The Belief in Immortality and the Worship of the Dead, Volume I (of 3)

S >> Sir James George Frazer >> The Belief in Immortality and the Worship of the Dead, Volume I (of 3)

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49

[Footnote 328: R. W. Williamson, _op. cit._ pp. 125-152.]

[Footnote 329: R. W. Williamson, _op. cit._ pp. 270 _sq._]

[Footnote 330: J. Chalmers and W. Wyatt Gill, _Work and Adventure in New
Guinea_ (London, 1885), pp. 84-86.]

[Footnote 331: R. E. Guise, "On the Tribes inhabiting the Mouth of the
Wanigela River, New Guinea," _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_,
xxviii. (1899) p. 205.]

[Footnote 332: A. C. Haddon, _Headhunters, Black, White, and Brown_, p.
213.]

[Footnote 333: R. E. Guise, _op. cit._ pp. 216 _sq._]

[Footnote 334: R. E. Guise, _op. cit._ pp. 210 _sq._]

[Footnote 335: R. E. Guise, _op. cit._ p. 211.]

[Footnote 336: R. E. Guise, _op. cit._ pp. 213 _sq._]

[Footnote 337: _Psyche's Task_, pp. 52 _sqq._; _Taboo and the Perils of
the Soul_, pp. 167 _sqq._]

[Footnote 338: C. G. Seligmann, _The Melanesians of British New Guinea_,
p. 607.]

[Footnote 339: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ p. 655.]

[Footnote 340: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 655 _sq._]

[Footnote 341: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ p. 610.]

[Footnote 342: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ p. 611.]

[Footnote 343: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 616 _sq._]

[Footnote 344: C. G. Seligmann. _op. cit._ p. 611.]

[Footnote 345: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 618 _sq._]

[Footnote 346: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 613 _sq._]

[Footnote 347: The Rev. J. T. Field of Tubetube (Slade Island), quoted
by George Brown, D.D., _Melanesians and Polynesians_ (London, 1910), pp.
442 _sq._]

[Footnote 348: Rev. J. T. Field, _op. cit._ pp. 443 _sq._]

[Footnote 349: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 629-631. Dr. Seligmann
seems to think that the custom is at present dictated by courtesy and a
reluctance to grieve the relatives of the deceased; but the original
motive can hardly have been any other than a fear of the ghost.]

[Footnote 350: C. G. Seligmann, _op. cit._ pp. 631 _sq._]

[Footnote 351: Rev. J. Chalmers, "Notes on the Natives of Kiwai Island,
Fly River, British New Guinea," _Journal of the Anthropological
Institute_, xxxiii. (1903) pp. 119, 120.]

[Footnote 352: G. Landtman, "Wanderings of the Dead in the Folk-lore of
the Kiwai-speaking Papuans," _Festskrift tillaegnad Edvard Westermarck_
(Helsingfors, 1912), pp. 59-66.]

[Footnote 353: G. Landtman, _op. cit._ pp. 67 _sq._]

[Footnote 354: G. Landtman, _op. cit._ pp. 68-71.]

[Footnote 355: G. Landtman, _op. cit._ pp. 77 _sq._]

[Footnote 356: G. Landtman, _op. cit._ pp. 78 _sq._]

[Footnote 357: G. Landtman, _op. cit._ p. 71.]

LECTURE X

THE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF GERMAN NEW GUINEA

[Sidenote: Andrew Lang.]

I feel that I cannot begin my second course of lectures without
referring to the loss which the study of primitive religion has lately
sustained by the death of one of my predecessors in this chair, one who
was a familiar and an honoured figure in this place, Mr. Andrew Lang.
Whatever may be the judgment of posterity on his theories--and all our
theories on these subjects are as yet more or less tentative and
provisional--there can be no question but that by the charm of his
writings, the wide range of his knowledge, the freshness and vigour of
his mind, and the contagious enthusiasm which he brought to bear on
whatever he touched, he was a great power in promoting the study of
primitive man not in this country only, but wherever the English
language is spoken, and that he won for himself a permanent place in the
history of the science to which he devoted so much of his remarkable
gifts and abilities. As he spent a part of every winter in St. Andrews,
I had thought that in the course on which I enter to-day I might perhaps
be honoured by his presence at some of my lectures. But it was not to
be. Yet a fancy strikes me to which I will venture to give utterance.
You may condemn, but I am sure you will not smile at it. It has been
said of Macaulay that if his spirit ever revisited the earth, it might
be expected to haunt the flagged walk beside the chapel in the great
court of Trinity College, Cambridge, the walk which in his lifetime he
loved to pace book in hand. And if Andrew Lang's spirit could be seen
flitting pensively anywhere, would it not be just here, in "the college
of the scarlet gown," in the "little city worn and grey," looking out on
the cold North Sea, the city which he knew and loved so well? Be that as
it may, his memory will always be associated with St. Andrews; and if
the students who shall in future go forth from this ancient university
to carry St. Andrew's Cross, if I may say so, on their banner in the
eternal warfare with falsehood and error,--if they cannot imitate Andrew
Lang in the versatility of his genius, in the variety of his
accomplishments, in the manifold graces of his literary art, it is to be
hoped that they will strive to imitate him in qualities which are more
within the reach of us all, in his passionate devotion to knowledge, in
his ardent and unflagging pursuit of truth.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: Review of preceding lectures.]

