In
its vicinity is an extensive sugar plantation - the best in the South
Seas, perhaps - worked by a person from Sydney.
The patrimonial property of the husband of Pomaree, and every way a
delightful retreat, Partoowye was one of the occasional residences of
the court. But at the time I write of it was permanently fixed there,
the queen having fled thither from Tahiti.
Partoowye, they told us, was by no means the place Papeetee was. Ships
seldom touched, and very few foreigners were living ashore. A
solitary whaler, however, was reported to be lying in the harbour,
wooding and watering, and to be in want of men.
All things considered, I could not help looking upon Taloo as offering
"a splendid opening" for us adventurers. To say nothing of the
facilities presented for going to sea in the whaler, or hiring
ourselves out as day labourers in the sugar plantation, there were
hopes to be entertained of being promoted to some office of high
trust and emolument about the person of her majesty, the queen.
Nor was this expectation altogether Quixotic. In the train of many
Polynesian princes roving whites are frequently found: gentleman
pensioners of state, basking in the tropical sunshine of the court,
and leading the pleasantest lives in the world. Upon islands little
visited by foreigners the first seaman that settles down is generally
domesticated in the family of the head chief or king; where he
frequently discharges the functions of various offices, elsewhere
filled by as many different individuals. As historiographer, for
instance, he gives the natives some account of distant countries; as
commissioner of the arts and sciences, he instructs them in the use of
the jack-knife, and the best way of shaping bits of iron hoop into
spear-heads; and as interpreter to his majesty, he facilitates
intercourse with strangers; besides instructing the people generally
in the uses of the most common English phrases, civil and profane;
but oftener the latter.
These men generally marry well; often - like Hardy of Hannamanoo - into
the Wood royal.
Sometimes they officiate as personal attendant, or First Lord in
Waiting, to the king. At Amboi, one of the Tonga Islands, a vagabond
Welshman bends his knee as cupbearer to his cannibal majesty. He
mixes his morning cup of "arva," and, with profound genuflections,
presents it in a cocoa-nut bowl, richly carved. Upon another island
of the same group, where it is customary to bestow no small pains in
dressing the hair - frizzing it out by a curious process into an
enormous Pope's head - an old man-of-war's-man fills the post of
barber to the king. And as his majesty is not very neat, his mop is
exceedingly populous; so that, when Jack is not engaged in dressing
the head intrusted to his charge, he busies himself in gently
titillating it - a sort of skewer being actually worn about in the
patient's hair for that special purpose.
Even upon the Sandwich Islands a low rabble of foreigners is kept
about the person of Tammahammaha for the purpose of ministering to
his ease or enjoyment.
Billy Loon, a jolly little negro, tricked out in a soiled blue jacket,
studded all over with rusty bell buttons, and garnished with shabby
gold lace, is the royal drummer and pounder of the tambourine. Joe, a
wooden-legged Portuguese who lost his leg by a whale, is violinist;
and Mordecai, as he is called, a villainous-looking scamp, going
about with his cups and balls in a side pocket, diverts the court with
his jugglery. These idle rascals receive no fixed salary, being
altogether dependent upon the casual bounty of their master. Now and
then they run up a score at the Dance Houses in Honolulu, where the
illustrious Tammahammaha III afterwards calls and settles the bill.
A few years since an auctioneer to his majesty came near being added
to the retinue of state. It seems that he was the first man who had
practised his vocation in the Sandwich Islands; and delighted with
the sport of bidding upon his wares, the king was one of his best
customers. At last he besought the man to leave all and follow him,
and he should be handsomely provided for at court. But the auctioneer
refused; and so the ivory hammer lost the chance of being borne
before him on a velvet cushion when the next king went to be crowned.
But it was not as strolling players, nor as footmen out of employ,
that the doctor and myself looked forward to our approaching
introduction to the court of the Queen of Tahiti. On the contrary, as
before hinted, we expected to swell the appropriations of bread-fruit
and cocoa-nuts on the Civil List by filling some honourable office in
her gift.
We were told that, to resist the usurpation of the French, the queen
was rallying about her person all the foreigners she could. Her
partiality for the English and Americans was well known; and this was
an additional ground for our anticipating a favourable reception.
Zeke had informed us, moreover, that by the queen's counsellors at
Partoowye, a war of aggression against the invaders of Papeetee had
been seriously thought of. Should this prove true, a surgeon's
commission for the doctor, and a lieutenancy for myself, were
certainly counted upon in our sanguine expectations.
Such, then, were our views, and such our hopes in projecting a trip to
Taloo. But in our most lofty aspirations we by no means lost sight of
any minor matters which might help us to promotion. The doctor had
informed me that he excelled in playing the fiddle. I now suggested
that, as soon as we arrived at Partoowye, we should endeavour to
borrow a violin for him; or if this could not be done, that he should
manufacture some kind of a substitute, and, thus equipped, apply for
an audience of the queen.
