles,—many of them of rare and curious designs,—some red, some ornamented with a glaze obtained from the gum of the kauri pine,—for this tree is also an indigenous production of the Feegee Islands. Though no potter’s wheel is known to the Feegees, the proportions of their vessels are as just and true, and their polish as complete, as if Stafford had produced them. There are cooking-pots to be seen of immense size. These are jars formed with mouths wide enough to admit the largest joint. I dare not mention the kind of joint that is frequently cooked in those great caldrons. Ugh! the horrid pots!
Their implements are equally varied and numerous,—some for manufacturing purposes, and others for agriculture. The latter are of the simplest kind. The Feegee plough is merely a pointed stick inserted deeply into the ground, and kept moving about till a lump of the soil is broken upward. This is crushed into mould, first by a light club, and afterwards pulverised with the fingers. The process is slow, but fast enough for the Feegeean, whose farm is only a garden. He requires no plough, neither bullocks nor horses. With taro-roots and sweet potatoes that weigh ten pounds each, yams and yaqonas over one hundred, and plantains producing bunches of a hundred and fifty fruits to the single head, why need he trouble himself by breaking up more surface? His single acre yields him as much vegetable wealth as fifty would to an English farmer!
It is not to be supposed that he has it all to himself; no, nor half of it either; nor yet the fifth part of it. At least four fifths of his sweat has to be expended in tax or tithe; and this brings us to the form of his government. We shall not dwell long upon this subject. Suffice it to say that the great body of the people are in a condition of abject serfdom,—worse than slavery itself. They own nothing that they can call their own,—not their wives,—not their daughters,—not even their lives! All these may be taken from them at any hour. There is no law against despoiling them,—no check upon the will and pleasure of their chiefs or superiors; and, as these constitute a numerous body, the poor canaille have no end of ruffian despoilers. It is an everyday act for a chief to rob, or club to death, one of the common people! and no unfrequent occurrence to be himself clubbed to death by his superior, the king! Of these kings there are eight in Feegee,—not one, as the old song has it; but the words of the ballad will apply to each of them with sufficient appropriateness. Any one of them will answer to the character of “Musty-fusty-shang?”
These kings have their residences on various islands, and the different parts of the group are distributed somewhat irregularly under their rule. Some islands, or parts of islands, are only tributary to them; others connected by a sort of deferential alliance; and there are communities quite independent, and living under the arbitrary sway of their own chieftains. The kings are not all of equal power or importance; but in this respect there have been many changes, even during the Feegeean historical period,—which extends back only to the beginning of the present century. Sometimes one is the most influential, sometimes another; and in most cases the pre-eminence is obtained by him who possesses the greatest amount of truculence and treachery. He who is most successful in murdering his rivals, and ridding himself of opposition, by the simple application of the club, usually succeeds in becoming for the time head “king of the Cannibal Islands.” I do not mean that he reigns over the whole Archipelago. No king has yet succeeded in uniting all the islands under one government. He only gets so far as to be feared everywhere, and to have tributary presents, and all manner of debasing compliments offered to him. These kings have all their courts and court etiquette, just as their “royal brothers” elsewhere; and the ceremonials observed are quite as complicated and degrading to the dignity of man.
The punishment for neglecting their observance is rather more severe in Feegee than elsewhere. For a decided or wilful non-compliance, the skull of the delinquent is frequently crushed in by the club of his majesty himself,—even in presence of a full “drawing-room.” Lesser or accidental mistakes, or even the exhibition of an ungraceful gaucherie, are punished by the loss of a finger: the consequence of which is, that in Feegee there are many fingers missing! Indeed, a complete set is rather the exception than the rule. If a king or great chief should chance to miss his foot and slip down, it is the true ton for all those who are near or around him to fall likewise,—the crowd coming down, literally like a “thousand of bricks!”
I might detail a thousand customs to show how far the dignity of the human form is debased and disgraced upon Feegee soil; but the subject could be well illustrated nearer home. Flunkeyism is a fashion unfortunately not confined to the Feegeean archipelago; and though the forms in which it exhibits itself there may be different, the sentiment is still the same. It must ever appear where men are politically unequal,—wherever there is a class possessed of hereditary privileges.
I come to the last,—the darkest feature in the Feegeean character,—the horrid crime and custom of cannibalism. I could paint a picture, and fill up the details with the testimony of scores of eyewitnesses,—a picture that would cause your heart to weep. It is too horrid to be given here. My pen declines the office; and, therefore, I must leave the painful story untold.