In my last course of lectures I explained that I proposed to treat of
the belief in immortality from a purely historical point of view. My
intention is not to discuss the truth of the belief or to criticise the
grounds on which it has been maintained. To do so would be to trench on
the province of the theologian and the philosopher. I limit myself to
the far humbler task of describing, first, the belief as it has been
held by some savage races, and, second, some of the practical
consequences which these primitive peoples have deduced from it for the
conduct of life, whether these consequences take the shape of religious
rites or moral precepts. Now in such a survey of savage creed and
practice it is convenient to begin with the lowest races of men about
whom we have accurate information and to pass from them gradually to
higher and higher races, because we thus start with the simplest forms
of religion and advance by regular gradations to more complex forms, and
we may hope in this way to render the course of religious evolution more
intelligible than if we were to start from the most highly developed
religions and to work our way down from them to the most embryonic. In
pursuance of this plan I commenced my survey with the aborigines of
Australia, because among the races of man about whom we are well
informed these savages are commonly and, I believe, justly supposed to
stand at the foot of the human scale. Having given you some account of
their beliefs and practices concerning the dead I attempted to do the
same for the islanders of Torres Straits and next for the natives of
British New Guinea. There I broke off, and to-day I shall resume the
thread of my discourse at the broken end by describing the beliefs and
practices concerning the dead, as these beliefs are entertained and
these practices observed by the natives of German New Guinea.

[Sidenote: German New Guinea.]

As you are aware, the German territory of New Guinea skirts the British
territory on the north throughout its entire length and comprises
roughly a quarter of the whole island, the British and German
possessions making up together the eastern half of New Guinea, while the
western half belongs to Holland.

[Sidenote: Information as to the natives of German New Guinea.]

Our information as to the natives of German New Guinea is very
fragmentary, and is confined almost entirely to the tribes of the coast.
As to the inhabitants of the interior we know as yet very little.
However, German missionaries and others have described more or less
fully the customs and beliefs of the natives at various points of this
long coast, and I shall extract from their descriptions some notices of
that particular aspect of the native religion with which in these
lectures we are specially concerned. The points on the coast as to which
a certain amount of ethnographical information is forthcoming are, to
take them in the order from west to east, Berlin Harbour, Potsdam
Harbour, Astrolabe Bay, the Maclay Coast, Cape King William, Finsch
Harbour, and the Tami Islands in Huon Gulf. I propose to say something
as to the natives at each of these points, beginning with Berlin
Harbour, the most westerly of them.

[Sidenote: The island of Tumleo.]

Berlin Harbour is formed by a group of four small islands, which here
lie off the coast. One of the islands bears the name of Tumleo or
Tamara, and we possess an excellent account of the natives of this
island from the pen of a Catholic missionary, Father Mathias Josef
Erdweg,[358] which I shall draw upon in what follows. We have also a
paper by a German ethnologist, the late Mr. R. Parkinson, on the same
subject,[359] but his information is in part derived from Father Erdweg
and he appears to have erred by applying too generally the statements
which Father Erdweg strictly limited to the inhabitants of Tumleo.[360]

[Sidenote: The natives of Tumleo, their material and artistic culture.]

