Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. 3, No. 15, August, 1851

"Neen, mynheer, neen; best not to have the window open; thieves will come in."

"Surely," I replied, "there are no thieves in this little village?"

"Ah, but there were some thieves at Meppel last week."

The landlady's apprehensions seemed so painful to her, that I ceased to press the question, and followed her into the room, where she assured me I should find the air sufficiently respirable, and bade me goede nacht.

In this room there were several wall-recesses, as in the other, but cleaner and better fitted up. A bedstead at one corner, behind a narrow screen extending a few feet from the door, was intended for me; the sheets and coverlids, though coarse, were clean. Three wardrobes or presses stood against the walls, so richly dark and antique in appearance, and of such tasteful workmanship, that you at once knew the date to be assigned to their manufacture, probably about the time that the Prince of Orange fell beneath Geraart's pistol-shot; at all events, when, instead of working by contract, artificers interfused a portion of their own spirit into the productions of their skill. The chairs, by their dimensions, had been clearly intended for the past generations, who wore the broad skirts at which we so often smile in prints of old costumes. The projection of the largest articles of furniture produced sundry picturesque effects of light and shade, relieved and diversified by the rows of polished pewter dishes ranged on racks against the wall alternately with dishes of rare old china, that would have gladdened the eyes of a virtuoso. There were rows of spoons, also, of shining, solid pewter, all betokening resources of substantial comfort, and assisting to give effect to a picture which fully occupied my attention while undressing.

The hostess, when she went out, had not closed the door; this I cared little about, as it afforded some facility for circulation of air; but her remark touching the thieves made me take the precaution to place my watch and purse under the pillow, leaving such loose florins as were in my pocket for any prowler who might think it worth while to pay me a visit, that, finding some booty, he might there cease his search for more. I left the candle burning on the table, and soon afterward the girl came in and wished me a goede nacht as she carried it away.

Presently all became still in the house, and as weariness softens the hardest bed, I was soon asleep, notwithstanding the annoyance from certain insects, which were neither bugs nor fleas, that came crawling over me. I had lain thus in quiet repose for two or three hours, when I was disturbed by a light shining in the room, and half-raising my eyelids, I saw a tall figure clothed in white, holding a candle in its hand, and gazing stealthily at me from behind the screen at the foot of the bed. I did not start up or cry out, for a sufficient reason – I was too drowsy. The figure withdrew; the room again became dark; I turned round, and slept soundly until morning.

I was up soon after five, being desirous to recommence my walk before the heat came on, and, it need scarcely be said, found all my property as I had left it. The old presses looked not less imposing than in the faintly-illuminated gloom some hours previously; and I could see in the daylight several articles which had then escaped my notice. Among them was the groote bijbel, a portly folio in black letter, and in good condition. How many suffering hearts had found support and consolation in those ancient pages! When I went into the next room, the laborers had taken their breakfast, and gone to their work, and the old lady sat near the window mending stockings. She saluted me by inquiring if I had wel geslaapt, and what I would take for breakfast. I chose raspberries with milk and bread, and highly enjoyed the fresh-gathered fruit that looked so tempting, coated with its early bloom. It was the most acceptable breakfast of any which I ate in Holland. The hostess chatted on various topics: in one of my replies, I chanced to mention the large Bible which I had seen in the other room – "Ah," she said, "it is the best of books: what should we do without it?" I then told her that a little Bible was part of the contents of my knapsack, and on hearing this her manner at once changed; the suspicion disappeared, and the benevolent demeanor resumed its place. My request of the night before concerning the window had made her very anxious; she had, it seemed, been led to regard me as a suspicious character – as one likely to let in a confederate, or to decamp myself surreptitiously. From this I at once understood it was she who, clad in white, and holding a candle, had come into my room during the night; perhaps to see whether her guest were lying still as an honest traveler ought. We became, however, very excellent friends, and I regretted not having time to stay two or three days, to get a little further insight into village life, and the pursuits and resources of its inhabitants: but that could not be. I was somewhat surprised on asking, "Hoe veel betalen?" (How much to pay?) at the cheapness of my lodging and entertainment: the charge was only eighteen stivers. I handed a florin to the old lady, with an intimation that the two stivers' change might go to the maid for her alacrity in raspberry plucking, on which she replied, "Dank voor haar," with much emphasis. Then holding out her hand, after assisting to place my knapsack in position, she bade me good-by, with many wishes for a prosperous journey.

