“How have you been occupying yourself today?” he asked.
“I have been with Mrs. Albright, teaching sewing to some of the women, and of course we work in little Bible stories as we do it. And in exchange, look at this: they showed us how they make their material. They do not spin and weave; they pound it from the bark of the local mulberry trees. It is actually quite soft but not very flexible.”
Bliven stood but winced as he did so.
“Are you all right, dearest?”
“Just a bellyache. I met a whaling captain in town and I bought him a drink to visit with him. I got hold of some wine that was quite dreadful; that is likely what it is.”
“Perhaps, but from observing your meals, I might have another idea. You have cramps in your belly?”
“Yes.”
“And have you perhaps become worried, well, about your stool, in a way you have not spoken of?”
It was shocking to hear her address such a subject. “Well, I—”
“Black and greasy?”
“Yes, in fact.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. That, dearest, betokens too much pineapple. Avoid it from your diet for a couple of days, and then eat it only in moderation. You will be fine.”
“Well, thank you, Dr. Putnam.”
She stood and enjoyed letting him hold her. “Why don’t you leave your surgeon here and let me ship out with you?”
“No, I couldn’t. He needs the job. But, my love, it is time to tell you that we must leave soon. The bosun has finished the rerigging, we have taken on all the provisions we can here, so we will take on more at Lahaina, and then into the sunset.”
“Singapore?”
“Singapore, and its straits, and then to Canton, then back here.”
She buried her face in his shirt, motionless, until he said, “Are you regretting your decisions? Are you sorry you came so far away?”
Clarity pulled back and looked deep into his eyes. “No, not a bit, not for a moment. I will see you more often than I would had I stayed home, and I am having the adventure of a lifetime. I wish you could stay longer, but I am . . . if I said I was content, you would know I was lying, so I will say I am reconciled. You won’t sail tomorrow, surely.”
“No, no. Four days’ time, we think, that will be next Sunday. My aim heretofore has been to spare you mounting pain. Would you rather I tell you of such things further in advance?”
“No, I think not. You are right, it might bring a cloud over our remaining time together. Besides, there is some little degree to which I can sense it coming. If I should ever require to know more certainly, I shall ask. Of course, come Sunday you may not leave until you come to church and let them pray over you.”
Bliven considered this, and nodded. “Happily, the tide will not flow out until afternoon, so that will be well. I suppose I can stand that. May I bring Reverend Mutterbach? He is just a Deist, but he is very nice.”
He had been to one of their Sunday services before, held within the grass-walled church, with the chiefs seated in chairs, and the Louis XIV throne for the queen. It was still a shock to him, however, how large these people were, so that the chairs had to be spaced widely, as though this chiefly class were a separate, perhaps conquering race. He judged the sermon—delivered partly in English and partly in Hawaiian, expounding upon the verse that those who would be first in heaven must be the servants of all—well suited to its hearers. But he had never before stayed for the second service, conducted outside for the commoners, seated on tapa mats in a mixture of Western and native clothing. He did not know the subject because the sermon was preached entirely in Hawaiian, but the audience listened respectfully and seemed pleased with what they heard. He was surprised how many there were, filling an extended lawn before the church and causing Bingham to raise his voice beyond what seemed comfortable for him. What drew Bliven’s closest attention were the hymns that they sang, tunes that were familiar, but babble to him for being sung in the native tongue; what was more, the people sitting on the grass sang in full voice, without music, apparently having memorized the verses.
Bingham was quite hoarse by the time he greeted Bliven and Mutterbach afterward, and shook hands with them. “We are sorry to learn that you will be leaving us, Captain, Reverend. Will it be soon?”
“Presently, I fear,” said Bliven. “My wife has her brave face on as she walks us to the pier.”
“Godspeed to you, then. And we will miss Mr. Fleming as well. As you see, he has brought us along with our house, and even more usefully has shown us how to finish it ourselves.”
“He has been invaluable to me as well,” said Bliven. “In fact, when we left Boston, I sent my bosun to Roxbury to kidnap him if necessary. I could not do without him. But tell me, what on earth is going on over there?” He pointed perhaps fifty yards away, to an excavation of dimensions as large as any lecture hall in Boston.
“Oh, dearest,” said Clarity, “the grass church that you see is temporary. That is where the new church shall be, a great edifice of coral rock.”
“That is very well, but do you really need it to rival St. Paul’s?”
“I take your point, but for the permanent church to convey to the natives some impression of the glory and permanence of God will not be a bad thing.”
“I see.”
“The ground has been donated to us by a chiefess named Ha-o,” added Bingham, “who has come to be a believer. You see it has a spring of fresh water, which she very sensibly said can be used for baptisms. Our intention is to name the church The Waters of Ha-o, after her and the spring. Building it will be a labor of years, though, likely decades.”
“Perhaps when I bring Mr. Fleming back . . . ,” he said to general approbation.
Bingham gestured out to the harbor. “The natives dive down to the reef and cut free great blocks of coral, and haul them up here by hand.”