The island of Tumleo lies in 142 deg. 25" of East Longitude and 3 deg. 15" of
South Latitude, and is distant about sixty sea-miles from the
westernmost point of German New Guinea. It is a coral island, surrounded
by a barrier reef and rising for the most part only a few feet above the
sea.[361] In stature the natives fall below the average European height;
but they are well fed and strongly built. Their colour varies from black
to light brown. Their hair is very frizzly. Women and children wear it
cut short; men wear it done up into wigs. They number less than three
hundred, divided into four villages. The population seems to have
declined through wars, disease, and infanticide.[362] Like the Papuans
generally, they live in settled villages and engage in fishing,
agriculture, and commerce. The houses are solidly built of wood and are
raised above the ground upon piles, which consist of a hard and durable
timber, sometimes iron-wood.[363] The staple food of the people is sago,
which they obtain from the sago-palm. These stately palms, with their
fan-like foliage, are rare on the coral island of Tumleo, but grow
abundantly in the swampy lowlands of the neighbouring mainland.
Accordingly in the months of May and June, when the sea is calm, the
natives cross over to the mainland in their canoes and obtain a supply
of sago in exchange for the products of their island. The sago is eaten
in the form both of porridge and of bread.[364] Other vegetable foods
are furnished by sweet potatoes, taro, yams, bananas, sugar-cane, and
coco-nuts, all of which the natives cultivate.[365] Fishing is a
principal industry of the people; it is plied by both sexes and by old
and young, with nets, spears, and bows and arrows.[366] Pottery is
another flourishing industry. As among many other savages, it is
practised only by women, but the men take the pots to market; for these
islanders do a good business in pots with the neighbouring tribes.[367]
They build large outrigger canoes, which sail well before the wind, but
can hardly beat up against it, being heavy to row. In these canoes the
natives of Tumleo make long voyages along the coast; but as the craft
are not very seaworthy they never stand out to sea, if they can help it,
but hug the shore in order to run for safety to the beach in stormy
weather.[368] In regard to art the natives display some taste and skill
in wood-carving. For example, the projecting house-beams are sometimes
carved in the shape of crocodiles, birds, and grotesque human figures;
and their canoes, paddles, head-rests, drums, drum-sticks, and vessels
are also decorated with carving. Birds, fish, crocodiles, foliage, and
scroll-work are the usual patterns.[369]

[Sidenote: The temples (_paraks_) of Tumleo.]

A remarkable feature in the villages of Tumleo and the neighbouring
islands and mainland consists of the _paraks_ or temples, the high
gables of which may be seen rising above the bushes in all the villages
of this part of the coast. No such buildings exist elsewhere in this
region. They are set apart for the worship of certain guardian spirits,
and on them the native lavishes all the resources of his elementary arts
of sculpture and painting. They are built of wood in two storeys and
raised on piles besides. The approach to one of them is always by one or
two ladders provided on both sides with hand-rails or banisters. These
banisters are elaborately decorated with carving, which is always of the
same pattern. One banister is invariably carved in the shape of a
crocodile holding a grotesque human figure in its jaws, while on the
other hand the animal's tail is grasped by one or more human figures.
The other banister regularly exhibits a row of human or rather ape-like
effigies seated one behind the other, each of them resting his arms on
the shoulders of the figure in front. Often there are seven such figures
in a row. The natives are so shy in speaking of these temples that it is
difficult to ascertain the meaning of the curious carvings by which they
are adorned. Mr. Parkinson supposed that they represent spirits, not
apes. He tells us that there are no apes in New Guinea. The interior of
the temple (_parak_) is generally empty. The only things to be seen in
its two rooms, the upper and lower, are bamboo flutes and drums made out
of the hollow trunks of trees. On these instruments men concealed in the
temple discourse music in order to signify the presence of the
spirit.[370]

[Sidenote: The bachelors' houses (_alols_) of Tumleo.]

Different from these _paraks_ or temples are the _alols_, which are
bachelors' houses and council-houses in one. Like the temples, they are
raised above the ground and approached by a ladder, but unlike the
temples they have only one storey. In them the unmarried men live and
the married men meet to take counsel and to speak of things which may
not be mentioned before women. On a small stand or table in each of
these _alols_ or men's clubhouses are kept the skulls of dead men. And
as the temple (_parak_) is devoted to the worship of spirits, so the
men's clubhouse (_alol_) is the place where the dead ancestors are
worshipped. Women and children may not enter it, but it is not regarded
with such superstitious fear as the temple. The dead are buried in their
houses or beside them. Afterwards the bones are dug up and the skulls of
grown men are deposited, along with one of the leg bones, on the stand
or table in the men's clubhouse (_alol_). The skulls of youths, women,
and children are kept in the houses where they died. When the table in
the clubhouse is quite full of grinning trophies of mortality, the old
skulls are removed to make room for the new ones and are thrown away in
a sort of charnel-house, where the other bones are deposited after they
have been dug up from the graves. Such a charnel-house is called a
_tjoll paru_. There is one such place for the bones of grown men and
another for the bones of women and children. Some bones, however, are
kept and used as ornaments or as means to work magic with. For the dead
are often invoked, for example, to lay the wind or for other useful
purposes; and at such invocations the bones play a part.[371]

[Sidenote: Spirits of the dead thought to be the causes of sickness and
disease.]

