by Jules Verne
Under the shade of beautiful trees the procession marched towards the palace of the government. On every side were cocoanut trees of superb growth, miros with rosy foliage, bancoulias, clumps of orange trees, guava trees, caoutchoucs, etc. The palace stood amid this charming verdure, which rose as high as its roof, which was decorated with charming mansardes; its front was of considerable elegance and embraced a ground floor and one storey. The principal French functionaries were here assembled, and the colonial gendarmerie formed a guard of honour.
The commandant-commissioner received Cyrus Bikerstaff with a graciousness that he certainly would not have met with in the English archipelagoes of these parts. He thanked him for having brought Floating Island into the waters of this archipelago. He hoped that the visit would be renewed every year, regretting that Tahiti could not return the compliment. The interview lasted half an hour, and it was agreed that Cyrus Bikerstaff might expect the authorities next day at the town hall.
“Do you intend to remain some time at Papaete?” asked the commandant-commissioner.
“A fortnight,” replied the Governor.
“Then you will have the pleasure of seeing the French naval division which is expected here at the end of the week.”
“We shall be happy to do them the honours of our island.”
Cyrus Bikerstaff presented the members of his suite, his assistants, Commodore Ethel Simcoe, the commandant of the militia, the different functionaries, the superintendent of fine arts, and the artistes of the Quartette Party, who were welcomed as they ought to be by a compatriot.
Then there was a slight embarrassment with regard to the delegates of the sections of Milliard City. How was he to avoid giving offence to Jem Tankerdon and Nat Coverley, those two irritable personages who had the right—
“To march both at once,” said Pinchinat.
The difficulty was evaded by the commandant-commissioner himself. Knowing the rivalry between the two famous millionaires, he was of such perfect tact, so rigid in his official correctness, and acted with such diplomatic address, that the matter passed over as if it had been all arranged.
It is needless to say that Sebastien Zorn, Yvernès, Pinchinat, and Frascolin had intended to leave Athanase Dorémus, who was already out of breath, to get back to his house in Twenty-Fifth Avenue. They hoped to spend as much time as possible at Papaete, in visiting the environs, making excursions into the principal districts, even as far as the peninsula of Tatarapu, even to exhaust to the last drop this Flask of the Pacific.
Having decided on this, they informed Calistus Munbar, who could but approve of the plan.
“But,” he said, “you had better wait a couple of days before starting on your journey.”
“And why not to-day?” asked the impatient Yvernès.
“Because the authorities of Floating Island wish to pay their respects to the Queen, and you will have to be presented to her and her court.”
“And to-morrow?” said Frascolin.
“To-morrow the commandant-commissioner of the archipelago is to return the visit he has received from the authorities of Floating Island, and it is the proper thing—”
“For us to be there,” replied Pinchinat. “Well, Mr. Superintendent, we shall be there, we shall be there.”
Leaving the palace of the Government, Cyrus Bikerstaff and his procession directed their steps to the palace of her Majesty. It was a simple promenade under the trees, which did not take more than a quarter of an hour.
The royal dwelling is very agreeably situated amid masses of verdure. It is a quadrilateral in two storeys, with a chalet-like roof overhanging two tiers of verandahs. From the upper windows the view embraces the large plantations which extend up to the town, and beyond is a large section of sea. In short a charming house, not luxurious, but comfortable.
The Queen had lost nothing of her prestige in passing under the rule of a French protectorate. If the flag of France is displayed from the masts of the vessels moored in the port of Papaete or anchored in the roadstead, on the civil and military edifices of the city, at least the standard of the sovereign displays over her palace the ancient colours of the archipelago—red and white stripes, horizontal, with a tricolour in the upper canton.
It was in 1706 that Quiros discovered the island of Tahiti, to which he gave the name of Sagittaria. After him Walter in 1767, Bougainville in 1768, completed the exploration of the group. At the time of the first discovery Queen Oberea was reigning, and after her death the celebrated dynasty of the Pomares appeared in the history of Oceania.
