The Belief in Immortality and the Worship of the Dead Volume Ii Part 16

[38] Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._. ii. 145 _sqq._; J. E.

Erskine, _op. cit._ pp. 45-47; T. H. Hood, _Notes of a Cruise in H.M.S. "Fawn" in the Western Pacific_ (Edinburgh, 1863), p. 32; Violette, "Notes d'un Missionnaire sur l'archipel de Samoa,"

_Les Missions Catholiques_, iii. (1870) p. 135; G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 152 _sqq._; S. Ella, _op. cit._ pp. 634 _sq._; J.

B. Stair, _Old Samoa,_ pp. 105 _sqq._, 153 _sqq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 24 _sqq._

Like the rest of the Polynesians, the Samoans are an agricultural people, and subsist mainly by the fruits of the earth, though the lagoons and reefs furnish them with a large supply of fish and sh.e.l.l-fish, of which they are very fond. They all, but especially persons of rank, occasionally regaled themselves on pigs, fowls, and turtle. But bread-fruit, taro, yams, bananas, and coco-nuts formed the staff of life in Samoa. As the soil is very rich and the hot, damp climate is eminently favourable to the growth of vegetation, food was always abundant, and the natives could procure the necessaries and even the luxuries of life at the cost of very little labour; if they tilled the soil, it was rather to vary their diet than to wring a scanty subsistence from a n.i.g.g.ardly nature. Coco-nut palms, bread-fruit and chestnut trees, and wild yams, bananas, and plantains abound throughout the islands, and require little attention to make them yield an ample crop. For about half the year the Samoans have a plentiful supply of food from the bread-fruit trees: during the other half they depend princ.i.p.ally upon their taro plantations. While the bread-fruit is in season, every family lays up a quant.i.ty of the ripe fruit in a pit lined with leaves and covered with stones. The fruit soon ferments and forms a soft ma.s.s, which emits a very vile smell every time the pit is opened.

In this state it may be kept for years, for the older and more rotten the fruit is, the better the natives like it. They bake it, with the juice of the coco-nut, into flat cakes, which are eaten when the ripe fruit is out of season or when taro is scarce. For taro is on the whole the staple food of the Samoans; it grows all the year round. The water of the coco-nut furnishes a cool, delicious, slightly effervescing beverage, which is peculiarly welcome to the hot and weary wayfarer far from any spring or rivulet.[39]

[39] Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ ii. 147; W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_ (London, 1866), pp. 126-128; Violette, "Notes d'un Missionnaire sur l'archipel de Samoa,"

_Les Missions Catholiques_, iii. (1870) pp. 87 _sq._; G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 105-107; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 53-55; G.

Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 130 _sqq._ According to Dr. Brown, there are generally three crops of bread-fruit in the year, one of them lasting about three months.

To obtain land for cultivation the Samoans went into the forest and cut down the brushwood and creeping vines with small hatchets or large knives. The large forest-trees they destroyed by chopping away the bark in a circle round the trunk and then kindling a fire of brushwood at the foot of the tree. Thus in the course of a few days a fair-sized piece of ground would be cleared, nothing of the forest remaining but charred trunks and leafless branches. Then followed the planting. The agricultural instruments employed were of the simplest pattern. A dibble, or pointed stick of hard wood, was used to make the hole in which the plant was deposited. This took the place of a plough, and a branch served the purpose of a harrow. Sometimes the earth was dug and smoothed with the blade of a canoe paddle. The labour of clearing and planting the ground was done by the men, but the task of weeding it generally devolved on the women. The first crop taken from a piece of land newly cleared in the forest was yams, which require a peculiar culture and frequent change of site, two successive crops being seldom obtained from the same land. After the first crop of yams had been cleared off, taro was planted several times in succession; for this root does not, like yams, require a change of site. However, we are told that a second crop of taro grown on the same land was very inferior to the first, and that as a rule the land was allowed to remain fallow until the trees growing on it were as thick as a man's arm, when it was again cleared for cultivation. In the wet season taro was planted on the high land from one to four miles inland from the village; other kinds of taro were planted in the swamps, and these were considered more succulent than the taro grown on the uplands. The growing crops of taro were weeded at least twice a year. The natives resorted to irrigation, when they had the means; and they often dug trenches to drain away the water from swampy ground. Yams also required attention; for sticks had to be provided on which the plants could run. The fruit ripens only once a year, but it was stored up, and with care would keep till the next season. The natives found neither yams nor bread-fruit so nouris.h.i.+ng as taro.[40]