Bliven nodded. “Like the medieval guilds building the cathedrals in Europe.”
Bingham stared at him, astonished. “You know about that? Captain, you surprise me.”
“Architecture has long been an avocation of mine.
“Dearest, let us leave Ben with Mrs. Albright and save him the long walk. Ben, can you say good-bye to Papa?”
Bliven leaned down, kissed the top of his head, and said seriously, “Take good care of your mother,” to a ripple of laughter. “Ah, you good people think I am joking, but when he is older and I say that, his obedience will be second nature to him!”
Clarity hid her rising anguish as they walked to the waterfront, seeing Mutterbach and her husband to the captain’s gig, which was waiting for them. She had learned to take some pride in the New England stoicism of her farewells, and she gave away her emotion only in removing her bonnet and letting the wind lift her hair as she walked back up to the mission.
Muriel Albright hugged her as she handed over the baby. “Would you like for me to come back and stay with you, my dear?”
“Yes, I would, very much. But not today. Today I intend to indulge myself in being an emotional derelict, and I want no witnesses.”
“I will move back soon, then.”
When she came, in three days’ time, it was not as Clarity expected, for she was riding on a wagon, sitting beside the Spanish farmer and now a chief by marriage, Francisco de Paula Marín. He clambered down first, stiffly, for he was nearly fifty. He was strong and swarthy, as Clarity had imagined all Spaniards must be; the wagon had a step, but Marín placed a box underneath it that so that Muriel would not have to strain. After moving the pieces of a bed into the pili and setting it up, he joined Clarity for tea at the fire as Muriel unpacked. “Oh, did you not hear?” he said. “There was a big scene between Kahumanu and the chiefess Liliha. The queen pressed her hard to give some land she owns in the town to start a school. The chiefess refused at first, but the queen worke
d her over and got her way.”
“Liliha?” Clarity was amazed. “Everything about her, every move, every gesture, proclaims a strumpet.”
Marín shook his head sadly. “I understand your feeling, but perhaps you should not judge her. You do not know her story. I believe she is—how do you say?—more sinned against than sinning. Did you know, her name means ‘heartbroken.’”
“By all means, then, exculpate her. What is her story?”
Marín stretched his legs, and Clarity realized it was not a simple explanation. “She is very highborn, one of the few women in the kingdom high enough to defy Kahumanu, even though she’s only twenty. Her father’s father was one of the twins who founded the dynasty; her mother’s father was the king of Maui, who many people think was the father of the old King Ta-meha-meha.”
“What do you mean, ‘they think he was the father’?”
Marín held up a finger in explanation. “Ah! After he became king, Ta-meha-meha claimed a higher descent from somebody else, and made it punishable by death to say he was the son of the king of Maui.”
“Well, I have to admit, that’s power when you can create your own facts!”
“Yes. Well, Liliha was married very young to a nephew of the old king.”
“Wait! If she was the niece of the king, that would make her husband also her cousin, if I follow you.”
“Oh, Mrs. Putnam, that’s nothing. Among the nobility here, the most desirable circumstance is to marry one’s brother or sister.”
Clarity looked down into her tea. “Oh, my.”
“Yes, but they are raised by different families, so it does not seem immoral. It is complicated. Just look at the present king’s wife, Kamamalu. She is not just the king’s wife, she is also his half-sister, and his cousin, and his aunt, too, as I believe.”
“They sound like something out of ancient Egypt.”
“Similar customs, yes, like the pharaohs. Well, Liliha seems to have actually loved this husband. But then enter your friend Karaimoku, whom you missionaries look to as such a friend and benefactor.”
“Indeed? What has he to do with it?”
“Karaimoku was a great favorite and advisor to the old king. Another of his favorites stole Karaimoku’s favorite wife, which sent him into such a rage that he burnt down most of Honoruru looking for her. Failing to recover her, he stole a wife from his younger brother, the chief Boki.”
“The one that Karaimoku calls the black sheep of the family?”
“Well, yes, as the pot said to the kettle. That put Boki in such a rage that he stole Liliha from her husband, who was his nephew.”
“But wait—he was Ta-meha-meha’s nephew.”
“Yes, he was nephew to both of them.”
“Heavens, Mr. Marín, you are making my head hurt! I cannot begin to fathom such a prevalence of incest!”
“It is their custom. But to conclude: Liliha seems content to stay with Boki, because his lands are some of the richest on the island, and they are on the north shore, as far from Kahumanu as one can get, and separated from here by a high mountain range. Much of it is very thick jungle, with lots of sandalwood, which has made them very rich.”
“I see,” said Clarity. “Although I understand that sandalwood is becoming increasingly difficult to find.”
“That is true, but he still has it. This is not widely known, but he allows the practice of the old religion in his lands. The priests there have been known for many years to be fierce, and devout to the old gods. Boki has given them the land surrounding their temples, and laid a kapu against disturbing the forest. These priests are the ones who killed Captain Vancouver’s men many years ago. He landed a watering party, but to the kahunas it was a sacred stream, and the men were captured and sacrificed. Those forests have never been cut for sandalwood.”
