Odd People: Being a Popular Description of Singular Races of Man

Besides the varied fashion in colours, 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 civilised 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 behaviour of these, both among themselves and in presence of European visitors, has been ever characterised 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 breadfruit, 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 aetherus, 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 seeds 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 equalise 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 coloured 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, breadfruit, 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-civilised 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 labour 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 ballroom in Christendom. Their dances, indeed, are far more graceful than anything ever seen either at “Almacks” or the “Jardin Mabille.”

The principal employment of the men is in the cultivation of their yam and plantain grounds, many of which extend to the size of fields, with fences that would almost appear to have been erected as ornaments. These are of canes, closely set, raised to the height of six feet – wide spaces being left between the fences of different owners to serve as roads for the whole community. In the midst of these fields stand the sheds, or houses, surrounded by splendid forms of tropic vegetation, and forming pictures of a softly beautiful character.

The men also occupy themselves in the construction of their canoes, – to procure the large ones, making a voyage as already stated, to the Feegee Islands, and sometimes remaining absent for several years.

These, however, are usually professional boat-builders, and form but a very small proportion of the forty thousand people who inhabit the different islands of the Tongan archipelago.

The men also occasionally occupy themselves in weaving mats and wicker baskets, and carving fancy toys out of wood and shells; but the chief part of the manufacturing business is in the hands of the women – more especially the making of the tapa cloth, already so often mentioned. An account of the manufacture may be here introduced, with the proviso, that it is carried on not only by the women of the Feegee group, but by those of nearly all the other Polynesian Islands. There are slight differences in the mode of manufacture, as well as in the quality of the fabric; but the account here given, both of the making and dyeing, will answer pretty nearly for all.

The bark of the malo-tree, or “paper-mulberry,” is taken off in strips, as long as possible, and then steeped in water, to facilitate the separation of the epidermis, which is effected by a large volute shell. In this state it is kept for some time, although fit for immediate use. A log, flattened on the upper side, is so fixed as to spring a little, and on this the strips of bark – or masi, as it is called – are beaten with an iki, or mallet, about two inches square, and grooved longitudinally on three of its sides. Two lengths of the wet masi are generally beaten together, in order to secure greater strength – the gluten which they contain being sufficient to keep their fibres united. A two-inch strip can thus be beaten out to the width of a foot and a half; but the length is at the same time reduced. The pieces are neatly lapped together with the starch of the taro, or arrowroot, boiled whole; and thus reach a length of many yards. The “widths” are also joined by the same means laterally, so as to form pieces of fifteen or thirty feet square; and upon these, the ladies exhaust their ornamenting skill. The middle of the square is printed with a red-brown, by the following process: – Upon a convex board, several feet long, are arranged parallel, at about a finger-width apart, thin straight slips of bamboo, a quarter of an inch wide. By the side of these, curved pieces, formed of the midrib of cocoanut leaflets, are arranged. On the board thus prepared the cloth is laid, and rubbed over with a dye obtained from the lauci (Aleurites triloba). The cloth of course, takes the dye upon those parts which receive pressure, being supported by the slips beneath; and thus shows the same pattern in the colour employed. A stronger preparation of the same dye, laid on with a sort of brush, is used to divide the square into oblong compartments, with large round or radiated dots in the centre. The kesa, or dye, when good, dries bright. Blank borders, two or three feet wide, are still left on two sides of the square; and to elaborate the ornamentation of these, so as to excite applause, is the pride of every lady. There is now an entire change of apparatus. The operator works on a plain board; the red dye gives place to a jet black; the pattern is now formed of a strip of banana-leaf placed on the upper surface of the cloth. Out of the leaf is cut the pattern – not more than an inch long – which the lady wishes to print upon the border, and holds by her first and middle finger, pressing it down with the thumb. Then taking a soft pad of cloth steeped in the dye, in her right hand, she rubs it firmly over the stencil, and a sharp figure is made. The practised fingers of the operator move quickly, but it is, after all, a tedious process.

I regret to add, that the men employ themselves in an art of less utility: the manufacture of war weapons – clubs and spears – which the people of the different islands, and even those of the same, too often brandish against one another. This war spirit is entirely owing to their intercourse with the ferocious Feegees, whose boasting and ambitious spirit they are too prone to emulate. In fact, their admiration of the Feegee habits is something surprising; and can only be accounted for by the fact, that while visiting these savages and professed warriors, the Tongans have become imbued with a certain fear of them. They acknowledge the more reckless spirit of their allies, and are also aware that in intellectual capacity the black men are not inferior to themselves. They certainly are inferior in courage, as in every good moral quality; but the Tongans can hardly believe this, since their cruel and ferocious conduct seems to give colour to the contrary idea. In fact, it is this that inspires them with a kind of respect, which has no other foundation than a vague sense of fear. Hence they endeavour to emulate the actions that produce this fear, and this leads them to go to war with one another.