[40] Violette, "Notes d'un Missionnaire sur l'archipel de Samoa," _Les Missions Catholiques_, iii. (1870) p. 188; S.

Ella, _op. cit._ p. 635; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 54 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 130 _sqq._, 338 _sqq._

The degree of progress which any particular community has made in civilisation may be fairly gauged by the degree of subdivision of labour among its members; for it is only by restricting his energies to a particular craft that a man can attain to any perfection in it. Judged by this standard the Samoans had advanced some way on the road to civilisation, since among them the division of labour was carried out to a considerable extent: in their native state they had not a few separate trades or professions, some of which may even be said to have developed the stability and organisation of trade guilds. Among them, for example, house-building, canoe-building, tattooing, and the making of nets and fish-hooks were distinct crafts, which, though not strictly hereditary, were usually confined to particular families. Thus by long practice and experience handed down from generation to generation a considerable degree of skill was acquired, and a considerable degree of reputation accrued to the family. Every trade had its particular patron G.o.d and was governed by certain well-known rules. The members formed, indeed, we are told, a trade union which was remarkably effective. Thus they had rules which prescribed the time and proportions of payment to be made at different stages of the work, and these rules were strictly observed and enforced by the workmen. For example, in the house-building trade, it was a standing custom that after the sides and one end of a house were finished, the princ.i.p.al part of the payment should be made. If the carpenters were dissatisfied with the amount of payment, they simply left off work and walked away, leaving the house unfinished, and no carpenter in the whole length and breadth of Samoa would dare to finish it, for it would have been as much as his business or even his life was worth to undertake the job. Anyone so foolhardy as thus to set the rules of the trade at defiance would have been attacked by the other workmen and robbed of his tools; at the best he would receive a severe thras.h.i.+ng, at the worst he might be killed. A house might thus stand unfinished for months or even years. Sooner or later, if he was to have a roof over his head, the unfortunate owner had to yield to the trade union and agree to such terms as they might dictate. If it happened that the house was almost finished before the fourth and final payment was made, and the builder at that stage of the proceedings took offence, he would remove a beam from the roof before retiring in dudgeon, and no workman would dare to replace it. The rules in the other trades, such as canoe-building and tattooing, were practically the same. In canoe-building, for example, five separate payments were made to the builders at five stages of the work; and if at any stage the workmen were dissatisfied with the pay, they very unceremoniously abandoned the work until the employer apologised or came to terms. No other party of workmen would have the temerity to finish the abandoned canoe upon pain of bringing down on their heads the wrath of the whole fraternity of canoe-builders; any such rash offenders against the rules of the guild would be robbed of their tools, expelled from their clan, and prohibited from exercising their calling during the pleasure of the guild. Such strides had the Samoans made in the direction of trade unionism.[41]

[41] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 157 _sqq._, 162 _sqq._; J.