It was a pleasant morning, with a bright sky and a hot sun, and a feeling of exhilaration came over me as I left the close, sickening smell of the house for the free and fresh air outside. The aspect of the country was again different from that which I had already traversed. Willows, so plentiful in the southern provinces, are rare on the dry heath-lands of the north, while small plantations, and woods of birch, beech, and oak are frequently met with. At times the route led along narrow, winding lanes, between tangled hedges and overhanging trees, where the shade and coolness made you feel the contrast the greater on emerging upon the unsheltered and unfenced fields. Before long, I came to another village, where the houses were built at random around a real village green, such as you may see in some parts of Berkshire or Hampshire, with tall umbrageous trees springing from the soft turf, and old folk lounging, and children playing in their shadow. The post, which visits the towns of Holland every day throughout the year, comes to such villages as this two or three times a week, and thus keeps up its communications with the great social world around. In another particular they are well provided for – the means of instruction. Here, at one end of the green, stood the schoolhouse, built of brick, well lighted, and in good condition, decidedly the best building in the place. Indeed I do not remember to have seen a shabby schoolhouse in Holland. It was too early to see the scholars at their duties, but I looked in at the windows, and saw that the interior was perfectly clean and well-ordered; fitted with desks, closets, and shelves, with piles of books placed ready for use on the latter, and maps hanging on the walls. How I wished for a six months' holiday, to be able to linger at will among these out-of-the-world communities, or wherever any thing more particularly engaged my attention! Something to inform the mind or instruct the heart is to be given or received wherever there are human beings. Soon after passing the village, the road terminated suddenly on a part of the wild heath, where the sand for nearly a mile on all sides lay bare, gleaming palely in the sun, and no sign of a track visible in any direction. For a few minutes I stood completely at fault, but at last bent my steps toward some scattered trees in the distance. The deserts of Africa can hardly be more dreary or trying to the wayfarer than that mile of sand was to me. On reaching the trees, I again found a lane leading through cultivated grounds; now a patch of grass, then barley, or wheat, or potatoes, or buckwheat – the delicate blossoms of the latter scenting the whole atmosphere, and alive with "innumerable bees." While standing still to listen to their labor-inspired hum, I heard the cuckoo telling his cheerful name to the neighborhood, although past the middle of July. Then followed homely farms, standing a little off the road, the homestead surrounded by rows of trees, somewhat after the fashion of Normandy; and in one corner of the inclosure the never-failing structure – four tall poles, erected in a parallelogram, with a square thatched roof fitted upon them, sloping down on each side to form a central point. The poles pass through the corners of this roof, which thus can be made to slide up and down, according as the produce stored beneath it is increased or diminished. Such a contrivance would perhaps be useful to small farmers in England, when straitened for room in their barns. Now and then I caught glimpses of haymakers working far off on a meadow patch, and more than once the signs of tillage disappeared, and there was the broad black heath under my feet, and stretching away to the horizon, here and there intersected by a series of drains, cut smooth and deep in the sandy soil, inclosing some acres of the barren expanse – the preliminaries of cultivation. Then would come a mile or so of woodland, with the thinnings and loppings of the trees cut into lengths, and piled in stacks ready for the market, as I had seen on the wharfs at Rotterdam, where firewood sells at eleven cents the bundle. A party of woodcutters, with their wives and children, were encamped at the entrance of a cross-road, disturbing the general stillness by the sound of their voices and implements. The men and women were alike tall and stout – remarkable specimens of the well-developed population of the province, and reminding you of the peasantry in Westmoreland. The stacks which they had set up were so long and high as to resemble a street with little alleys between, where the children played while their fathers chopped and sawed, and their mothers tied the bundles, or tended the fire over which the round pot swung with the breakfast. They called out a friendly "Good-day, mynheer," as I passed.

