THE kingdom of Tebureimoa includes two islands, Great and Little Makin; some
two thousand subjects pay him tribute, and two semi- independent chieftains do
him qualified homage. The importance of the office is measured by the man; he
may be a nobody, he may be absolute; and both extremes have been exemplified
within the memory of residents.
On the death of king Tetimararoa, Tebureimoa's father, Nakaeia, the eldest
son, succeeded. He was a fellow of huge physical strength, masterful, violent,
with a certain barbaric thrift and some intelligence of men and business. Alone
in his islands, it was he who dealt and profited; he was the planter and the
merchant; and his subjects toiled for his behoof in servitude. When they wrought
long and well their taskmaster declared a holiday, and supplied and shared a
general debauch. The scale of his providing was at times magnificent; six
hundred dollars' worth of gin and brandy was set forth at once; the narrow land
resounded with the noise of revelry: and it was a common thing to see the
subjects (staggering themselves) parade their drunken sovereign on the
fore-hatch of a wrecked vessel, king and commons howling and singing as they
went. At a word from Nakaeia's mouth the revel ended; Makin became once more an
isle of slaves and of teetotalers; and on the morrow all the population must be
on the roads or in the taro-patches toiling under his bloodshot eye.
The fear of Nakaeia filled the land. No regularity of justice was affected;
there was no trial, there were no officers of the law; it seems there was but
one penalty, the capital; and daylight assault and midnight murder were the
forms of process. The king himself would play the executioner: and his blows
were dealt by stealth, and with the help and countenance of none but his own
wives. These were his oarswomen; one that caught a crab, he slew incontinently
with the tiller; thus disciplined, they pulled him by night to the scene of his
vengeance, which he would then execute alone and return well-pleased with his
connubial crew. The inmates of the harem held a station hard for us to conceive.
Beasts of draught, and driven by the fear of death, they were yet implicitly
trusted with their sovereign's life; they were still wives and queens, and it
was supposed that no man should behold their faces. They killed by the sight
like basilisks; a chance view of one of those boatwomen was a crime to be wiped
out with blood. In the days of Nakaeia the palace was beset with some tall
coco-palms which commanded the enclosure. It chanced one evening, while Nakaeia
sat below at supper with his wives, that the owner of the grove was in a
tree-top drawing palm-tree wine; it chanced that he looked down, and the king at
the same moment looking up, their eyes encountered. Instant flight preserved the
involuntary criminal. But during the remainder of that reign he must lurk and be
hid by friends in remote parts of the isle; Nakaeia hunted him without
remission, although still in vain; and the palms, accessories to the fact, were
ruthlessly cut down. Such was the ideal of wifely purity in an isle where nubile
virgins went naked as in paradise. And yet scandal found its way into Nakaeia's
well-guarded harem. He was at that time the owner of a schooner, which he used
for a pleasure- house, lodging on board as she lay anchored; and thither one day
he summoned a new wife. She was one that had been sealed to him; that is to say
(I presume), that he was married to her sister, for the husband of an elder
sister has the call of the cadets. She would be arrayed for the occasion; she
would come scented, garlanded, decked with fine mats and family jewels, for
marriage, as her friends supposed; for death, as she well knew. 'Tell me the
man's name, and I will spare you,' said Nakaeia. But the girl was staunch; she
held her peace, saved her lover and the queens strangled her between the mats.
Nakaeia was feared; it does not appear that he was hated. Deeds that smell to
us of murder wore to his subjects the reverend face of justice; his orgies made
him popular; natives to this day recall with respect the firmness of his
government; and even the whites, whom he long opposed and kept at arm's-length,
give him the name (in the canonical South Sea phrase) of 'a perfect gentleman
when sober.'
When he came to lie, without issue, on the bed of death, he summoned his next
brother, Nanteitei, made him a discourse on royal policy, and warned him he was
too weak to reign. The warning was taken to heart, and for some while the
government moved on the model of Nakaeia's. Nanteitei dispensed with guards, and
walked abroad alone with a revolver in a leather mail-bag. To conceal his
weakness he affected a rude silence; you might talk to him all day; advice,
reproof, appeal, and menace alike remained unanswered.