“So he has established rather a bastion against the missionaries?”
“Quite so. I have heard it said that some of the priests who lost the war to preserve the old religion escaped the battle and sought refuge there.”
Clarity took a deep breath. “Dear me. That sounds like quite a forbidding place.”
“It is, but in fairness to Boki, he is not completely against Western ways, because he knows how much of his wealth comes from them. Perhaps you will think less of me when I tell you this, which as a gentleman I would regret but it is not a large matter because I do not think it is a vice: Boki buys the wine from my vineyard, as you would say, wholesale, even in the years when it is not a fine vintage.” Marín leaned forward to impart a confidence. “He says it is good enough for the likes of foreign sailors.”
“Ha! No doubt there is some element of truth in that.”
“Liliha is loyal to him politically, but she eases her loneliness by taking for lovers whomever she fancies.”
HONORURU, KINGDOM OF HAWAII
17TH OCTOBER, 1821
My dearest Harriet,
Well, I suppose that the Age of Miracles has not entirely ended, to discover that you received my letter of a year ago, and your reply is just now come to hand, courtesy the brig Randolph, Capt. Grubbs.
I regret extremely that Captain Putnam is not here to share your letter, having some months ago taken his ship to Malaya, and China, and to what adventures may God protect him. I did not know when I came here, that it is twice as far from these islands to China, as it is back to North America! The scholars tell us that the world is some twenty-five thousand miles around, but oh! nowhere could one gain more of a sense of what that means than in the isolation of this tiny country in the middle of the Pacific.
Your announcement that your papa has decided that a move to Ohio would be premature at this time is one that I welcome, and I think that the Reverend has exercised wise judgment. While I know you to be a young lady of courage and resourcefulness, Ohio as yet is a raw frontier, and labor there for the Lord’s cause must be thought of as more in the nature of missionary work than ministry to a civilized people. I sympathize with the disappointment that you express, and I acknowledge your adventurous spirit. Such is your spirit that I think that you would not shrink from the requirements of missionary labor among people only barely touched by civilization.
I recently received my neighbor Mr. Marín, who deposited my elderly friend Mrs. Albright to stay with me while the Captain is away, and she is very welcome both for her company and in looking after the baby, who is becoming a handful. Mr. Marín brought, in addition to some welcome fruits and vegetables from his farm, news of court intrigues that made me reflect anew upon what different people these are from ourselves.
Now, dear Harriet, I am going to write you a second letter anon, with news of the mission and its doings, and that letter you may share with your father. But herein, Harriet, I am going to write to you as a young adult and my equal, in your zeal to get out there and do some good in the world. You must know at once the kinds of things you may be up against. So, I am going to tell you some things, not to shock you, although they will, but to give you an idea of what awaits one at the pale of civilization.
The families here are mostly small, first I imagine because the diseases spread by visiting seamen have affected the ability of women to conceive, but secondly because the common people, the kanakas as they call them, have so little to live for. Most of what they harvest or catch or raise, they hand up to the chiefs, who do no work and yet live in comparative luxury. Infanticide is not rare among the commoners—such a shocking thing to say. Future generations will have difficulty believing that this could have ever been, just as you express the hope that the people yet to come will find the notion of slavery beyond their comprehension.
Families among the chiefly class are also small, but for a different reason: the chiefs, while they typically marry, as a custom prefer to lavish their attentions on young boys, whom they court with expensive gifts even to the humiliation of their
wives. In our own society, women often marry for money, without love, looking to their future security; even so, here such boys who are the objects of the chiefs’ affections accept this station as a means to advance into the chiefly class and own property, which the commoners, being mere serfs, may not do.
And these are just some of the moral considerations: the general health of the people is appalling. The population has begun to decline, from diseases unknown here before the discovery of the islands—smallpox, measles, etc.—and also from lung afflictions such as consumption. Skin diseases are everywhere; more people suffer from scabies than do not.
Now it would be helpful, while we seek to alleviate the sufferings of such people, to have some sympathy or cooperation from our government—by which of course I mean our American government, not the queen. Under our Constitution, it may not legally involve itself in religious causes, but from our standpoint we could easily believe that they work against us and seek instead to take advantage of this unfortunate population.
When the United States appointed a consular agent to the Kingdom, we might have expected a man of experience and good judgment. Instead, I believe that Mr. Jones arrived here principally as a debt collector for his father’s firm, and that his father used his influence to win him the post of consular agent so that their company would seem to have the force of government behind them. His chief skill seems to be putting the screws to their clients.
It is discouraging to think that in future, people will look upon the American presence in Hawaii as one of expropriation and cruelty, and we missionaries will be linked to them as by a chain, and no one will know how mortified we are by them.
I cannot bear to end on such a note of selfishness from one horizon to the other, so I will tell you one further truth—that the mission must be counted a success. Services are heavily attended, and conversions are many, evincing a deep spiritual strain among these people that, if anything, yearns to be reached and nourished.
The Devil in Paradise--Captain Putnam in Hawaii Page 28
