And Its Gilbertian Sequel

The "Aimable Josephine" Massacre

THIS is a story of ruthless piracy and a grim massacre in Fiji that had a Gilbertian sequel.

In 1831. when Ratu Seru (afterwards King Cakobau) was still almost a youth, and full 40 years before the cession of Fiji by Britain, there arrived in the group a French brig, the Aimable Jose phine, captained and owned by one Des bureaux, whaler, beche-de-mer, turtle shell, and sandalwood trader.

At that time, more than one white man had followed the example of Charlie Savage and Charlie Connor in taking part with one tribe or another in the ceaseless native wars on Na Viti Levu.

Trading was too slow for Desbureaux and his crew, but so also were the petty guerilla affrays of the mainland. They had a stout brig, muskets and cannon; what a chance for a new kind of filibus tering! The Kai Viti were forever at feud in any case: why not see what pickings were to be had by lending assistance to one of the more ambitious chiefs?

They had not far to seek for an ally.

The indomitable Tui (King) Makanasese, of the island of Viwa, was the man: a fierce and bloody-handed fighter. In return for pearls, trepang, turtle-shell and sandalwood, Desbureaux proposed to lend his brig as transport for Viwan warriors, and to support them with his cannon and the muskets of his crew. Tui Makanasese saw the possibilities . . .

Very soon he would be not merely Tui Viwa but Tui Viti! Thus, the black Alexander.

For a time they prospered, adding one successful raid to another until the terror of Makanasese’s name spread wide through the group.

But Makanasese, the ambitious chief of Viwa, and Makanasese, the firmly-estab lished and greatly-feared ruler of wide flung territories, were two different per sons to deal with. In the interim, Des bureaux and his filibusters had descended to the native level, even to the point, it is said, of allowing the great pots for trying-out whale oil to be used in the preparation of cannibal orgies aboard the Aimable Josephine. The black Alexander at last decide that he no longer needed their support; why continue to pay them tribute?

With a band of chosen warriors he boarded the brig. It was soon done. The French were completely off their guard.

Great war-clubs rose and fell, the deck of the Aimable Josephine became the scene of one final feast, and thencefor ward Tui Makanasese reigned alone.

But the massacre was not to go un avenged, though four years were to pass before the miscreants of Viwa were to feel the anger of Desbureaux’s country men.

Monsieur le Contre-amiral Dumont d’Urville, in command of the corvettes

Astrolabe and Zelee, cruising at Vavau in 1838, was told by missionaries of the fate of his compatriots.

Sacred name of a name! ... A French brig taken and Frenchmen assassinated by black cannibals! . . . Un Filibustier? . . . Eh, bien; but still a Frenchman! . . . Where was this? ... In Fiji? . . .

Bien, we go to Fiji! . . .

The voyage is not long. Soon they arrive at Lakeba, where the command ant’s launch is hoisted out. Monsieur le Contre-amiral, resplendent in full uni form, makes a formal visit to the Tui Lakeba, to demand information.

While he and his escort are ashore, the rest of the crew are left to gaze idly with longing eyes at the palm-fringed beach.

An indication of what some of them at least were thinking is given in this brief quotation from the pen of M. Elie Le Guillour, Surgeon-major of the Zelee in his narrative Voyage Autour Du Monde dc VAstrolabe et de la Zelee : "Every time that I coast along these countries so well adorned, so endowed by Heaven, so rich in luscious fruits, of such perpetual peace, I ask myself why the millions of Europeans, poverty stricken and suffering at home, do not emigrate and come and find here the repose and abundance that their own land does not offer them . .

At last, here comes le Commandant.

But who is that great savage with him?

Of a certainty, a chief: see his train of tapa and that great club. Xom de Dieu, what a souvenir ...

Monsieur le Contre-amiral, naturally, has not cruised so long among the delec table isles of Oceania without acquiring a wide knowledge of the character of the inhabitants. They vary a little, of course.

in different groups but at least one trait is common to all: their love of fighting.

To have a neighbour is to have an enemy.

He had reckoned on that characteristic in this instance, and it appears his judg ment has been completely confirmed. Tui Lakeba, himself unaware where the mas sacre happened, is willing, nay, anxious to pilot them to Bau, of which state he is

subject, where they will be sure to obtain details. Wiill the great French chief allow him, the Tui Lakeba, to take part in the well deserved reprisals?

The great French chief will. This uni versal enmity simplifies things consider ably. He will teach the assassins to res pect the name of Frenchman in future!

While M. Dumont-d’Urville is ceremoni ously introducing his new-found pilot and would-be ally to his senior officers, a small, fast-sailing canoe carrying the mata (herald) of Lakeba slips out from a beach hidden behind a palm-clad point of land a little way along the coast, and heads swiftly away towards Bau.

