When Tonga's Queen

came to the resene

Father Edward Tremblay, for 35 years a well-loved priest in Tonga, died in Oregon, USA, in January. One of Father Tremblay's more famous books was, When You Go to Tonga, published by Daughters of St Paul, Derby, NY m 1954, from which is extracted the following chapter, 7 titled"

God and Tonga are my Heritage". It is chosen because it so warmly illustrates Father Tremblay's regard for the people of Tonga and their regard for him. And there is a footnote added—from Father Tremblay's long-time friend, Patricia Matheson, of Vavau—being her personal tribute on hearing of "Patele's" death.

Time is such a tricky prism. It seems only yesterday that I had the unforgettable thrill of meeting Her Majesty, Queen Salote, for the first time. Actually it was a good twenty years ago. She had come to Haapai for the first time in several years— her first visit since I had been in charge of the Catholic Mission in that twelve-island archipelago.

It was a bright sunny morning in 1932 when all the Catholic people of Lifuka came in a body to pay grateful homage and respect to their Queen, at the nice old wooden house which is always her headquarters when she visits in Lifuka. Leading the procession was our Brass Band.

Then came the smiling convent girls, their legs, arms and faces shining with scented coconut oil. The Sisters fol lowed, accompanied by the other Catholic women, and bringing the Queen a beautifully decorated cake, as well as gifts of mats, fans, etc; and finally the men, attired in their Sunday best and the traditional and distinctive Tongan tao vala (cere monial mat) worn over the ordinary loincloth as a mark of respect.

By the time I arrived at the Queen's house the Sisters and their girls and many of the other women were sitting on the floor of the large veranda which surrounds three sides of the house, all as close as they could get to Her Majesty. But they had left one little space for me, and Queen Salote motioned for me to come and sit down beside her.

As I shook hands with her for the first time, I immediately felt her deep sincerity and maternal solicitude, qualities I admired more and more in her as my years in her Kingdom rolled by. I knew she was interested in our Mission and was glad to be there with us.

As for me, well, I was just simply thrilled through and through. When I

looked out on the “malae” (lawn) and saw what a huge crowd of people was present, I guess I felt like St Paul must have felt in that famous Athens square, the Areopagus. Im mediately and without the least hesi tation, I decided to make a speech.

I whispered to Her Majesty, “May I speak?”

With a big smile, she nodded her approval.

As I watched the complicated and beautiful ceremony of royal kava making, I began to wonder just when I should speak, for I knew there must be a special time for that. I was beginning to be sorry I had made this rash request. It would be em barrassing to address the people in such circumstances and with abso lutely no preparation.

But I turned again to the Queen and said, “Pardon my ignorance of Tongan etiquette. When should I start my speech?”

She whispered reassuringly, “Don’t worry, Patele. I’ll let you know.”

A little later the master of cere monies announced in a thunderous voice that the kava was ready to serve, and Queen Salote whispered to me, “Now is the time.”

As I arose. I sensed a shock of surprise and indignation sweeping through the throng, and suddenly it dawned on me that I had made a faux pas. One must never stand to speak in the presence of Her Majesty! It simply isn’t done at a strictly Tongan ceremony like that where everyone, even the Queen, was sitting on the ground. But it was too late. The disrespectful deed was done.

I had to think fast. There’s nothing like taking the bull by the horns. So, with all outward calmness, I pro ceeded to explain the reason for my action.

“E Afiona (Your Majesty),” I be gan. “I notice a movement of indig-

The treasure which is Tonga's

nant surprise on the faces of this august assembly. How dare I arise to speak in the presence of the Queen of Tonga? Let me hasten to explain. As a white man, according to the white man’s custom I am obliged to arise and remain stand ing. It would not be respectful for me to do otherwise. For the same reason you must remain seated. It is your custom —your mark of respect for your gracious Queen. Please don’t be angry with me. Now you under stand that I stand for no other reason than to show, in the white man’s way, the deepest respect and admiration for Her Majesty, Queen Salote Tupou.”

Thanks to her kindly smile of approval, that little introduction worked wonders. Every face in the crowd was soon shining with peace and attention and eagerness.

“Before I give you the message that 1 have for you today,” I con tinued, “allow me, first of all, to tell you a story.”

Everyone settled down and relaxed.

They just love stories. In that, they are no different from the rest of the world. Everyone loves stories.

“A few months ago,” I told them, “I called at Honolulu, Hawaii. I had a few hours to spare, so I visited the famous Bishop Museum there, which is outstanding for its Poly nesian treasures. An elderly Hawaiian woman was my guide. I spoke Ton gan to her and she spoke Hawaiian to me and we understood each other very well. She knew English too.