As the day advanced, it became oppressively hot; not a drop of drinkable water was any where to be seen. I went to a cottage near the road to ask for a draught, when a pitcherful was given to me that looked like pale coffee, and was vapid and unrefreshing. The occupants of the cottage told me that they were always obliged to strain it before drinking, to free it from the fibres of turf held in suspension. These people, their child, and their house were positively dirty, and looked comfortless: the pigs lay in one corner of the kitchen, and the domestic utensils stood about in apparently habitual disorder. They, however, were kind in their manner, and wished me to sit down for a time and rest.

Besides these and the woodcutters, I scarcely met a soul during the walk, which lasted nearly four hours, by which time I came to the outskirts of Ommerschans. I went into the tavern that stood at the extremity of the long straight road leading through the centre of the colony, where, after half-an-hour's rest, ten minutes' sleep, and a cup of tea, I felt able to go and present myself to the director.

THE LAST PRIESTESS OF PELE

My erratic habits have led me through a variety of climes and scenes, and, on two occasions, to the distant regions of Polynesia, even to the shores of Hawaii, memorable as the death-scene of our famous navigator, Cook. Hawaii is the principal of the Sandwich Islands, a group not exceeded in interest by any which stud the broad bosom of the Pacific. Their local situation, advantageous for purposes of commerce, is highly important; but these remote shores present various subjects of interest besides geographical position. The primitive race who inhabit them, so long and totally isolated from the rest of the world, the enchanting beauty of their scenery, the luxurious productions of their salubrious climate, indicative of peace and plenty, furnish subjects worthy of investigation; while, strangely contrasted with these bounties of nature, is the awful sublimity of their volcanic mountains, that too often burst forth into eruptions which spread frightful devastation over scenes glowing with beauty, particularly the volcano of Kiranea, probably the largest in the world. Even the first view of this island struck me as remarkable, for it looks like congeries of mountains on one common base, heaving their huge cones to the height of fourteen or sixteen thousand feet above the level of the sea, while the lower grounds, every where irregular, were covered with trees and with the richest verdure. We were hospitably received by a native chief. An Englishman who had long resided on the island acted as interpreter, and by this means, as well as some knowledge which we had acquired of the Polynesian language during a visit to Tahiti, my brother officers and I made arrangements for a visit to the great volcano. It is well I should here remind the reader of an event which proved to be an influential epoch in the history of the people we were now among – the abolition of their ancient and cruel system of idolatry, which was effected in the year 1819, by a king whose natural good sense had enabled him to perceive its absurdity and ill-consequences; so that when, some months after, a few missionaries arrived from America with the philanthropic intention of introducing the blessings of Christianity among them, they found, by what was unquestionably a providential interposition, the nation without any religion, released from the trammels of their ancient superstitions, and, so far, prepared to receive the truths which they were come to proclaim. These missionaries had been settled in the islands a few years when my visit took place, and had many converts.

The volcano we were desirous of seeing was thirty miles from the place of our landing, and we set out for it on the following day, attended by some of the natives, and also by the English settler, to act as interpreter. The commencement of our journey seemed auspicious, leading through a wood, where trees afforded a grateful shade from the heat of a tropical sun, while gorgeous birds fluttered among their boughs, or regaled us with the melody of their songs. The fragrant gardenia, and other beautiful flowers, so highly prized in our own country as hot-house plants, profusely adorned our path. But too soon the scene began to change. By degrees, trees, shrubs, and flowers disappeared – all traces of vegetation, except an occasional oasis. We were traversing a tract of lava that looked like an inland sea, over which the wand of an enchanter had suddenly waved while it was agitated by violent undulations, and turned it into stone. Not only were the swells and hollows distinctly marked, but the surface of the billows seemed covered by a smaller ripple. Our passage over this petrified ocean was most laborious, owing to the heat of the sun, the reflection of its light from the lava, and also the unevenness of the way, which was as slippery as glass.