Pomare I. (1762-1780) having reigned under the name of Otoo, the Black Heron, changed it for that of Pomare.
Her son, Pomare II. (1780-1819), favourably welcomed in 1797 the first English missionaries, who converted him to the Christian religion ten years afterwards. This was a period of dissensions and internecine war, and the population of the archipelago gradually decreased from a hundred thousand to sixteen thousand.
Pomare III., son of the preceding, reigned from 1819 to 1827, and his sister Aimata, born in 1812, became Queen of Tahiti and the neighbouring islands. Having no children by Tapoa, her first husband, she repudiated him to marry Ariifaaite. From this union there was born in 1849 Arione, the heir presumptive, who died at the age of thirty-five. From the following year afterwards the Queen presented four children to her husband, who was the finest man in the islands—a daughter, Teriimaevarua, princess of the island of Bora-Bora since 1860; Prince Tamatoa, born in 1842, King of the island of Raiatea, who was overthrown by his subjects revolting against his brutality; Prince Teriitapunui, born in 1846, afflicted with lameness, and Prince Tuavira, born in 1848, who finished his education in France.
The reign of Queen Pomare was not absolutely peaceful. In 1835 the Catholic missionaries began a struggle with the Protestant missionaries. Being sent out of the country, they were brought back by a French expedition in 1838. Four years afterwards the protectorate of France was accepted by the five chiefs of the island. Pomare protested, the English protested. Admiral Dupetit-Thouars proclaimed the deposition of the Queen in 1843. But the admiral having been disavowed to a certain extent, Admiral Bruat was sent to bring the matter to a conclusion.
Tahiti submitted in 1846, and Pomare accepted the protectorate by the treaty of June 19th, 1847, receiving the sovereignty of the islands of Raiatea, Huahine and Bora-Bora. There were further troubles in 1852; an outbreak overthrew the Queen, and a republic was even proclaimed. At last the French Government reinstated the sovereign, who abandoned three of her crowns; in favour of her eldest son that of Raiatea and Tahaa, in favour of her second son that of Huahine, and in favour of her daughter that of Bora-Bora.
In these days it is one of her descendants, Pomare IV., who occupies the throne of the archipelago.
The complaisant Frascolin continued to justify his title of the Larousse of the Pacific which Pinchinat had given him. These historical and biographical details he gave to his comrades, declaring that it was always better to know the people among whom they went and to whom they spoke. Yvernès and Pinchinat replied that he was right in instructing them as to the genealogy of the Pomares, and Sebastien Zorn observed that it was a matter of indifference to him.
The sensitive Yvernès became entirely steeped in the charm of this poetic Tahitian nature. To his memory returned the enchanting narratives of the voyages of Bougainville and Dumont-D’Urville. He did not hide his emotion at the thought that he was to find himself in the presence of this sovereign of New Cythera, of a real Queen Pomare, whose name—
“Signifies ‘ right of coughing’ ” said Frascolin.
“Good!” exclaimed Pinchinat, “as if you were to say the goddess of catarrh, the empress of coryza! Beware, Yvernès, and don’t forget your handkerchief.”
Yvernès was furious at this unseasonable attempt at wit, but the others laughed so heartily that he finished by joining in with them.
The reception of the Governor of Floating Island, his assistants,
and the delegation of the notables took place in great state. The honours were rendered by the mutoi, the chief of the gendarmerie, with whom were some of the native auxiliaries.
Queen Pomare IV. was about forty years of age. She wore, like her family who surrounded her, a ceremonial costume of pale rose, the colour preferred by the Tahitian populace. She received the compliments of Cyrus Bikerstaff with an affable dignity, if such an expression is permissible, which would not have disgraced a European monarch. She replied graciously and in very correct French, for our language is current in the Society Archipelago. She had besides a very great wish to see this Floating Island, of which there had been so much talking in the Pacific, and hoped that its stay would not be the last. Jem Tankerdon was the object of particular attention —much to the disgust of Nat Coverley. This was because the royal family are of the Protestant religion, and Jem Tankerdon was the most notable personage of the Protestant section of Milliard City.