The number of his wives was seventeen, many of them heiresses; for the royal
house is poor, and marriage was in these days a chief means of buttressing the
throne. Nakaeia kept his harem busy for himself; Nanteitei hired it out to
others. In his days, for instance, Messrs. Wightman built a pier with a verandah
at the north end of the town. The masonry was the work of the seventeen queens,
who toiled and waded there like fisher lasses; but the man who was to do the
roofing durst not begin till they had finished, lest by chance he should look
down and see them.
It was perhaps the last appearance of the harem gang. For some time already
Hawaiian missionaries had been seated at Butaritari - Maka and Kanoa, two brave
childlike men. Nakaeia would none of their doctrine; he was perhaps jealous of
their presence; being human, he had some affection for their persons. In the
house, before the eyes of Kanoa, he slew with his own hand three sailors of
Oahu, crouching on their backs to knife them, and menacing the missionary if he
interfered; yet he not only spared him at the moment, but recalled him
afterwards (when he had fled) with some expressions of respect. Nanteitei, the
weaker man, fell more completely under the spell. Maka, a light-hearted,
lovable, yet in his own trade very rigorous man, gained and improved an
influence on the king which soon grew paramount. Nanteitei, with the royal
house, was publicly converted; and, with a severity which liberal missionaries
disavow, the harem was at once reduced. It was a compendious act. The throne was
thus impoverished, its influence shaken, the queen's relatives mortified, and
sixteen chief women (some of great possessions) cast in a body on the market. I
have been shipmates with a Hawaiian sailor who was successively married to two
of these IMPROMPTU widows, and successively divorced by both for misconduct.
That two great and rich ladies (for both of these were rich) should have married
'a man from another island' marks the dissolution of society. The laws besides
were wholly remodelled, not always for the better. I love Maka as a man; as a
legislator he has two defects: weak in the punishment of crime, stern to repress
innocent pleasures.
War and revolution are the common successors of reform; yet Nanteitei died
(of an overdose of chloroform), in quiet possession of the throne, and it was in
the reign of the third brother, Nabakatokia, a man brave in body and feeble of
character, that the storm burst. The rule of the high chiefs and notables seems
to have always underlain and perhaps alternated with monarchy. The Old Men (as
they were called) have a right to sit with the king in the Speak House and
debate: and the king's chief superiority is a form of closure - 'The Speaking is
over.' After the long monocracy of Nakaeia and the changes of Nanteitei, the Old
Men were doubtless grown impatient of obscurity, and they were beyond question
jealous of the influence of Maka. Calumny, or rather caricature, was called in
use; a spoken cartoon ran round society; Maka was reported to have said in
church that the king was the first man in the island and himself the second;
and, stung by the supposed affront, the chiefs broke into rebellion and armed
gatherings. In the space of one forenoon the throne of Nakaeia was humbled in
the dust. The king sat in the maniap' before the palace gate expecting his
recruits; Maka by his side, both anxious men; and meanwhile, in the door of a
house at the north entry of the town, a chief had taken post and diverted the
succours as they came. They came singly or in groups, each with his gun or
pistol slung about his neck. 'Where are you going?' asked the chief. 'The king
called us,' they would reply. 'Here is your place. Sit down,' returned the
chief. With incredible disloyalty, all obeyed; and sufficient force being thus
got together from both sides, Nabakatokia was summoned and surrendered. About
this period, in almost every part of the group, the kings were murdered; and on
Tapituea, the skeleton of the last hangs to this day in the chief Speak House of
the isle, a menace to ambition. Nabakatokia was more fortunate; his life and the
royal style were spared to him, but he was stripped of power. The Old Men
enjoyed a festival of public speaking; the laws were continually changed, never
enforced; the commons had an opportunity to regret the merits of Nakaeia; and
the king, denied the resource of rich marriages and the service of a troop of
wives, fell not only in disconsideration but in debt.
He died some months before my arrival on the islands, and no one regretted
him; rather all looked hopefully to his successor. This was by repute the hero
of the family. Alone of the four brothers, he had issue, a grown son, Natiata,
and a daughter three years old; it was to him, in the hour of the revolution,
that Nabakatokia turned too late for help; and in earlier days he had been the
right hand of the vigorous Nakaeia. Nontemat', MR. CORPSE, was his appalling
nickname, and he had earned it well. Again and again, at the command of Nakaeia,
he had surrounded houses in the dead of night, cut down the mosquito bars and
butchered families. Here was the hand of iron; here was Nakaeia REDUX. He came,
summoned from the tributary rule of Little Makin: he was installed, he proved a
puppet and a trembler, the unwieldy shuttlecock of orators; and the reader has
seen the remains of him in his summer parlour under the name of Tebureimoa.