B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 141 _sqq._, 145 _sqq._, 153 _sqq._, 157 _sqq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 268, 305-308. Compare Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ ii. 143 _sqq._; Violette, _op. cit._ pp. 134 _sq._; S. Ella, _op. cit._ pp. 635 _sq._

In addition to their household duties women engaged in special work of their own, particularly in the manufacture of bark-cloths and of fine mats; but among them there seems to have been no subdivision of labour and consequently no professional guilds. In all families the making of bark-cloth and mats was carried on by the women indifferently, though some no doubt excelled others in the skill of their handiwork. The cloth was made from the bark of the paper-mulberry (_Morus papyrifera_), which was beaten out on boards with a grooved beetle. The sound of these beetles ringing on the boards, though not very musical, was a familiar sound in a Samoan village. The fine mats, on the manufacture of which the Samoans particularly prided themselves, were worn as dresses on ceremonial occasions. They were made from the leaves of a large plant which the natives call _lau ie_; the leaves closely resemble those of the panda.n.u.s, but are larger. These mats were of a straw or cream colour, and were sometimes fringed with tufts of scarlet feathers of the paroquet. They were thin and almost as flexible as calico. Many months, sometimes even years, were spent over the making of a single mat.

Another kind of fine mat was made from the bark of a plant of the nettle tribe (_Hibiscus tiliaceus_), which grows wild over the islands. Mats of the latter sort were s.h.a.ggy on one side, and, being bleached white, resembled fleecy sheep-skins. These fine mats, especially those made from the leaves of the panda.n.u.s-like plant, were considered by the Samoans to be their most valuable property; they were handed down as heirlooms from father to son, and were so much coveted that wars were sometimes waged to obtain possession of them. The pedigrees of the more famous mats, particularly those fringed with red feathers, were carefully kept, and when they changed hands, their history was related with solemn precision. Age enhanced their value; and their tattered condition, deemed a proof of antiquity, rather added to than detracted from the estimation in which they were held. The wealth of a family consisted of its mats; with them it remunerated the services of carpenters, boat-builders, and tattooers. The mats formed, indeed, a sort of currency or medium of exchange; for while the Samoans were not in general a trading people, and there was little or no actual buying and selling among them, there was nevertheless a considerable exchange of property on many occasions; at marriage, for example, it was customary for the bride's family to give mats and bark-cloth as her dowry, while the bridegroom's family provided a house, canoes, and other articles. But though the fine mats were thus paid away or given in exchange, they had no fixed negotiable value, and thus did not serve the purpose of money.[42]

[42] Ch. Wilkes, _Narrative of the United States Exploring Expedition_, ii. 142 _sq._; J. E. Erskine, _Journal of a Cruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_, pp. 109 _sq._; W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp. 129-132; Violette, "Notes d'un Missionnaire sur l'archipel de Samoa,"

_Les Missions Catholiques_, iii. (1870) p. 135; G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 119-121; S. Ella, "Samoa," _Report of the Fourth Meeting of the Australasian a.s.sociation for the Advancement of Science, held at Hobart, Tasmania, in January 1892_, p. 636; J.

B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 143 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 304 _sq._, 305, 315, 434.

-- 4. _Rights of Property_

In Samoa the rights of private property, both personal and landed, were fully recognised, but with certain limitations. The lands were owned alike by chiefs and by heads of families; the laws regulating their possession were very definite. In no case did the whole of the land belong to the chiefs. Every family owned portions of land not only in the village and adjoining gardens, but far away in the unreclaimed forests of the interior. The t.i.tle, which pa.s.sed by inheritance, generally vested in the family; but the family was represented by the head, who often claimed the right to dispose of it by sale or otherwise.

Yet he dared not do anything without consulting all concerned; were he to persist in thwarting the wishes of the rest, they would take his t.i.tle from him and give it to another. Sometimes, however, the t.i.tle to landed property vested in individual owners. The legitimate heir was the oldest surviving brother, but occasionally he waived his right in favour of one of the sons. Women might hold land when the male side of a family was extinct. The boundaries of land were well defined, being marked by pathways, natural limits, such as a river, or by trenches and stones half buried in the ground. Every inch of ground had its owner, even to the tops of the mountains. Trespa.s.s by a neighbouring village would be resisted, if necessary, by force of arms.[43]

[43] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 176 _sq._; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 83 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 287 _sq._, 314, 339.