The Quartette Party were not forgotten in the presentations. The Queen deigned to inform its members that she would be charmed to hear them and applaud them. They bowed respectfully, affirming that they were at her Majesty’s command, and the superintendent would arrange for the Queen to be gratified.
After the audience, which lasted for half an hour, the honours given to the procession as it entered the royal palace were repeated as it retired.
The visitors returned to Papaete. A halt was made at the military club, where the officers had prepared a luncheon in honour of the Governor and his companions. The champagne flowed, toasts succeeded, and it was six o’clock when the launches left the Papaete quays for Starboard Harbour.
In the evening, when the Parisian artistes found themselves in the casino, —
“We have a concert in view,” said Frascolin. “What shall we play to her Majesty? Will she understand Mozart or Beethoven?”
“We will play Offenbach, Varney, Lecoq, or Audran!” replied Sebastien Zorn.
“Not at all! The bamboula is plainly suggested!” said Pinchinat, indulging in the characteristic hip motions of this negro dance.
CHAPTER XIV.
The island of Tahiti was destined to become a stopping place for Floating Island. Every year, before pursuing its route towards the tropic of Capricorn, its inhabitants would sojourn in the neighbourhood of Papaete. Received with sympathy by the French authorities as well as by the natives, they showed their gratitude by opening wide their gates, or rather their ports. Soldiers and civilians crowded on to the island, exploring the country, the park, the avenues, and probably no incident would happen to alter this satisfactory state of affairs. At the departure, it is true, the Governor’s police would have to assure themselves that the population had not been fraudulently increased by the intrusion of a few Tahitians, not authorized to take up their abode on his floating domain.
It followed, that by reciprocity, every latitude was given to the Milliardites to visit the islands of the group, when Commodore Simcoe called at one or the other of them.
In view of the stay here, a few rich families had rented villas in the environs of Papaete, and secured them in advance by telegraph. They intended to take up their quarters there, as the Parisians do in the neighbourhood of Paris, with their servants and horses, so as to live the life of large landowners, as tourists, excursionists, sportsmen even although they had little taste for sport. In short, they would have a little country life without having anything to fear from the salubrious climate, the temperature of which ranges between thirty and forty degrees centigrade between April and December the other months of the year constituting the winter in the southern hemisphere.
Among the notables who left their mansions on the island for their country houses ashore were the Tankerdons and the Coverleys. Mr. and Mrs. Tankerdon, their sons and their daughters, departed next day for a picturesque chalet on the heights of Tatao Point. Mr. and Mrs. Coverley, Miss Diana and her sisters left their palace in Fifteenth Avenue for a delightful villa, hidden beneath the big trees of Venus Point. Between these habitations there was a distance of several miles, which Walter Tankerdon perhaps thought a little too long. But it was not in his power to bring these two points of the Tahitian coast any nearer. Besides, there were carriage roads, conveniently arranged to place them in direct communication with Papaete.
Frascolin remarked to Calistus Munbar that if they started in the morning, the two families could not be present at the visit of the commandant to the Governor.
“Well, so much the better!” replied the superintendent, his eyes brightening with diplomatic acuteness. “That will avoid any conflict between them. If the representative of France paid his first visit to the Coverleys, what would the Tankerdons say, and if he went to the Tankerdons, what would the Coverleys say? Cyrus Bikerstaff must be glad of their departure.”
“Is there no reason for hoping that the rivalry of these families will end?” asked Frascolin.
“Who knows?” replied Calistus Munbar.
“It may perhaps depend on the amiable Walter and the charming Diana.”
“Up to the present, however,” observed Yvernès, “it does not seem that this heir and this heiress—”
“Good! good!” replied the superintendent. “It wants an opportunity, and if chance does not bring it about, we may have to take the place of chance—for the good of our beloved island.”
