Hawaii's Story by Hawaii's Queen/Chapter 34
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE KING’S RETURN—MY ACCESSION
Thus again began my regency. With only twenty-five soldiers to guard the palace, a feeling of uncertainty in the mercantile world, and many signs of domestic unrest, my husband thought it best for me to return to Washington Place every night; but each morning at nine o’clock I went to my official duties, and part of these was always the examination of some alarm or rumor which had come to the palace doors. Now it was the report of a secret meeting at some house up the Nuuanu Valley to debate upon an overthrow of my government, again the account of an assembling out on the plains for conspiracy. Often, even after I returned to my home, would come a telephonic message announcing that the palace was to be attacked, and the military must be called out.
On tracing these rumors, whenever there was any basis of truth in them, it was found that the agitation was always the work of that same clique who were never satisfied, always conspiring, always determined that they would either rule or ruin. Such men, having no covenant with their own consciences, suspicious even of their own shadows, in power or out of power, are always a menace to the peace of the community.
Nothing worthy of record transpired during the closing days of 1890, and the opening weeks of 1891, until in the city it was reported that the ship Charleston was in sight with yards cock-billed, in token of mourning. My ministers were assembled in the Blue Room of the palace; and as I entered I could see on each countenance apprehension of the fate which we feared must have befallen the king, and to which we soon gave expression in words. On the arrival of the Charleston in port, we were officially notified. One of the cabinet went to the wharf to inquire what plans were made for the reception of the king’s remains.
He brought back word that at five o’clock of that afternoon the admiral himself would come to the palace at the head of the party which was to escort the body of the deceased sovereign. Not wishing to leave the palace, I immediately wrote to my husband, who was at home suffering from rheumatism, to inform him of all that had been brought to my knowledge. On learning of my brother’s death, in spite of his indisposition he came at once to the palace, so as to be near me at this critical moment. I was so overcome by the death of my dear brother, so dazed with the suddenness of the news which had come upon us in a moment, that I hardly realized what was going on about me, nor did I at all appreciate for the moment my situation. Before I had time to collect myself, before my brother’s remains were buried, a trap was sprung upon me by those who stood waiting as a wild beast watches for his prey.
The ministers, who were apparently of one mind with the justices of the supreme, court, called together the members of the council, and when all had taken their seats, sent for me. I turned to Governor Dominis before entering the chamber, and inquired of him, “ What is the object of this meeting?” He said that they had come together to witness my taking of the oath of office. I told him at once that I did not wish to take the oath just then, and asked why such proceedings could not be deferred until after my brother’s funeral. He said that others had decided that I must take my official oath then and there.
Few persons have ever been placed without a word of warning in such a trying situation, and I doubt if there was any other woman in the city who could have borne with passable equanimity what I had to endure that day. I will scarcely limit the comparison to my sex; I doubt if many men could have passed successfully through such an ordeal. Ere I realized what was involved, I was compelled to take the oath to the constitution, the adoption of which had led to my brother’s death.
After taking the oath of office administered to me by the chief justice, Albert Francis Judd, the meeting dissolved, and we adjourned to the Blue Room, where all the members of the privy council came to pay to me their mournful congratulations. Of these the chief justice was the first; and as he shook my hand he said to me, "Should any of the members of your cabinet propose anything to you, say yes;” and left me quite at a loss to know what his words might portend. But it soon became apparent. After the members of the privy council departed, the cabinet remained. Mr. Cum
Funeral procession of King Kalakaua
At five o’clock the afternoon of the 29th of January, 1891, the solemn procession began at the boat-landing, where the men from the Charleston had landed with the king’s remains, and from whence they took up the line of their mournful march to Iolani Palace. It was a gloomy, cloudy afternoon. As they moved slowly up to the gates of the palace, there was a moment’s pause; and just then a triple rainbow was seen to span with its arch the entire structure, stretching from one end to the other, and, as it were, embracing the palace. Crowds of people thronged in, respectfully following the king’s remains, with hearts too full of grief to speak of the deceased sovereign even to each other. When the cortége arrived at the palace steps, the casket was placed on the shoulders of the stoutest and best-picked men of the ship, and borne to a bier in the centre of the Red Chamber, which had always been the royal reception room, where it was to lie in state.
The kind-hearted and ever-friendly officer who commanded the Charleston, Admiral George Brown, paid his respects to the widowed queen, and then, in company with his officers, returned to his ship. He had taken my brother as a guest of honor to San Francisco; he had shown to him the greatest courtesy and the most unaffected kindness during the passage; then, after the final scene, to him had belonged the sad office of conveying the remains of his late companion back over the same route, a silent passenger going to his final resting place. The Hawaiian people are always grateful for tokens of respect shown to their chiefs, so on the proposed departure of the Charleston there was a general wish for a day to be given to the contributions of tokens of friendship to the admiral. On the day set apart for this grand expression of gratitude, men, women, and children crowded on board, each bearing some memento of Aloha to the gallant sailor. These consisted of curiosities of all kinds,—old-fashioned spears, calabashes, shells, necklaces, and countless other articles of native use or manufacture, each telling its own little story of our people, recalling to whoever might see it in any part of the world some tender memory of Hawaii.