In regard to personal property it may be said that, like landed property, it belonged rather to the family than to the individual; for no Samoan could refuse to give, without an equivalent, anything which any member of his family asked for. In this way boats, tools, garments, and so forth pa.s.sed freely from hand to hand. Nay, a man could enter the plantation of a relative and help himself to the fruit without asking the owner's leave; such an appropriation was not considered to be stealing. Under this communistic system, as it has been called, acc.u.mulation of property was scarcely possible, and industry was discouraged. Why should a diligent man toil when he knew that the fruit of his labour might all be consumed by lazy kinsfolk? He might lay out a plantation of bananas, and when they were full-grown, bunch after bunch might be plucked and eaten by his less industrious relations, until, exasperated beyond endurance, the unfortunate owner would cut down all the remaining trees. No matter how hard a man worked, he could not keep his earnings; they all soon pa.s.sed out of his hands into the common stock of the clan. The system, we are told, ate like a canker-worm at the roots of individual and national progress.[44]

[44] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 160 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 247, 262 _sq._, 434.

-- 5. _Government, Social Ranks, Respect for Chiefs_

The native government of Samoa was not, like that of Tonga, a centralised despotism. Under the form of a monarchy and aristocracy the political const.i.tution was fundamentally republican and indeed democratic. The authority of the king and chiefs was limited and more or less nominal; practically Samoa consisted of a large number of petty independent and self-governing communities, which sometimes combined for defence or common action in a sort of loose federation.[45]

[45] J. Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands_, p. 454; H. Hale, _Ethnography and Philology of the United States Exploring Expedition_, p. 29; T.

H. Hood, _Notes of a Cruise in H.M.S. "Fawn" in the Western Pacific_ (Edinburgh, 1863), p. 118; G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 173; S. Ella, "Samoa," _Report of the Fourth Meeting of the Australasian a.s.sociation for the Advancement of Science, held at Hobart, Tasmania, in January 1892_, p. 631; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 83 _sq._, 89; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 333.

To a superficial observer the aristocratic cast of Samoan society might at first sight seem very marked. The social ranks were sharply divided from each other, and the inferior orders paid great formal deference to their superiors. At the head of all ranked the chiefs (_alii_); but even among them the ordinary chiefs were distinct from the sacred chiefs (_alii paia_), who enjoyed the highest honours. These sacred chiefs preserved their pedigrees for twenty or more generations with as great care as the oldest and proudest families in Europe, and they possessed many feudal rights and privileges which were as well known and as fully acknowledged as are, or were, those of any lord of a manor in England.

The task of preserving a record of a chief's pedigrees was entrusted to his orator or spokesman, who belonged to a lower social rank (that of the _tulafales_).[46] The influence of chiefs was supported by the belief that they possessed some magical or supernatural power, by which they could enforce their decisions.[47] Their persons were sacred or taboo. They might not be touched by any one. No one might sit beside them. In the public a.s.semblies a vacant place was left on each side of the seat of honour which they occupied. Some chiefs were so holy that they might not even be looked at by day. Their food might not be handed to them, but was thrown to them, and it was so sacred that no one might eat any of it which they had left over.[48]

[46] H. Hale, _op. cit._ p. 28; Violette, _op. cit._ p.

168; G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 173 _sqq._; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 65 _sqq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 283, 430.

[47] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 431.

[48] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 280, 283, 285; Violette, _op. cit._ p. 168 (as to chiefs too holy to be seen by day).

"The sacredness attributed to many chiefs of high rank gave rise to observances which were irksome to their families and dependents, since whatever they came in contact with required to undergo the ceremony of _lulu'u_, or sprinkling with a particular kind of cocoanut-water (_niu-ui_); both to remove the sanct.i.ty supposed to be communicated to the article or place that had touched the chief, and also to counteract the danger of speedy death, which was believed to be imminent to any person who might touch the sacred chief, or anything that he had touched; so great was the mantle of sanct.i.ty thrown around these chiefs, although unconnected with the priesthood. Thus the spot where such a chief had sat or slept was sprinkled with water immediately he had left it, as were also the persons who had sat on either side of him when he received company, as well as all the attendants who had waited upon him.