But while the spirits of the dead are thus invited to help their living
relations and friends, they are also feared as the causes of sickness
and disease. Any serious ailment is usually attributed to magic or
witchcraft, and the treatment which is resorted to aims rather at
breaking the spell which has been cast on the sick man than at curing
his malady by the application of physical remedies. In short the remedy
is exorcism rather than physic. Now the enchantment under which the
patient is supposed to be labouring is often, though not always,
ascribed to the malignant arts of the spirits of the dead, or the _mos_,
as the natives of Tumleo call them. In such a case the ghosts are
thought to be clinging to the body of the sufferer, and the object of
the medical treatment is to detach them from him and send them far away.
With this kindly intention some men will go into the forest and collect
a number of herbs, including a kind of peppermint. These are tied into
one or more bundles according to the number of the patients and then
taken to the men's clubhouse (_alol_), where they are heated over a
fire. Then the patient is brought, and two men strike him lightly with
the packet of herbs on his body and legs, while they utter an
incantation, inviting the ancestral spirits who are plaguing him to
leave his body and go away, in order that he may be made whole. One such
incantation, freely translated, runs thus: "Spirit of the
great-grandfather, of the father, come out! We give thee coco-nuts,
sago-porridge, fish. Go away (from the sick man). Let him be well. Do no
harm here and there. Tell the people of Leming (O spirit) to give us
tobacco. When the waves are still, we push off from the land, sailing
northward (to Tumleo). It is the time of the north-west wind (when the
surf is heavy). May the billows calm down in the south, O in the south,
on the coast of Leming, that we may sail to the south, to Leming! Out
there may the sea be calm, that we may push off from the land for home!"
In this incantation a prayer to the spirit of the dead to relax his hold
on the sufferer appears to be curiously combined with a prayer or spell
to calm the sea when the people sail across to the coast of Leming to
fetch a cargo of tobacco. When the incantation has been recited and the
patient stroked with the bundle of herbs, one of his ears and both his
arm-pits are moistened with a blood-red spittle produced by the chewing
of betel-nut, pepper, and lime. Then they take hold of his fingers and
make each of them crack, one after the other, while they recite some of
the words of the preceding incantation. Next three men take each of them
a branch of the _volju_ tree, bend it into a bow, and stroke the sick
man from head to foot, while they recite another incantation, in which
they command the spirit to let the sick man alone and to go away into
the water or the mud. Often when a man is seriously ill he will remove
from his own house to the house of a relation or friend, hoping that the
spirit who has been tormenting him will not be able to discover him at
his new address.[372]

[Sidenote: Burial and mourning customs in Tumleo.]

If despite of all these precautions the patient should die, he or she is
placed in a wooden coffin and buried with little delay in a grave, which
is dug either in the house or close beside it. The body is smeared all
over with clay and decked with many rings or ornaments, most of which,
however, are removed in a spirit of economy before the lid of the coffin
is shut down. Sometimes arrows, sometimes a rudder, sometimes the bones
of dead relations are buried with the corpse in the grave. When the
grave is dug outside of the house, a small hut is erected over it, and a
fire is kept burning on it for a time. In the house of mourning the
wife, sister, or other female relative of the deceased must remain
strictly secluded for a period which varies from a few weeks to three
months. In token of mourning the widow's body is smeared with clay, and
from time to time she is heard to chant a dirge in a whining, melancholy
tone. This seclusion lasts so long as the ghost is supposed to be still
on his way to the other world. When he has reached his destination, the
fire is suffered to die down on the grave, and his widow or other female
relative is free to quit the house and resume her ordinary occupations.
Through her long seclusion in the shade her swarthy complexion assumes a
lighter tint, but it soon deepens again when she is exposed once more to
the strong tropical sunshine.[373]

[Sidenote: Beliefs of the Tumleo people as to the fate of the human soul
after death.]

