Tahitian Treasure In Madrid Museum

Sacred Relic From Taputapuatea

By Eric Ramsden

IT is not generally known that one of the greatest Polynesian treasures, probably the only one of its kind now in existence in the world, is in Madrid. I am referring to the umete, or bowl of black dolerite, which the Spanish interpreter, Maximo Rodriguez, removed from the Taputapuatea marae at Punauuia, Tahiti, in 1775, and took to his patron, the Viceroy Amat, at Lima.

The bowl eventually found its way to Spain but not before it was used as a receptacle for washing up dishes at Lima.

The story is quite a romantic one.

Maximo was the only member of the party of four Spaniards left by Don Domingo Bonechea at Tautira in 17/4 to achieve any popularity with the Tahitians. The two priests shut themselves up, obviously afraid for their lives. The seaman in attendance upon them was a surly fellow and, through his own foolishness, almost met with the fate that the padres feared.

Maximo, on the other hand knew the Tahitian tongue, and although somewhat narrow-minded—due, doubtless to his re ligious training — was well liked.

When in Tahiti recently I visited Tautira, and was interested to learn that the site of Bonechea’s grave is still a mattor of conjecture. The local tradition is that a valuable jewel was buried with the Spanish commander, when he was buried at the foot of the cross, near the mission,

on the return of the expedition from Raiatea. In all probability the suggestion has no basis in fact. The mission, of course, was a failure,

Maximo Rodriguez’S Journal

In his racy narrative—which by good fortune was found in London some years ago in quite an unexpected manner by Bolton Glanvill Corney—there are several references to the famous black bowl. It is be to have been manufactured in Maupiti, which at that time was subsidiary to Puni, the celebrated chief of Pora Pora.

From Pora Pora it was taken to Raiatea, and then handed over to Tu, the first p om are Maximo came across it in the course of a tour of the island, and had not the slightest hesitation in asking for it. That the Tahitians were not particularly pleased to part with such a sacred object is evident by a subsequent attempt to steal it.

The passages in Maximo’s diary are of interest. On July 10, 1774, when visiting Pomare's people, he wrote: "It dawned clear and calm. I took leave of the chiefs, and came on accompanied by the arii, Otu's (Tu’s) brother. A beautifully wrought bowl of black stone was delivered over to me. This is a unique treasure, which I heard of through one of the natives as being in the possession of the arii Otu, which, on my begging it from him, he had consented to give me. He kept it however, in the district of Atehuru, where there is a large Stone-built cemetery, or marae, whereat they swear him in as arii. . . . . This bowl had been

dedicated to their god Eatua, and consequently I had some doubts whether I should succeed in gain ing possession of it. . . . ”

The bowl was actually handed over at Punauuia or, as the Spaniard calls it, “Teypunagui.” It was so large that it re quired four men to carry it.

The exact locality of this marae, where Maximo saw “a large number of skulls and human remains set out in regular order,” is also a matter for conjecture. It

is to be regretted that the French have not paid more attention to these historic ruins. In some cases maraes were actually dismantled and the stones used for road making or the building of bridges.

Next day, at Pare, the Spaniard was horrified to find that the bowl had been stolen from his canoe. “Which irritated me so much that I even used threats to them,” he says, in the Hakluyt Society’s translation of his journal, which I con sulted in the Mitchell Library in Sydney.

Eventually, the bowl was found buried in the sand, and Maximo spent the night keeping watch over the precious relic. On his return to Tautira on July 18, he noted: “I presently arrived home and found nothing noteworthy except the padres’ lack of interest in my journey. ...”

An Unhappy Mission

An extract from the journal of the priests on the same day is of interest: “The interpreter returned home with his party at 9 o’clock at night from the dis trict of Opare (Pare). . . . He also landed a large bowl made of black stone, and other things. . . .” The padres always wanted to treat poor Maximo as a servant, and invariably referred to him as “the Marine-Interpreter”!

Nothing further was heard of the bowl, after the departure of the Spaniards, fol lowing the close of their pitifully unsuc cessful mission, until 1912. It was then

discovered and identified in the National Collection in Madrid.

The original journal kept by Maximo has never been found, though several copies were known to be in existence. From the outset the padres were suspicious of him — he was only 20 years of age at the time— and did their utmost to discourage him writing at all, despite strict orders from the Viceroy to do so. Keeping the diary, declared Maximo, occasioned him “not a few anxieties, being at times obliged to write in pencil, at others to resort to some makeshift ink that he had prepared in secret, “because I wot not what grudges and suspicions entertained by my com panions against what I might write. . . .”

It was not until the “Beagle” arrived at Lima in 1837, under the command of Cap tain Robert Fitzroy (and with the famous Charles Darwin as a member of his staff), that a copy of the journal came to light.

It was presented to the Royal Geographical Society, of which Captain Fitzroy was an original Fellow, and there remained until discovered quite casually by Corney. The Chevalier Dillon, in his day one of the best known characters in the South Seas, is believed to have had another copy. Don Manuel Tirado, and the daughter of Maximo, gave Captain Fitzroy the copy, which was subsequently translated into English. The recipient was subsequently a particularly unsuccessful Governor of New Zealand.

As for the bowl, which Maximo delivered to the Viceroy, he complained some years later that he had to rescue it later from “the kitchen of a private individual who had dedicated it to the washing up of dishes, in spite of its being, as it really is, a treasure worthy of a niche in the Royal Cabinet for which it was destined.” It was, he added, prized by the Tahitians "as a thing sacred to their God.”

The pity is that there is so little material left in Tahiti and adjacent islands to recall the once splendid past. Even in the museum in Papeete there is really little of any importance, apart from the Mar quesan section. What is left has to be searched for in the museums of Europe and the United States.