"This remarkable custom was also observed on other occasions. It was always used on the occasion of deposing a chief, and depriving him of his _Ao_, or t.i.tles, in which case the ceremony was performed by some of those who had either conferred the t.i.tles or had the power to do so. In the case of O le Tamafainga, the usurper who was killed in A'ana in 1829, his body was first sprinkled with cocoanut-water, and his t.i.tle of _O le Tuia'ana_ recalled from him, before he was hewn in pieces. The ceremony consisted of sprinkling the body with cocoanut-water, and the officiating chief or _Tulafale_ saying, 'Give us back our _Ao_,' by which means the t.i.tle was recalled, and the sacredness attaching to it was dispelled. It was also used over persons newly tattooed, and upon those who contaminated themselves by contact with a dead body. In each of these cases the ceremony was carefully observed, and reverently attended to, as very dire consequences were considered certain to follow its omission."[49] Thus the sacredness of a chief was deemed dangerous to all persons with whom he might come, whether directly or indirectly, into contact; it was apparently conceived as a sort of electric fluid which discharged itself, it might be with fatal effect, on whatever it touched. And the sacredness of a chief was clearly cla.s.sed with the uncleanness of a dead body, since contact with a dead body involved the same dangerous consequences as contact with the sacred person of a chief and had to be remedied in precisely the same manner. The two conceptions of holiness and uncleanness, which to us seem opposite and even contradictory, blend in the idea of taboo, in which both are implicitly held as it were in solution. It requires the a.n.a.lytic tendency of more advanced thought to distinguish the two conceptions, to precipitate, as it were, the components of the solution in the testing-tube of the mind.

[49] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 127 _sq._ Compare Violette, _op. cit._ p. 168; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 231, 280, 285. In this work Dr. Brown remarks (p. 231) that there is no clear explanation of the custom of sprinkling coco-nut water as a purificatory rite. But the explanation given by Stair, which I have quoted in the text, is clear and satisfactory, and elsewhere (p. 285) Dr. Brown implicitly adopts the same explanation, where he says that the man who had served kava to a sacred chief "sprinkled himself all over to wash away the sacredness (_paia_)."

The profound respect which the Samoans entertained for their chiefs manifested itself in yet another fas.h.i.+on. A special form of speech was adopted in addressing a chief, in conversing in his presence, or even in alluding to him in his absence. Thus there arose what is called a chiefs' language, or polite diction, which was used exclusively in speaking to or of a chief, whether the speaker was a common man or a chief of lower rank. But it was never used by a chief when he was speaking of himself. Persons of high rank, in addressing others and alluding to themselves, always employed ordinary language and sometimes the very lowest terms; so that it was often amusing to listen to expressions of feigned humility uttered by a proud man, who would have been indignant indeed if the same terms which he applied to himself had been applied to him by others. Thus, for example, the actions of sitting, talking, eating, sleeping, and dying were expressed by different terms according as the agent was a chief or a common man. The ordinary word for a house was _fale_; but a chief's house was called _maota_. The common word for anger was _ita_; the polite term was _toasa_. To sleep in ordinary language was _moe_, but in polite language it was _tof[=a]_ or _toa_. To be sick in common speech was _mai_, but in polite language it was _ngasengase, faatafa, pulu pulusi_. To die was _mate_ or _pe_ (said of animals), or _oti_ (said of men); but the courtly expressions for death were _maliu_ ("gone"), _folau_ ("gone on a voyage"), _fale-lauasi, ngasololo ao_, and a number of others. The terms subst.i.tuted in the court language sometimes had a meaning the very opposite of that borne by the corresponding terms in the ordinary language. For example, in the court language firewood was called _polata_, which properly means the stem of the banana plant, a wood that is incombustible. If the use of an ordinary word in the presence of a chief were unavoidable, it had to be prefaced by the apologetic phrase _veaeane_, literally "saving your presence," every time the word was spoken. Nay, the courtly language itself varied with the rank of the chief addressed or alluded to. For example, if you wished to say that a person had come, you would say _alu_ of a common man; _alala_ of a head of a household or landowner (_tulafale_); _maliu_ of a petty chief; _susu_ of a chief of the second cla.s.s; and _afiu_ of a chief of the highest rank.[50] The same respect which was shown in the use of words descriptive of a chief's actions or possessions was naturally extended to his own name, when he belonged to the cla.s.s of sacred chiefs. If his name happened to be also the name of a common object, it ceased to be used to designate the thing in question, and a new word or phrase was subst.i.tuted for it. Henceforth the old name of the object was dropped and might never again be p.r.o.nounced in the chief's district nor indeed anywhere in his presence. In one district, for example, the chief's name was Flying-fox; hence the ordinary word for flying-fox (_re'a_) was dropped, and that species of bat was known as "bird of heaven" (_manu langi_).[51] Again, when the chief of Pango-pango, in the island of Tutuila, was called Maunga, which means "mountain," that word might never be used in his presence, and a courtly term was subst.i.tuted for it.[52] This is only one instance of the ways in which the dialects of savages tend to vary from each other under the influence of superst.i.tion.