The change in the man's character was much commented on in the island, and
variously explained by opium and Christianity. To my eyes, there seemed no
change at all, rather an extreme consistency. Mr. Corpse was afraid of his
brother: King Tebureimoa is afraid of the Old Men. Terror of the first nerved
him for deeds of desperation; fear of the second disables him for the least act
of government. He played his part of bravo in the past, following the line of
least resistance, butchering others in his own defence: to-day, grown elderly
and heavy, a convert, a reader of the Bible, perhaps a penitent, conscious at
least of accumulated hatreds, and his memory charged with images of violence and
blood, he capitulates to the Old Men, fuddles himself with opium, and sits among
his guards in dreadful expectation. The same cowardice that put into his hand
the knife of the assassin deprives him of the sceptre of a king.
A tale that I was told, a trifling incident that fell in my observation,
depicts him in his two capacities. A chief in Little Makin asked, in an hour of
lightness, 'Who is Kaeia?' A bird carried the saying; and Nakaeia placed the
matter in the hands of a committee of three. Mr. Corpse was chairman; the second
commissioner died before my arrival; the third was yet alive and green, and
presented so venerable an appearance that we gave him the name of Abou ben
Adhem. Mr. Corpse was troubled with a scruple; the man from Little Makin was his
adopted brother; in such a case it was not very delicate to appear at all, to
strike the blow (which it seems was otherwise expected of him) would be worse
than awkward. 'I will strike the blow,' said the venerable Abou; and Mr. Corpse
(surely with a sigh) accepted the compromise. The quarry was decoyed into the
bush; he was set to carrying a log; and while his arms were raised Abou ripped
up his belly at a blow. Justice being thus done, the commission, in a childish
horror, turned to flee. But their victim recalled them to his side. 'You need
not run away now,' he said. 'You have done this thing to me. Stay.' He was some
twenty minutes dying, and his murderers sat with him the while: a scene for
Shakespeare. All the stages of a violent death, the blood, the failing voice,
the decomposing features, the changed hue, are thus present in the memory of Mr.
Corpse; and since he studied them in the brother he betrayed, he has some reason
to reflect on the possibilities of treachery. I was never more sure of anything
than the tragic quality of the king's thoughts; and yet I had but the one sight
of him at unawares. I had once an errand for his ear. It was once more the hour
of the siesta; but there were loiterers abroad, and these directed us to a
closed house on the bank of the canal where Tebureimoa lay unguarded. We entered
without ceremony, being in some haste. He lay on the floor upon a bed of mats,
reading in his Gilbert Island Bible with compunction. On our sudden entrance the
unwieldy man reared himself half-sitting so that the Bible rolled on the floor,
stared on us a moment with blank eyes, and, having recognised his visitors, sank
again upon the mats. So Eglon looked on Ehud.
The justice of facts is strange, and strangely just; Nakaeia, the author of
these deeds, died at peace discoursing on the craft of kings; his tool suffers
daily death for his enforced complicity. Not the nature, but the congruity of
men's deeds and circumstances damn and save them; and Tebureimoa from the first
has been incongruously placed. At home, in a quiet bystreet of a village, the
man had been a worthy carpenter, and, even bedevilled as he is, he shows some
private virtues. He has no lands, only the use of such as are impignorate for
fines; he cannot enrich himself in the old way by marriages; thrift is the chief
pillar of his future, and he knows and uses it. Eleven foreign traders pay him a
patent of a hundred dollars, some two thousand subjects pay capitation at the
rate of a dollar for a man, half a dollar for a woman, and a shilling for a
child: allowing for the exchange, perhaps a total of three hundred pounds a
year. He had been some nine months on the throne: had bought his wife a silk
dress and hat, figure unknown, and himself a uniform at three hundred dollars;
had sent his brother's photograph to be enlarged in San Francisco at two hundred
and fifty dollars; had greatly reduced that brother's legacy of debt and had
still sovereigns in his pocket. An affectionate brother, a good economist; he
was besides a handy carpenter, and cobbled occasionally on the woodwork of the
palace. It is not wonderful that Mr. Corpse has virtues; that Tebureimoa should
have a diversion filled me with surprise.
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