Just as day declined, we hailed with pleasure the residence of a chief, where we were to pass the night, our friend at the harbor having commissioned our attendants to introduce us as strangers in need of the owner's hospitality, which was readily accorded. Our host and his establishment evinced that advancement toward civilization was not limited to the coast. His dwelling was divided into separate apartments by screens of native cloth, and we were ushered into a large, airy, reception-room, where we reposed our weary limbs on a divan covered with mats, which extended the whole length of the apartment. A feast was prepared for our entertainment; but I refrain from an account of the baked dogs, hogs, and other dainties which adorned the board. During the repast, a native bard sang, in a monotonous but sweet voice, "the deeds of the days of other years," accompanying himself by beating a little drum formed of a beautifully stained calabash; and then a group of dancers were introduced for our amusement. But nothing interested me so much as our host, who sat next to me at supper, performing the duties of hospitality with an intuitive good-breeding and tact which I thought quite a sufficient substitute for the conventional usages of European society. He was, in common with all the aristocratic race of Hawaii, tall, well-formed, with fine, muscular limbs, and a commanding air; his complexion clear olive, and his handsome features wore an open and intelligent expression. To my surprise, he spoke very tolerable English; this was accounted for by long intimacy with our friend the interpreter, and with the missionaries, who, since their settlement in the island, had taught him to read. I was glad when he announced his intention of accompanying us to the volcano, our journey to which we recommenced the following morning. A toilsome one it proved, but Toleho, the young chief, stuck close to me, and from such snatches of conversation as I could hold with him, while we scrambled over masses of vitrified lava and basaltic blocks jumbled together in wild confusion, the interest I had felt in him at first sight was considerably increased. At length we reached the great plain of the volcano, and the mountain of Mauna Loa burst upon our view in all its magnificence, like an immense dome, of a bronze color, rising from a plain twenty miles in breadth; its head was covered with snow, the effect of which is peculiar when beheld under a tropical sun.

Nearly overcome with heat and fatigue, we sat down to rest. Through the fissures of the rocks, there grew an abundance of small bushes bearing fruit of a pleasant flavor, which we eagerly gathered to allay our thirst. To this some of the natives objected, asserting that the berries belonged to Pele, the goddess of the volcano, who would be much incensed by our eating them, until some had been thrown into the crater as a propitiatory oblation. The English settler who accompanied us, set about proving the absurdity of their fears, and, while the point was being discussed, I observed that Toleho, who was seated with me apart from the others, was quietly refreshing himself with the forbidden fruit. I inquired why he also did not fear the wrath of the formidable goddess?

"Toleho knows better," he replied. "Toleho knows that there is but one God; without His leave, the volcano can not hurt us. He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth; he toucheth the hills, and they smoke."

I now learned from him that, under the instruction of the missionaries, he had been led to embrace the truths of Christianity.

"I have lately avowed this conviction," he said; "and were I to remain in this country, would do my utmost to promote a knowledge of the Bible among my friends and people."

"And have you any idea of leaving this country?" I inquired, with surprise.