[50] H. Hale, _Ethnography and Philology of the United States Exploring Expedition_, pp. 28 _sq._; Violette, "Notes d'un Missionnaire sur l'archipel de Samoa," _Les Missions Catholiques_, iii. (1870) p. 190; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp.

67 _sqq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 380 _sq._ Compare G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 175.

[51] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 280, 381.

[52] J. E. Erskine, _Journal of a Cruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_, p. 44.

Yet despite the extraordinary deference thus paid to chiefs in outward show, the authority which they possessed was for the most part very limited; indeed in the ordinary affairs of life the powers and privileges of a chief were little more than nominal, and he moved about among the people and shared their everyday employments just like a common man. Thus, for example, he would go out with a fis.h.i.+ng party, work in his plantation, help at building a house or a canoe, and even lend a hand in cooking at a native oven. So strong was the democratic spirit among the Samoans. The ordinary duties of a chief consisted in administering the law, settling disputes, punis.h.i.+ng transgressors, appointing feasts, imposing taboos, and leading his people in war. It was in time of war that a chief's dignity and authority were at their highest, but even then he could hardly maintain strict discipline.[53]

However, the influence of chiefs varied a good deal and depended in great measure on their personal character. If besides his hereditary rank a chief was a man of energy and ability, he might become practically supreme in his village or district. Some chiefs even used their power in a very tyrannical manner.[54]

[53] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 174 _sq._; S. Ella, "Samoa," _Report of the Fourth Meeting of the Australasian a.s.sociation for the Advancement of Science, held at Hobart, Tasmania, in January 1892_, pp. 631 _sq._; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, p. 70; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 286.

[54] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, p. 70; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 286.

But for the abuse of power by their nominal rulers the Samoans had a remedy at hand. When a chief rendered himself odious to his people by tyranny and oppression, the householders or gentry (_tulafales_) and neighbouring chiefs would not uncommonly depose him and transfer his office to another; in extreme cases they might banish him or even put him to death. The place of banishment for exiled chiefs was the island of Tutuila. Thither the fallen potentate was conveyed under custody in a canoe, and on landing he was made to run the gauntlet between two rows of the inhabitants, who belaboured him with sticks, pelted him with stones, or subjected him to other indignities. He was lucky if he escaped with nothing worse than bruises, for sometimes the injuries inflicted were severe or actually fatal.[55] Chieftains.h.i.+p was hereditary in the male line, but did not necessarily pa.s.s from father to son; the usual heir would seem to have been the eldest surviving brother, and next to him one of the sons. But a dying chief might nominate his successor, though the final decision rested with the heads of families. Failing a male heir, a daughter might be appointed to, or might a.s.sume, the prerogative of chieftains.h.i.+p.[56]

[55] J. Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands_, p. 454; H. Hale, _Ethnography and Philology of the United States Exploring Expedition_, p. 28; Violette, "Notes d'un Missionnaire sur l'archipel de Samoa,"

_Les Missions Catholiques_, iii. (1870) p. 119; G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 177; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 71 _sqq._

[56] Violette, _op. cit._ p. 119; G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 174; S. Ella, _op. cit._ p. 631; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 282, 286, 430.