M. Dumont-d’UrviLle was to leave Fiji without obtaining any idea of the intri cate native system of tribal alliances or suspecting how completely he had been hoaxed by the allies Bau, Lakeba and Viwa, Quite unsuspecting, he walk the quar

ter deck of L'Astrolabe as, followed by the Zclee, she moves over a shining, sapphire sea. He glances from time to time at the Tui Lakeba and congratulates himself on having so quickly acquired such an eager and useful ally.

At Bau they are received with great respect and ceremony. Does the Roko Tui Bau know who were the killers of the French chief Desbureaux and his men? . . , Sobosobo! Yes, the pig hearted Makanasese of Viwa did it The Roko Tui Bau has long wanted to punish Viwa for killing his good friends the French, only the Viwans are strong; stronger even than Bau. But now that the great French chief has come with his ships the matter will be simple, if they but take care not to let news of their coming reach Viwa.

Here and there among the chiefs as sembled, the ghost of a smile flickers across a paint-blackened face as Viwan warriors in the background listen to the words of their guileful high-chief.

They re-embark. The Tui Lakeba is still their pilot. The order on both cor vettes is that none shall hail any canoe during the brief promenade and should any canoe speak to them they must answer in English to hide their real nationality; and, lastly, should they be boarded, the stranger must be kept on board until Viwa has been punished—M.

Dumont-d’Urville does not intend to ruin his chances by carelessness!

All is subdued excitement aboard the corvettes. The voyage has been rather uneventful of late: here is a welcome chance against an enemy of La Belle France! All cannot participate; though, secure in the knowledge of their strength and the righteousness of the ! r cause, all are eager. This is no mere routine matter: let lots be drawn for the places of honour in the landing force.

It is done. About 40 men from each corvette are chosen and armed with mus kets and swords. The Viwan warriors are said to number about 60, but there may be more; the prestige of France demands that no chances shall be taken.

Joyfully, the chosen avengers set out for shore in pinnace and launch: they find that they are too deeply laden to clear the coral patches near the beach.

But that is—Pouf! —a mere bagatelle to the navy of France. Over the gunwales they go and charge through the shallows to the beach, now ominously deserted.

The town their objective is hidden behind a long mound —a natural rampart. With set, eager faces the marines and volun teers form up and begin a cautious ad vance, eyes and ears intent, muskets at the ready and fingers on the triggers.

A heavy silence hangs over the scene, broken only by the boom of surf on the outer reef and the protesting squeak of the sand beneath the heavy tread of four score feet.

At any moment now the welkin may be rent by fierce Viwan war-cries as hid den warriors spring from their conceal ment. From the French ranks a clear command rings out: “ Char-r-gezl Mes enfants —” and the huzzaing marines

surge eagerly over and round the ram part into an empty town!

Nonplussed, the punitive force stands among the abandoned vales. Something has gone wrong somewhere: the enemy has taken to the bush. Impossible to follow them there. Completely deflated and rather sheepish the men of France look disgustedly at the perennial green of the silent, heat-oppressed jungle.

Somewhere, far off in the forest maze, a lali begins to throb. To the listening French it carries a note of jeering defiance. The leader of the landing force snaps an angry command and soon wisps of smoke rise from the dry thatch of the houses. But they are not to go entirely unrewarded. In one of the burning Imres a pig is squealing in terror; it is quickly rescued and carried off in triumph to the corvettes, while the town goes up in flames.

It seems that the honour of France is satisfied with this futile “punishment,” for the vessels weigh anchor immediately and leaving the Viwans to the task—easy to natural communists—of rebuilding their koro from the inexhaustable store of nature everywhere at hand, return to Bau.

In an attempt to impress the natives and save what face they can, after their late discomfiture, M. le Contre-amiral Dumont-d’Urville lands with his officers in full-dress uniform, accompanied by a well-armed ascort.

The Roko Tui Bau, not to be outdone, receives them in the fcoro square, where his warriors are drawn up in order of battle. The farce is not yet done.

Roko Tui Bau, with the Fijian’s love of a good joke and the finesse of an artist, plays it to the end. He makes a long speech in praise of the French, and how they have “routed” Makanasese and his warriors and sacked Viwa. Our Gallic Contre-amiral reacting mercurially to the majestic and so obviously sincere paean of praise, responds with a speech of almost equal flamboyance and exagger ation. He ends by promising the sup port of the French navy to Bau against aggressors if, in the future, that great monarch will extend his protection to Frenchmen in Fiji.

As a final indication of the valour of French arms, the marines give an ex hibition of military evolutions and show their skill with the musket by firing at a stationary target. This last is the crowning act of burlesque, and the chiefs and warriors of Bau (who have already, for 30 years or more, used and been familiar with European firearms) receive the exhibition fittingly with much vudi kalou (snapping of fingers accompanied by exclamations of great wonder).

A feast is then given in honour of the white conquerors of Viwa, who finally sail away, happy in the conviction that they have achieved some useful object and suitably impressed the native mind with the might of La Belle France.

E.W.

Mr. Albert F. Ellis, N.Z. representative of the British Phosphate Commission, arrived in Sydney from Auckland by the Niagara on May 8,