And Calistus Munbar performed a pirouette on his heels, which would have been applauded by Athanase Dorémus, and would not have been disavowed by a marquis in the days of Louis Quatorze.
In the afternoon of the 20th of October, the commander and his staff landed at Starboard Harbour. They were received by the Governor with the honours due to their rank. There was a salute from both batteries. Cars decorated with the French and Milliardite colours took the procession to the capital, where the rooms at the town hall were prepared for this interview. On the road there was a flattering reception from the population, and before the steps of the municipal palace an exchange of official speeches of regulation length.
Then came a visit to the temple, the cathedral, the observatory, the two electric works, the two harbours, the park, and finally a circular trip on the trams round the coast. On the return a luncheon was served in the grand hall of the casino. It was six o’clock when the commandant and his staff embarked for Papaete amid the thunders of the artillery of Standard Island, taking away with him a pleasing remembrance of this reception.
The next morning, the 21st of October, the four Parisians landed at Papaete. They had invited no one to accompany them, not even the professor of deportment, whose legs were not suited for lengthy peregrinations. They were free as the air—like schoolboys on a holiday, happy to have under foot a real soil of rocks and vegetable mould.
In the first place they must visit Papaete. The capital of the archipelago is incontestably a pretty town. The quartette took a real pleasure in wandering about under the lovely trees which shaded the houses on the beach, and the offices and trading establishments near the harbour. Then passing up one of the streets abutting on the quay, where a railway on the American system was working, our artistes ventured into the interior of the city.
There the streets are wide, as well planned with rule and square as the avenues of Milliard City, among gardens of verdure and freshness. Even at this early hour there was a constant passing and re-passing of Europeans and natives, and this animation, which would be greater after eight o’clock in the evening, would last all through the night. You understand that the tropical nights, and particularly Tahitian nights, are not made to spend in bed, although the beds of Papaete are composed of a network of cocoa fibre, a palliasse of banana leaves, and a mattress of tufts of the silk cotton tree, to say nothing of the net protecting the sleeper against the irritating attacks of mosquitoes.
As to the houses, it is easy to distinguish those which are European from those which are Tahitian. The former, built almost entirely of wood, are raised a few feet on blocks of masonry, and
leave nothing to be desired in the way of comfort, The latter, of which there are not many in the town, scattered here and there under the shade of the trees, are made of jointed bamboos covered with matting, which renders them clean, airy and agreeable.
But the natives?
“The natives!” said Frascolin to his comrades. “There are no more here than at the Sandwich Islands; we shall not find those gallant savages, who, before the conquest, dined on a human cutlet, and reserved for their sovereign the eyes of a vanquished warrior roasted according to the recipe of Tahitian cookery!”
“Ah, is that it?” asked Pinchinat. “Then there are no more cannibals in Oceania. What! we shall have voyaged thousands of miles without meeting one of them!”
“Patience!” remarked the violoncellist, beating the air with his right hand like Rodin in the Mysteries of Paris; “we may find one, if it is only to gratify your foolish curiosity.”
The Tahitians are of Malay origin, very probably, and of the race known as Maori. Raiatea, the Holy Island, was the cradle of their Kings—a charming cradle washed by the limpid waters of the Pacific in the Windward group.
Before the arrival of the missionaries, Tahitian society comprised three classes: those of the princes, privileged persons who were recognized as possessing the gift of performing miracles; chiefs, or owners of the soil, of little consideration, and reduced to servitude by the princes; the common people, possessing nothing, or when they did possess it, having nothing beyond a life interest in the land.
All this has been changed since the conquest, and even before, under the influence of the English and Catholic missionaries. But that which has not changed is the intelligence of the natives, their lively speech, their cheerful disposition, their unfailing courage, their physical beauty. The Parisians could not help admiring this in the town and in the country.
“What fine men!” said one.