In addition to their hereditary n.o.bility chiefs might be raised to higher rank by the possession of t.i.tles (_ao_), which were in the gift of certain ruling towns or villages. When four or, according to another account, five of these t.i.tles were conferred upon a single chief, he was called _o le tupu_, or King of Samoa. But if the const.i.tuencies were not unanimous in their choice of a candidate, the throne might remain vacant for long periods. Thus the monarchy of Samoa was elective; the king was chosen by a hereditary aristocracy, and his powers were tempered by the rights and privileges of the n.o.bility. Yet under the show of a limited monarchy the const.i.tution was essentially a federal republic.[57] The ceremony of anointing a King of Samoa in ancient times appears to have curiously resembled a similar solemnity in monarchical Europe. It took place in presence of a large a.s.sembly of chiefs and people. A sacred stone was consecrated as a throne, or rather stool, on which the king stood, while a priest, who must also be a chief, called upon the G.o.ds to behold and bless the king, and p.r.o.nounced denunciations against such as should fail to obey him. He then poured scented oil from a native bottle over the head, shoulders, and body of the king, and proclaimed his several t.i.tles and honours.[58]

[57] Violette, _op. cit._ pp. 118 _sq._; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 65 _sqq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 283. Compare H. Hale, _Ethnography and Philology of the United States Exploring Expedition_, p. 29.

[58] S. Ella, "Samoa," _Report of the Fourth Meeting of the Australasian a.s.sociation for the Advancement of Science, held at Hobart, Tasmania, in January 1892_, p. 631.

Next below the chiefs ranked an inferior order of n.o.bility called _tulafales_ or _faipules_, who are variously described as householders, councillors, and secondary chiefs. They formed a very powerful and influential cla.s.s; indeed we are told that they generally exercised greater authority than the chiefs, and that the real control of districts often centred in their hands. They usually owned large lands: they were the princ.i.p.al advisers of the chiefs: the orators were usually selected from their number: the _ao_ or t.i.tles of districts were always in their gift; and they had the power, which they did not scruple to use, of deposing and banis.h.i.+ng an unpopular chief. Sometimes a chief contrived to bring them into subjection to himself; but as a rule they were a st.u.r.dy cla.s.s, who did not shrink from speaking out their minds to their social superiors, often uttering very unpalatable truths and acting with great determination when the conduct of a chief incurred their displeasure. In short, they made laws, levied fines, and generally ruled the village.[59]

[59] H. Hale, _op. cit._ p. 28; Ch. Wilkes, _op. cit._ ii. 152; Violette, _op. cit._ p. 119; S. Ella, _op. cit._ p. 629; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 70 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 285 _sq._, 287.

Below the _tulafales_ ranked the _faleupolu_ or House of Upolu, and the _tangata nuu_ or Men of the Land. The former were considerable landowners and possessed much influence; the latter were the humblest cla.s.s, bearing arms in time of war, and cultivating the soil, fis.h.i.+ng, and cooking in time of peace. But they were far from being serfs; most of them were eligible for the position of head of a family, if, when a vacancy occurred, the choice of the family fell upon them.[60] For the t.i.tle of head of a family was not hereditary. A son might succeed his father in the dignity; but the members of the family would sometimes pa.s.s over the son and confer the t.i.tle on an uncle, a cousin, or even a perfect stranger, if they desired to increase the numerical strength of the family.[61]