Unsuspected Riches

In Old Robin-Rougier House

From Our Own Correspondent

Papeete, Mar. 10.

WHEN the Three Musketeers of early Tahitian commerce—Robin, Mar tigny and Manson—acquired the broad acres at Taaone (which later became a sugar plantation, and subse quently the baronial demesne of the late Father Emmanuel Rougier), each built for himself a spacious and lordly mansion, Robin’s and Martigny’s were erected on adjacent parcels of land, near the shore of the sea, facing Taunoa Pass. Manson built his house inland, under the shadow of the foothills and, with an eye beyond the horizons of this world, erected in the centre of the combined estate a stout mausoleum, destined to hold the bones of all three.

Robin’s mansion, a solidly-built rec tangular structure, of two main stages, contains a series of high, stately rooms on the first floor and many spacious sleeping apartments above. Underneath are dark, dungeon-like cellars into which —in Robin’s time—no one was allowed to look.

Eighty years ago, morals were no bet ter than they are to-day, and the secret of the dungeons was explained by the tongue of rumour to be connected with unlawful traffic.

In the days of Queen Pomare IV, the coasts were not well guarded. It would not have been a difficult matter to bring in, by night, on small boats, through Taunoa Pass, from a ship outside the barrier reef, all manner of costly mer chandise. to be deposited in the caverns under the Robin mansion, against the day of safe distribution.

As the years passed, there grew, beside the rumour of smuggling, a legend of rich treasure of golden louis and sov ereigns and double eagles, amassed from this nefarious traffic and safely hidden within, or somewhere near, the mansion.

Superstitious people have alleged that the treasure is guarded by shades from the mausoleum. Fear of ghostly sentinels has not, however, deterred recent owners and tenants from diligent search for the reputed hoard.

After Father Rougier, rich plantation owner and successful merchant, acquired the property he is said to have thumped, sounded or prodded every square milli meter of wall, cellar, bog and solid ground on the demesne, in a vain quest.

Success has been reserved for the pre sent owner. After discarding plans to re-model the old mansion, he resolved to pull it down.

When the workmen tore away the lath and plaster from the interior walls there lay revealed an unsuspected trea sure—not of gold, ivory and emeralds, but of sound, stout, unblemished red wood—seasoned through eight decades and, at this period of lumber famine, almost worth its weight in gold.

Thus a legend and an historic land mark of old Tahiti pass into oblivion.