It is to be regretted that the missionaries have supplied them with a motive. Their late wars are solely due to missionary influence, – for Methodism upon the Tongan Islands has adopted one of the doctrines of Mahomet, and believes in the faith being propagated by the sword! A usurper, who wishes to be king over the whole group, has embraced the Methodist form of Christianity, and linked himself with its teachers, – who offer to aid him with all their influence; and these formerly peaceful islands now present the painful spectacle of a divided nationality, – the “Christian party,” and the “Devil’s party.” The object of conquest on the part of the former is to place the Devil’s party under the absolute sovereignty of a despot, whose laws will be dictated by his missionary ministers. Of the mildness of these laws we have already some specimens, which of course extend only to the “Christianised.” One of them, which refers to the mode of wearing the pareu, has been already hinted at, – and another is a still more off-hand piece of legislation: being an edict that no one hereafter shall be permitted to smoke tobacco, under pain of a most severe punishment.

When it is considered that the Tongan Islander enjoys the “weed” (and grows it too) more than almost any other smoker in creation, the severity of the “taboo” may be understood. But it is very certain, if his Methodist majesty were once firmly seated on his throne, bluer laws than this would speedily be proclaimed. The American Commodore Wilkes found things in this warlike attitude when he visited the Tongan Islands; but perceiving that the right was clearly on the side of the “Devil’s party,” declined to interfere; or rather, his interference, which would have speedily brought peace, was rejected by the Christian party, instigated by the sanguinary spirit of their “Christian” teachers. Not so, Captain Croker, of Her Britannic Majesty’s service, who came shortly after. This unreflecting officer – loath to believe that royalty could be in the wrong – at once took side with the king and Christians, and dashed headlong into the affair. The melancholy result is well-known. It ended by Captain Croker leaving his body upon the field, alongside those of many of his brave tars; and a disgraceful retreat of the Christian party beyond the reach of their enemies.

This interference of a British war-vessel in the affairs of the Tongan Islanders, offers a strong contrast to our conduct when in presence of the Feegees. There we have the fact recorded of British officers being eyewitnesses of the most horrid scenes, – wholesale murder and cannibalism, – with full power to stay the crime and full authority to punish it, – that authority which would have been freely given them by the accord and acclamation of the whole civilised world, – and yet they stood by, in the character of idle spectators, fearful of breaking through the delicate icy line of non-intervention!

A strange theory it seems, that murder is no longer murder, when the murderer and his victim chance to be of a different nationality from our own! It is a distinction too delicate to bear the investigation of the philosophic mind; and perhaps will yet yield to a truer appreciation of the principles of justice. There was no such squeamishness displayed when royalty required support upon the Tongan Islands; nor ever is there when self-interest demands it otherwise. Mercy and justice may both fail to disarrange the hypocritical fallacy of non-intervention; but the principle always breaks down at the call of political convenience.

Chapter Nine.

The Turcomans

Asia has been remarkable, from the earliest times, for having a large population without any fixed place of residence, but who lead a nomade or wandering life. It is not the only quarter of the globe where this kind of people are found: as there are many nomade nations in Africa, especially in the northern division of it; and if we take the Indian race into consideration, we find that both the North and South-American continents have their tribes of wandering people. It is in Asia, nevertheless, that we find this unsettled mode of life carried out to its greatest extent, – it is there that we find those great pastoral tribes, – or “hordes,” as they have been termed, – who at different historical periods have not only increased to the numerical strength of large nationalities, but have also been powerful enough to overrun adjacent empires, pushing their conquests even into Europe itself. Such were the invasions of the Mongols under Zenghis Khan, the Tartars under Timour, and the Turks, whose degenerate descendants now so feebly hold the vast territory won by their wandering ancestors.

The pastoral life, indeed, has its charms, that render it attractive to the natural disposition of man, and wherever the opportunity offers of following it, this life will be preferred to any other. It affords to man an abundant supply of all his most prominent wants, without requiring from him any very severe exertion, either of mind or body; and, considering the natural indolence of Asiatic people, it is not to be wondered at that so many of them betake themselves to this mode of existence. Their country, moreover, is peculiarly favourable to the development of a pastoral race. Perhaps not one third of the surface of the Asiatic continent is adapted to agriculture. At least one half of it is occupied by treeless, waterless plains, many of which have all the characters of a desert, where an agricultural people could not exist, or at all events, where their labour would be rewarded by only the most scant and precarious returns.

Even a pastoral people in these regions would find but a sorry subsistence, were they confined to one spot; for the luxurious herbage which, for the most part, characterises the great savanna plains of America, is either altogether wanting upon the steppes of Asia, or at best very meagre and inconstant. A fixed abode is therefore impossible, except in the most fertile tracts or oases: elsewhere, the nomad life is a necessity arising from the circumstances of the soil.