“I visited and admired a huge hall known as the Tongan Room.

Then my guide said, with deep emo tion, ‘Now, Father, I’m going to show you the greatest treasures in all Hawaii.’ She led me into another large hall where all the royal para phernalia of the late Queen Liliuoka lani was on exhibition. There were her pearl-inlaid throne, her sceptor, her crown, and her royal cloak made like a Samoan fine mat but decorated with precious red feathers from a cer tain little bird which is now extinct.

This royal garment is valued at a million dollars.

“My guide showed such enthusiasm, such deep veneration and devotion, that I couldn’t help asking the ques tion that had been in my mind all the time, ‘What became of Queen Liliuo kalani? Who is her successor?’

“The woman’s voice quivered with emotion and her eyes filled with tears.

‘She was deposed in 1894,’ she told me. Then she died. We no longer have any Queen. Those happy days of old Hawaii are gone forever.’ ”

My audience was listening tensely now and the silence was profound.

The moment was right for my rhetori cal question: “Sii Kainga o Tonga monuia (dear brethren of blessed Tonga), will there ever be a time, in the future history of Tonga, when the royal robes, the throne, the sceptor and all the personal treasures of your beloved Queen, will be ex hibited in a museum and visitors will be asking, as I asked in Hawaii, ‘Where is your Queen?’ Will some

one answer sadly, There is no longer any Queen or any King in Tonga.

Those happy days are gone forever’?

Will such a time ever come, my friends?”

I paused and the silence was breath less. How they love oratory!

After an impressive moment, I shouted, “No! No! This shall never happen if you remember what I tell you now. Be faithful to your good Tongan customs and language. Be faithful to God and religion. Be faithful to your traditions.

“In Tonga you have no silver mines or gold mines, as some countries have.

But you have a far more precious

treasure, feo’ofoofani (brotherly love).

You have that wonderful family spirit, that willingness to help each other. That is your God-given gold and silver. That is your treasure. That is why the royal coat of arms bears the words: ‘Koe Otua mo Tonga ko hoku Tofia’ (God and Tonga are my heritage).

“Cherish your God-given heritage Don’t lose it by a silly and servile imitation of the white man and his customs and manners. Remember, each nation has its own customs, its own traditions, its own language. Keep yours. Love them. They are part of God’s plan for your happiness. Be faithful to God.

“Now I must warn you of a new ‘religion’ that is growing among you I could sense painful surprise and eager curiosity in my listeners. But the Queen was smiling. Was she guessing what I had in mind? Was she encouraging me to say it?

“Yes, my friends,” I continued, “this new religion is an enemy of the Kingdom of Tonga. Its name is Kumete Kava (the kava dish)!”

I saw dozens of heads going down like a field of golden grain bending under a sudden gust of wind—heads of some of the big chiefs bending in public acknowledgement of guilt. And how Her Majesty was enjoying it! She knew it was for their good.

“Instead of going to church on

Sunday,” 1 continued my indictment, "many of you gather and drink kava!

You are enemies of the state! You are enemies of the Queen! You are hastening the day when her throne will be in a museum, when someone will say, "We have no Queen'.”

Another short, dramatic pause allowed the words to sink into the minds where they were needed. The Queen still smiled. She chuckled with delight when I went on, “Go to church every Sunday! Protestants and Catholics both—go to church! And remember —the doors of the Church are always wide open to welcome everyone!”

When it was all over, Her Majesty thanked me profusely for my little speech. It had pleased her immensely.

We were friends from then on, through all my years in Tonga. Her

kindness to our Catholic people is one of my happiest memories.

Now one last word, an open letter as it were, to Her Majesty, Queen Salote: E Afiona (Your Majesty), do you recall that busy day in August, 1951, when you gave me an audience in your beautiful palace in Nukualofa where I had come to say goodbye before leaving your Kingdom forever?

How kindly and patiently Your Majesty listened to me. How sin cerely you thanked me for my efforts to help your people, who were my people too.

Do you remember, Your Majesty, how just before I left you suddenly arose and, in a spontaneous gesture of motherly gratitude that took me quite by surprise, you kissed me on both cheeks?

God bless your noble heart! May you live to see your grandchildren, the joy and hope of your life, grow up into good and loyal men and women, filled with the love of God and of Christ, Our Blessed Saviour.

May the Prince of Peace ever con tinue His providential protection over your little Kingdom, the happiest little Kingdom in the world. May the words of Your Majesty's splendid motto remain as true in your descen dants, all down through the centuries, as they are in your gracious self:

God And Tonga Are My

Heritage!

Fr Tremblay.