"Alas! yes, I must leave it," he replied, in a voice and with a look of such deep dejection, that I understood it to be a subject of too distressing a nature for further interrogatories, and we spoke about other matters until the party was sufficiently rested to proceed to the crater of Kiranea. I expected that we were for this purpose to ascend the mountain which stood before us in such majestic beauty, and, undaunted by the magnitude of the task, I longed to climb its stupendous sides, and to inhale the pure atmosphere at its summit, so that it was with a feeling of disappointment I heard myself called upon to behold the crater upon the very plain to which we had already attained. At first view, it seemed to be nothing but a huge black pit, totally different from all we had imagined. There were no jets of fire, nothing but a body of black smoke, rising high to the clear blue heavens, and then spreading widely over the hemisphere. We journeyed onward, till we found ourselves on the edge of a steep precipice inclosing a sunken plain, in the middle of which was the crater. Our guides led to a part of the precipice where descent was practicable, and, with some falls and bruises, we all reached the basin beneath, which sounded hollow under our tread, giving evidence, by smoking fissures here and there, of subterranean burnings. As we advanced, the impression of vastness and grandeur increased at every step; but, when we stopped at the edge of the great crater, the sight was appalling. There we stood, mute with astonishment and awe, transfixed like statues, our eyes riveted on the abyss below, a vast flood of burning matter rolling to and fro in a state of frightful ebullition. I know not how long we thus gazed, in speechless wonder; but the natives had, meanwhile, employed themselves in constructing, of branches of trees, ferns, and rushes, which, nourished by the moisture of vapors, grew in chasms of lava, huts to shelter us during the night, now fast approaching, and to them we were glad to repair, when our emotion had somewhat subsided. The attendants now cooked our supper in a crevice from which steam issued, and, after doing ample justice to their labors in this volcanic cuisine, I again walked to the edge of the crater, accompanied by Toleho.

It was now quite dark, and truly it has been said, that what is wonderful in the day becomes ten times more so at night. Now was the time for viewing the volcano in all its magnificence. We seated ourselves at a height of four or five hundred feet, directly over that lake of fire: its cherry-colored waves were rolling below, with billows crested and broken into sheets and spray of fire, like waters when the hurricane sweeps them over a reef of rocks. There was a low murmuring noise, and occasionally masses of red-hot matter were ejected seventy feet into the air, which fell back into the lake with a hissing sound. My companion, though accustomed from childhood to these wonders, seemed fully to participate in my feelings. He evidently possessed a soul susceptible of the sublime and beautiful and the scene on which we gazed was associated in his mind, as I afterward learned, with early and endearing recollections. He was gratified by my admiration of it, and this congeniality of taste soon led him to treat me with the confidence of an old friend. Presuming upon this, I ventured to recur to the hint he had dropped that morning of an intention to quit his native island, inquiring whether his profession of Christianity had subjected him to any kind of persecution? He told me in reply, that Hawaiian converts were nearly exempted from this ordeal of sincerity by the edict which had abolished idolatry before the missionaries' arrival. "But," he added, with intense feeling, "Toleho found the change hard, notwithstanding. No fear of Pele; even were there any such, what could that cruel goddess do to one who trusted in Jesus? But Pele's priestess – the last she will ever have, but the loveliest, the dearest of women – it was that Toleho found so hard." My expression of sympathy elicited his full confidence, and, in a conversation which followed, interrupted as our colloquial intercourse necessarily was by our imperfect acquaintance with each other's language, I became possessed of an outline of Toleho's previous history, which subsequent information enabled me to fill up, as I shall now give it in detail.

The young Hawaiian chief had, when a child, been betrothed to the hereditary priestess of Pele, the Goddess of Fire, supposed to inhabit the volcano of Kiranea. Whether this redoubtable deity be in any way related to Bel, the Oriental god of the same terrible element, greater scholars and antiquarians than I am must determine; but it seems to me that the similarity of the names is a curious coincidence, which would be not an uninteresting subject of investigation. The young priestess was the only child of the khan, or steward of Pele, an office of honor and emolument, his duty being to provide materials for the sacrifices, such as cloth, hogs, fowls, and fruit, with which he was abundantly furnished by her worshipers. The young lovers were constant companions during their childhood, and were linked together by the endearing bonds of early affection, which grew with their growth, and strengthened with their strength. It appeared that the devotion of Toleho had never been so ardently rendered to the imaginary goddess as to her beautiful young priestess, for his natural acuteness often led him to skeptical conclusions when he considered the national system of theology; nor had his superior mind long dwelt upon such subjects, when, in the words of a poet who has well described a somewhat similar case,9