The people of Tumleo firmly believe in the existence of the human soul
after death, though their notions of the disembodied soul or _mos_, as
they call it, are vague. They think that on its departure from the body
the soul goes to a place deep under ground, where there is a great
water. Over that water every soul must pass on a ladder to reach the
abode of bliss. The ladder is in the keeping of a spirit called _Su asin
tjakin_ or "the Great Evil," who takes toll of the ghosts before he lets
them use his ladder. Hence an ear-ring and a bracelet are deposited with
every corpse in the grave in order that the dead man may have
wherewithal to pay the toll to the spirit at the great water. When the
ghost arrives at the place of passage and begs for the use of the
ladder, the spirit asks him, "Shall I get my bracelet if I let you
pass?" If he receives it and happens to be in a good humour, he will let
the ghost scramble across the ladder to the further shore. But woe to
the stingy ghost, who should try to sneak across the ladder without
paying toll. The ghostly tollkeeper detects the fraud in an instant and
roars out, "So you would cheat me of my dues? You shall pay for that."
So saying he tips the ladder up, and down falls the ghost plump into the
deep water and is drowned. But the honest ghost, who has paid his way
like a man and arrived on the further shore, is met by two other ghosts
who ferry him in a canoe across to Sisano, which is a place on the
mainland a good many miles to the north of Tumleo. A great river flows
there and in the river are three cities of the dead, in one of which the
newly arrived ghost takes up his abode. Then it is that the fire on his
grave is allowed to go out and his widow may mingle with her fellows
again. However, the ghosts are not strictly confined to the spirit-land.
They can come back to earth and roam about working good or evil for the
living and especially for their friends and relations.[374]

[Sidenote: Monuments to the dead in Tumleo. Disinterment of the bones.]

It is perhaps this belief not only in the existence but in the return of
the spirits of the dead which induces the survivors to erect monuments
or memorials to them. In Tumleo these monuments consist for the most
part of young trees, which are cut down, stripped of their leaves, and
set up in the ground beside the house of the deceased. The branches of
such a memorial tree are hung with fruits, coco-nuts, loin-cloths, pots,
and personal ornaments, all of which we may suppose are intended for the
comfort and convenience of the ghost when he returns from deadland to
pay his friends a visit.[375] But the remains of the dead are not
allowed to rest quietly in the grave for ever. After two or three years
they are dug up with much ceremony at the point of noon, when the sun is
high overhead. The skull of the deceased, if he was a man, is then
deposited, as we saw, with one of the thigh bones in the men's
clubhouse, while of the remaining bones some are kept by the relations
and the others thrown away in a charnel-house. Among the relics which
the relations preserve are the lower arm bones, the shoulder-blades, the
ribs, and the vertebra. The vertebra is often fastened to a bracelet; a
couple of ribs are converted into a necklace; and the shoulder-blades
are used to decorate baskets. The lower arm bones are generally strung
on a cord, which is worn on solemn occasions round the neck so that the
bones hang down behind. They are especially worn thus in war, and they
are made use of also when their owner desires to obtain a favourable
wind for a voyage. No doubt, though this is not expressly affirmed, the
spirit of the departed is supposed to remain attached in some fashion to
his bones and so to help the possessor of these relics in time of need.
When the bones have been dug up and disposed of with all due ceremony,
several men who were friends or relations of the deceased must keep
watch and ward for some days in the men's clubhouse, where his grinning
skull now stands amid similar trophies of mortality on a table or shelf.
They may not quit the building except in case of necessity, and they
must always speak in a whisper for fear of disturbing the ghost, who is
very naturally lurking in the neighbourhood of his skull. However, in
spite of these restrictions the watchers enjoy themselves; for baskets
of sago and fish are provided abundantly for their consumption, and if
their tongues are idle their jaws are very busy.[376]

[Sidenote: Propitiation of the souls of the dead and other spirits.]

The people think that if they stand on a good footing with the souls of
the departed and with other spirits, these powerful beings will bring
them good luck in trade and on their voyages. Now the time when trade is
lively and the calm sea is dotted with canoes plying from island to
island or from island to mainland, is the season when the gentle
south-east monsoon is blowing. On the other hand, when the waves run
high under the blast of the strong north-west monsoon, the sea is almost
deserted and the people stay at home;[377] the season is to these
tropical islanders what winter is to the inhabitants of northern
latitudes. Accordingly it is when the wind is shifting round from the
stormy north-west to the balmy south-east that the natives set
themselves particularly to win the favour of ghosts and spirits, and
this they do by repairing the temples and clubhouses in which the
spirits and ghosts are believed to dwell, and by cleaning and tidying up
the open spaces around them. These repairs are the occasion of a
festival accompanied by dances and games. Early in the morning of the
festive day the shrill notes of the flutes and the hollow rub-a-dub of
the drums are heard to proceed from the interior of the temple,
proclaiming the arrival of the guardian spirit and his desire to partake
of fish and sago. So the men assemble and the feast is held in the
evening. Festivals are also held both in the temples and in the men's
clubhouses on the occasion of a successful hunt or fishing. Out of
gratitude for the help vouchsafed them by the ancestral spirits, the
hunters or fishers bring the larger game or fish to the temples or
clubhouses and eat them there; and then hang up some parts of the
animals or fish, such as the skeletons, the jawbones of pigs, or the
shells of turtles, in the clubhouses as a further mark of homage to the
spirits of the dead.[378]